Timeless

TIMELESS Copyright © 2022 by Devney Perry LLC All rights reserved. ISBN: 978-1-957376-16-5 No part of this book may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations in a book review. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is coincidental. Editing & Proofreading: Elizabeth Nover, Razor Sharp Editing Julie Deaton, Deaton Author Services Judy Zweifel, Judy’s Proofreading Cover: Sarah Hansen © Okay Creations OTHER TITLES Jamison Valley Series The Coppersmith Farmhouse The Clover Chapel The Lucky Heart The Outpost The Bitterroot Inn The Candle Palace Maysen Jar Series The Birthday List Letters to Molly Lark Cove Series Tattered Timid Tragic Tinsel Timeless Clifton Forge Series Steel King Riven Knight Stone Princess Noble Prince Fallen Jester Tin Queen Runaway Series Runaway Road Wild Highway Quarter Miles Forsaken Trail Dotted Lines The Edens Series Christmas in Quincy - Prequel Indigo Ridge Juniper Hill Garnet Flats Jasper Vale CONTENTS Prologue 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 Epilogue Acknowledgments About the Author Preview to Indigo Ridge PROLOGUE CHARLIE I looked like death. Red-rimmed, bloodshot eyes. Snotty nose. Splotchy cheeks. I had that weird saliva thing happening where I opened my mouth and a spit string stretched between my top and bottom lip. “Attractive, Charlotte.” A fresh wave of tears flooded until my gaze was so blurry that I couldn’t see my face in the bathroom mirror. No one called me Charlotte. Not since I was a little girl. Because—according to Mom—at the age of four, I’d declared I hated the name Charlotte. Hate was a bit extreme. I didn’t loathe my name. I just preferred Charlie. I had since the day a boy at the local camp in my hometown of Lark Cove, Montana, had called me Charlie. “What was his name?” I asked myself in the mirror. Roy? Ray? Maybe Mom remembered. It had been too long, and my mind wasn’t the sharpest today. Regardless of that boy’s name, no one in my life called me Charlotte. Except Dustin. He’d called me Charlotte from our first date to our last. Until the day he’d broken my heart. Even as he’d been frantically zipping up his jeans and begging for the chance to explain why his dick had been inside another woman, he’d called me Charlotte. Charlie fit me better than Charlotte. My nickname was as comfortable as the boyfriend jeans and vintage tee I’d pulled on this morning. I preferred tennis shoes to heels. Cold beer to fancy cocktails. My hair hadn’t been trimmed in months and my makeup routine took less than three minutes. At least when I cried, there wasn’t much to cry off besides the mascara that was now smudged beneath my eyelashes. “Bastard,” I muttered, wiping furiously to dry my face. “Ugh.” Dustin didn’t deserve my tears. That’s what Mom said. So why couldn’t I get them to stop? “Charlie.” Dad’s voice sounded from outside the bathroom door as his knuckles rapped on the wood. “We’re going out on the boat. Want to come?” “Go without me,” I called. “You sure?” “Yeah.” My voice cracked. “Okay.” He paused. “I love you, peanut.” “I love you too, Dad.” My chin quivered as he lingered in the hallway. Like a silent hug. Dad had been hovering close since the Dustin disaster. After a few long moments, his footsteps retreated, probably to round up Collin and Camila. Before I’d escaped to the bathroom for yet another cry fest, my younger brother and sister had been running around with my cousins in the yard. My aunt Aubrey and uncle Landon were visiting from New York with their two boys, Greyson and Bodie. Our whole extended family had congregated in Lark Cove for a week together. This was my first trip home in months. I should be laughing and happy, soaking up every minute with the people I loved most, not blubbering every hour, on the hour. “You suck, Dustin Lewis.” He was ruining my vacation. My plan was to spend the week in Lark Cove before heading back to Bozeman for a job interview. I’d just graduated from Montana State last month with my business marketing degree. My senior year I’d interned with a tech startup, and my supervisor was hoping I’d take a vacant business analyst position. The interview was for show—the job was mine if I wanted it. Did I want it? It certainly wasn’t my dream job, not that I had a dream job in mind. At this point, I simply wanted to be employed. And up until yesterday, I’d wanted to be employed in Bozeman. For Dustin. He’d graduated from MSU a year ago and had been working for his dad’s cabinet company. I’d designed my entire future around his because he had no plans for leaving Bozeman. What now? In less than twenty-four hours, I’d lost my boyfriend, my home and my cat. Why hadn’t I listened to my parents when they’d offered to buy me a house in Bozeman for college? I’d insisted on having a normal college experience. To forge my own path and earn my own money, like Mom had done when she’d been my age. My freshman year I’d lived in the dorms. My sophomore and junior years, home had been a cheap rental with two friends. Then this past year, Dustin had asked me to move in to his place. Two years together and it was over. Done. Destroyed. Dustin had been swamped at work lately, too busy to come to Lark Cove this week. Knowing I wouldn’t see him for a while,