Page 119 of One Lucky Hero (Men in Uniform 1)

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CHANGE OF HEART

by T.J. Kline

MONTANA HEARTS: TRUE COUNTRY HERO

by Darlene Panzera

ONCE AND FOR ALL

AN AMERICAN VALOR NO

VEL

by Cheryl Etchison

An Excerpt from

CHANGE OF HEART

By T.J. Kline

Bad luck has plagued Leah McCarran most of her life, until the tide turns and she lands her new dream job as a therapist at Heart Fire Ranch. But when her car breaks down and she finds herself stranded, the playboy who shows up to her rescue makes Leah wonder if her luck just went from bad to worse.

Leah McCarran couldn’t believe her luck as she popped the hood of her classic GTO and glanced behind her, down the deserted stretch of highway in the Northern California foothills. Steam poured from her radiator, and there wasn’t a single car in sight.

She blew back a strand of her caramel-colored hair as the curl fell into her eye and caught on her mascaraed eyelashes. Even those felt like they were melting into solid clumps on her eyes. It was sweltering for mid-May, and, of course, her car decided to take a dump on the side of the highway today. She fanned herself with one hand as she looked down at the overheated engine. It probably wouldn’t have been nearly this big a deal if her cell phone hadn’t just taken a crap, too. To top off her miserable day, she’d spilled her iced coffee all over the damn thing getting out of the car and likely destroyed it once and for all.

This wasn’t the way she’d hoped to start her new job or her new life at Heart Fire Ranch.

Walking back to the driver’s side of the car, Leah had no clue what to do now. Luckily, her boss wasn’t expecting her until this evening, and she’d had the foresight, knowing her penchant for bad luck, to leave early. But until some Good Samaritan decided to drive by and stop for her, she was S.O.L. She kicked the tire as she walked by. As if trying to deny her even that small measure of satisfaction, the sole of her worn combat boot caught in the tread, nearly making her fall over.

“Son of a—”

Leah caught herself against the side of the car, willing the tears of frustration to subside, back into the vault where they belonged. That was one thing she’d learned as a child: tears meant weakness.

And showing weakness was asking for more pain.

She bent over into the car, looking for something to mop up the sticky mess the coffee was making on the restored leather interior of her car. She reached for the denim shirt she’d been wearing over her tank top before she’d left Chowchilla this morning, before the air had turned from chilled to hell-on-earth-hot.

“Shit,” she muttered. Trying to sop up coffee with denim was like trying to mop a floor with a broom: it did absolutely no good.

“Hot damn! That is the most incredible thing I’ve seen all day.”

The crunch of tires pulling off the asphalt of the highway was a welcome sound, but the awe she heard in the husky voice was enough to send a chill down her spine. Leah threw the shirt down onto the coffee-soaked floorboard. Standing up, she spun on the heel of her boot, her fists clenching at her sides as she tried to control the instinct to punch a man in the mouth.

“Excuse me? Do you really have so little class?”

“Oh, shit! No, that’s not . . .” She watched as the man unfolded himself from a late model Challenger and shut the door, jogging across the empty two-lane highway to her side. “I’m sorry, I meant the car.”

Leah crossed her arms under her breasts and arched a single, disbelieving brow. “Sure, you did.”

A blush flooded his dark caramel skin. “I swear I meant the car. Not that you’re not . . . I mean . . . crap.” He cursed again. “Let me try this again. Do you need some help?”

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