The Heart Remembers: a friends to lovers romance (Heart Collection) Read online

  www.lbdunbar.com

  Copyright © 2021 Laura Dunbar

  L.B. Dunbar Writes, Ltd.

  https://www.lbdunbar.com/

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owner.

  Cover Design: Shannon Passmore/Shanoff Designs

  Editor: Melissa Shank

  Editor: Jenny Sims/Editing4Indies

  Proofreading: Karen Fischer

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Other Books by L.B. Dunbar

  Dedication

  Letter to Readers

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Epilogue

  More by L.B. Dunbar

  About the Author

  Connect with L.B. Dunbar

  Other Books by L.B. Dunbar

  Silver Fox Former Rock Stars

  After Care

  Midlife Crisis

  Restored Dreams

  Second Chance

  Wine&Dine

  The Silver Foxes of Blue Ridge

  Silver Brewer

  Silver Player

  Silver Mayor

  Silver Biker

  Collision novellas

  Collide

  Smartypants Romance (an imprint of Penny Reid)

  Love in Due Time

  Love in Deed

  Love in a Pickle (2021)

  The World of True North (an imprint of Sarina Bowen)

  Cowboy

  Studfinder

  Rom-com for the over 40

  The Sex Education of M.E.

  The Heart Collection

  Speak from the Heart

  Read with your Heart

  Look with your Heart

  Fight from the Heart

  View with your Heart

  A Heart Collection Spin-off

  The Heart Remembers

  THE EARLY YEARS

  The Legendary Rock Star Series

  The Legend of Arturo King

  The Story of Lansing Lotte

  The Quest of Perkins Vale

  The Truth of Tristan Lyons

  The Trials of Guinevere DeGrance

  Paradise Stories

  Abel

  Cain

  The Island Duet

  Redemption Island

  Return to the Island

  Modern Descendants – writing as elda lore

  Hades

  Solis

  Heph

  Dedication

  For Mariela, for planting this seed in 2015,

  And every other reading who has been on this journey with me.

  Thank you for making my dream come true.

  And to military personnel everywhere. Come home safely.

  Additional dedication in 2020.

  To the new front line workers – doctors, nurses, first responders,

  And all essential workers.

  God bless what you’ve done for us.

  Join Love Notes to keep up to date on all things L.B. Dunbar.

  LETTER TO READERS

  As 2020 began, I set out with the daunting task of rewriting and republishing my first series, written in 2014. The Sensations Collection took on new covers, new blurbs, improved storylines, even a new reading order, resulting in THE HEART COLLECTION.

  While I knew it would be an ‘involved’ project, no one could have anticipated the COVID19 World Pandemic that began in March in the United States. My project became a passion and a commitment. I was determined to complete it.

  But one book I had not counted on rewriting was The History in Us, the original title for the story of Katie Carter and Levi Walker, written and published in 2017. However, after updates in storyline to Jess Carter, Katie’s father in SPEAK FROM THE HEART, and a completely new retelling of Tricia Carter’s story in READ WITH YOUR HEART, both Katie and Levi’s backstories shifted enough to warrant either pulling their original book or giving them a new story.

  I tried . . . I really tried to take the original tale and rework it, but it never felt genuine to who Katie and Levi would have grown up to be from the newer backstories given to them. Even in 2016 and 2017 when I struggled to write The History in Us at the request of readers (well, one really), I never loved their story. I liked it. Don’t get me wrong, I liked them, but their story never felt right to me.

  Remember passion and commitment for this series? In August 2020, I scraped the entire project which was already fifty-percent rewritten and I started over with a blank page.

  Their new story consumed me. The rewrite rough draft took only six days to complete it. I loved Katie and Levi in a fresh, improved way. Now, it’s right. Now, it’s perfect. Now, it’s everything I’d expect Katie and Levi to experience from the love of the Carter and the Scott families.

  No matter how many families have come after these original families, there will also be a special place for them in my heart, because THE HEART REMEMBERS your first.

  Enjoy!

  L.B. Dunbar

  1

  [Katie]

  “What the . . .?”

  As I step out of the bathroom, I bump into the hard wall of someone’s chest.

  “I’m so . . .” My apology is cut short when I look up. Rich, dark, deep brown eyes arrest the words within me. A slow grin curls supple lips, exposing dimples difficult to see in the thick scruff on his jaw unless you are up close. Definitely discernable up close. So discernable. So close. Charm exudes from his expression as those eyes spark, and his mouth curls into a lopsided smile.

  “Levi,” I whisper, finally finding my voice, noting the warmth of two thick hands on my upper arms, holding me only slightly back from his firm body. His eyes drop to my mouth, and I swallow.

  Levi Walker is my aunt’s ex-husband’s little brother, and that’s a mouthful to explain. He’s also my childhood crush and no longer a swoon-worthy teenager but all man at thirtysomething.

