Page 30 of Change of Heart

“Ha, thanks.”

“Look, Brody and I aren’t a secret, so you don’t have to keep it from her. We’re going to tell her whenever we can all be in the same place at the same time. We’ve barely had a chance to catch up since she’s been back.” She gestured behind herself toward the house. “Kids, work—you know how it is.”

“I get it. I doubt it will come up anyway. I’ll bring the shovel back on my way home.” It wouldn’t come up because I was going to do what Trevor said and wait a day or two, which was what I had intended anyway. I needed time to get my head straight so we could talk and not let past hurts get in the way of the future I hoped we could rebuild together. I really messed up with her last night when I saw Trent on the news.

“Later, man.” I waved at Brody as I headed to the side of the garage for the shovel then took off for Charlotte’s.

I pulled up in front of her townhouse. “Huh.” Her place was cleared of snow, the driveway, up the path, and including the porch steps. She must have sent old McMillon a text after all. Good for her. All she needed was for him to clear out the garage. Then she wouldn’t have to worry about slipping and sliding her way up to the front door.

I dropped the shovel back at Gwen’s and headed home with Charlotte on my mind.

My house was quiet, still, lonely. Precisely as I had left it last night.

Back when Charlotte lived here, I never knew what to expect when I got home. Would she be burning dinner in the kitchen? Waiting for me in the doorway, naked and ready to jump my bones? Or so deep into her writing she barely noticed when I arrived? It never bothered me when she was wrapped up in her stories. I found it inspiring. I loved taking care of her, and she always gave as good as she got.

Our marriage was short lived, but I was beginning to think it had been the best years of my life.

Fuck, I missed her.

Losing her had set me up for over a decade’s worth of heartbreak. Not only did I lose her, but I had also lost every possibility I would ever have to find love, because she was it for me.

Last night proved it.

For the first time in years, I felt alive again.

How had I failed to see I had been living in the dark all this time without her? I should have fought harder for her.

And how would I come to terms with the fact that the best years of my life were the exact same years she regretted?

Chapter12

Charlotte

Ishould be working, but instead I called Trent. It was three hours later in New York. Everybody I knew in Sweetbriar would be asleep. Well, except for Cade and I didn’t want to call him for obvious reasons. Plus, an update on the stalker situation beyond our daily text check in would be good. So far, he was working, strolling through all the New York tourist places, enjoying Big Mac lunches, and going straight home. Stalking me must have been his only hobby. He had been quiet since I left New York.

“Yeah, Trent. I’m fine. I’m not saying there aren’t any nut jobs in Sweetbriar, there’s plenty. It’s just that anyone local knows not to screw with me. My brothers will put the hurt on anyone who messes with me and I’m on a first name basis with almost all the cops in town. My ex-father-in-law is the police chief for goodness’ sake. And of course, you know all about Cade.”

Trent wanted to come to Sweetbriar. He was concerned that my asshole stalker would somehow give him the slip and get to me before he could send out a warning. It was silly, but I always tried to avoid saying or even thinking his actual name as if acknowledging it somehow gave him a power over me. He also wanted me to tell my family and the police here in Sweetbriar about him, but I refused. No way. I liked my freedom too much.

“Okay, then I’ll stay here in New York and keep following Creepy McStalkerpants around. I can’t believe I’m doing this. I’m not a professional and I’m stretched kind of thin since I’m still in play rehearsals. I don’t want to miss anything and put you at risk. At least let me hire a hit man or maybe a sexy private detective I can have a fling with—I have money now and I don’t mind. Or I could always just kick his ass myself.”

“Murder isn’t always the answer, Trent,” I teased. “But I guess I wouldn’t mind if you gave Weirdo VonStalkerton a beat down. Maybe it would scare him off for good.”

“Don’t make me laugh! Look at what you write! Murder, mayhem, and dead bodies piled up all over the pages. Uh-huh, sure. Violence is your bread and butter, Charli. And look, I’m just waiting for that motherfucker to step a toe out of line. I may joke around with you, but I take your safety seriously. You’re my best friend. I love you.”

“I love you too. I know you worry about me. And I appreciate it, Trent. You rock as an ex-husband.”

“And you’re the best ex-wife ever. The next person I marry will probably be pissed at the pre-nup they’ll have to sign now that I finally got the fifty mil. Stay safe. I’ll check in tomorrow. Bye Charli.”

“Bye.” I set the phone down.

I was showered, dressed, and caffeinated. My laptop was open, my manuscript ready and waiting. I should be writing but all I could think about was banging Cade on the stairs again. Or maybe banging him in my bed, or on this couch, or the floor. Damn, I wanted him, and I couldn’t find it in myself to care about anything else. My writing mojo was deader than the latest victim in my manuscript, who had just died of an overdose of rat poison disguised as a tragic woodchipper accident—obviously, I had some residual feelings of anger from last night to work through.

I flopped back against the cushions, throwing an arm over my forehead in the most dramatic fashion I could muster.

This sucked.

His curt note still stung a bit, but I managed to rationalize it away for the moment and not burst into tears because he had to be feeling just as weird as I was about our sexy staircase escapade last night.

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