  I blink up at him, my face instantly heating as I recall a situation similar to this exact moment. Different house but same scenario ten years ago. I was exiting a bathroom, and he caught me in the hallway. Words were exchanged about him being a hero as he’d gone off to the Marines and was home on leave. Then he kissed me. My first kiss at seventeen. He was twenty-four.

  My lids lower, taking in the smiling red lips facing me now.

  The kiss then was sweet, wet, and powerful, at least to me. It seared my teenage heart with a memory and a longing. I wanted to be kissed again like he’d kissed me then.

  At the time, some friend of a friend caught us in the hallway, wh
ere he accused me of being a child. I was seventeen, but the other guy said I was ten, and Levi freaked out, stepping away from me as though I’d given him the clap. My heart, which soared one minute, crashed to my feet as he trampled over it with his military-issued boots.

  I ran from him, telling him he was no hero. Only heroes were worthy of kisses like that.

  I was so naïve.

  “Katie?” Levi’s toughened voice pulls me from the haunting memory.

  Hopefully, he’s forgotten that moment from ten years ago. Please let him have forgotten it. However, I quickly recall it isn’t my only embarrassing moment with him.

  “Katie girl, how are you?” His question reminds me that Levi thought of me as a child. Despite my twenty-seven years, he’ll always remember me as a little girl with blond braids running through sprinklers, making rain, or blowing bubbles in backyards during family functions. Levi is like an adopted member of the Carter clan, but it’s not some nefarious romantic trope like my best friend’s older stepbrother. He’s a family friend who has a long-standing connection with my aunt, making him off-limits to my desires even though he sometimes still floods my fantasies.

  “Hey, Levi. I didn’t know you’d be here.”

  This weeklong celebration is for Uncle Tom. As the eldest of the Carter siblings, he’s turning sixty years old and wants a rip-roaring party, thus bringing everyone together. While he and his wife, Karyn, live on Elk Lake, he’s rented a house on the big lake—Lake Michigan—although we’re still within the city limits of my hometown, Elk Lake City. Tom wanted everyone under one roof, and since his house could not accommodate all of us, here we are. It’s a ten-bedroom house with three floors, and a beautiful view of the larger lake. The attendees include the four core siblings, plus spouses, and their nearly grown children, totaling roughly fifteen extra people. It’s a tight fit, but we’re here.

  As one of the several single women in the under thirty collection of cousins, I’m on the top floor, like the forgotten servant’s quarters in a gothic mansion, although not quite as mysterious or dark. It’s bright and sunny with skylights and a central bathroom for four bedrooms. Apparently, Levi has a guest room up here as well.

  “Tricia invited me.” Tricia Ramirez is my aunt, my father’s youngest sister, and someone I adore. She’s fun, spirited, and loves my uncle Leon something fierce. From family lore, their love is well deserved.

  “I didn’t realize you were in the area.” We’re still standing in the bathroom doorway. His hands still hold my arms, and my palms lay flat on his chest. It’s such an awkward position for a casual conversation, especially as his T-shirt is thin, and I can feel his heart pattering under the worn material.

  Does his heart remember me?

  It’s a silly question to ask at my age and in my current relationship status, which I won’t be sharing with anyone this week. This celebration is about Tom.

  “I’m not. I’ve been . . . having a rough time . . . and Tricia thought I should come home, well, here, for some time off.”

  My brows pinch with concern. Levi’s military path was successful, and I’d kept up from afar, writing him love notes I never sent and dreaming of him fulfilling heroic deeds to win my heart. But the reality is, war is evil, and Levi lost a limb in his battles. I don’t recall the details, but I am aware that he’d been hurt and suffered, and then struggled with his recovery once Stateside.

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” I imply of his struggles. Tricia worries he drinks too much, as his father did, and he has a temper, as his brother once had, but the man before me appears calm and tender, and not drunk like he was when we shared that first kiss.

  Levi shrugs, rubbing his hands up and down my upper arms before realizing what he’s doing. Then his palms go flat, and his fingers pull back. Slowly, he lifts his hands up and away. He looks from one arm to the other like I’ve singed him where he touched me. Either that, or he’s surrendering as he had on that night.

  Jesus, fuck, I’m sorry, Katie girl. The words whisper through my head. A memory dusted off. They were harsh words after asking me if I wanted to kiss him, telling me I was looking at him like I wanted his mouth.

  Kiss me, sweet girl.

  Gah, men are just . . .

  “So, you’re staying the week, and your room is up here.” It’s not really a question, just a clarification.

  “Yeah.” Levi sheepishly glances down at his feet, forcing me to look as well. The platinum steel leg is on display at the end of his shorts. He slips his hands into his pockets and wiggles the toes of his one foot in a flipflop. “I’m up here with my son.”

  My head lifts. I don’t recall him having a child. Is he married? When did this happen? Why hadn’t anyone told me? My heart hammers in my chest while I have no reason to be upset. He was a crush when I was a kid. I’m an adult, and so is he. We both moved forward.

  Only, everyone is expecting me to get engaged soon, and it isn’t going to happen.

  The possibility of Levi being married hits hard for some reason. Not that he doesn’t deserve it. Despite the drunken kiss, he’s a nice guy who happens to be a great kisser. He’s still hot, with a solid chest and working heart, and just . . .

  “Wow. I didn’t know you were married.” Sounding offended, I clear my throat, attempting to soften it on the second try. “That’s amazing. Congratulations. And a kid, wow. Just wow, yeah.” I’m rambling because I do that. For someone who spent years holding in her words, I let them flow and too freely sometimes—like now—when I’m nervous and upset for no reason. Who cares if he’s married? We all deserve to be married, to find that partner in life who loves us unconditionally and gives us a family. The one who wants to build a family, with children, lots of children.

  I’m not jealous. I’m not.

  “Oh, I’m not married.” Levi lifts a hand and scratches under his chin, his fingertips forcing the scruff to sound like sandpaper on fresh wood, and I wonder what those coarse hairs would feel like against my jaw, along my neck, between my thighs.

  Wait? What?! I should not be thinking such things about my aunt’s ex-husband’s younger brother, who is still hot as hell even as he ages.

  “It’s a long story, but yes, I have a kid. A son. His name is AJ.” Pride fills his voice. “He’s six months old.”

  And another ball drops, shattering my heart. He wasn’t kidding when he said he had a baby. Six months is practically an infant. It’s a precious time. All that new growth and discovery, and new words, and first steps, and my heart aches again. A shaky hand comes to my forehead, fingers pressing across the tight skin, certain baby fever is evident over my brows.

  “I can’t wait to meet him,” I whisper. The words are rough, hardly hiding my heartbreak as they leak out. Not jealous. Levi’s forehead furrows as his eyes assess my face.

  “Tricia tells me you’re successful.” It’s an odd comment, one reminding me we are virtually strangers at this point in our lives, and I’m not good with small talk. I like to talk, now, a lot, but not with idle chitchat to fill the space.

  “I . . . were you needing in here?” I hitch a thumb over my shoulder, recalling our position. Me just inside the bathroom. Him just outside of it.

  “Oh, yeah. Thanks.” We do this awkward shuffle where he steps back but not far enough, and I step out, but we’re still too close. Then his hands catch me again, and I feel as if I’m tugged to him, which is a ridiculous thought. My palms flatten on his firm chest once more, squeezing this time to get an extra feel of his strength. Which proves equally embarrassing when his brows hitch, aware of my touch.

  Then he smiles. His red mouth curls. Those dimples beam. My mouth waters.

  Will he kiss me?

  What in the name of Hades? He isn’t going to kiss me.

  “It’s great to see you again, sweet girl,” he whispers, his gaze lowering to my mouth once more, and I’m very much in fear that Levi Walker does remember that kiss with a teenage girl.

  And it’s a memory he probably
wishes he could forget.

  2

  [Levi]

  Holy fucking shit.

  Katie Carter has turned into one seriously gorgeous woman. Her hair is more straw-blond than I remember, and a smattering of freckles still cover her nose and cheeks, but her eyes. They arrest me. The blue is like a sunny sky on a summer day. Plus, her body slamming into mine and my fingers on her arms tells me she’s tight, fit, like someone who works out and takes care of herself.

  And holy fucking shit, I should not be thinking of her body. She’s the daughter of Tricia’s brother and totally off-limits as a Carter. This family is special to me, and nothing short of my own family in a sense. They’re better than my own had been, and I’m grateful for Tricia and her husband, Leon Ramirez, for so many reasons. I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize our relationship, although I’ve come close. Once. Actually twice. This third time was another close call.

  Because holy fucking shit, I almost kissed her in the hallway. Again.

  We had this awkward interchange of questions like we’re trying to cram ten years between the doorjamb where we stood for what felt like an eternity yet not long enough.

  Katie Carter had been a child when I was a teen. Someone you didn’t give a second thought to when learning your way around girls, giving up your virginity to the wrong one, and then living the life of a horny bastard. I went into the Marines once I graduated high school because I couldn’t afford college. I didn’t have a college fund. Tricia and Leon couldn’t financially help me, and I never would have asked them. They’d already done so much for me. Instead, I’d decided school wasn’t for me despite my good grades and Tricia as a mother hen. She was also a high school teacher.

  However, when Katie was a bit older, we’d been in this similar position once before in her aunt’s house. I’d been home on leave and smacked into her as I tried to enter the restroom while she exited. I’d been drunk. Way too drunk. I’d had a run-in with my dad and was staying at Tricia’s instead of the house I called home, which was never a home. It was a bachelor pad for three miserable men most of my life, and I couldn’t wait to get out of there, which was another huge reason I selected the Marines.