Change of Heart (A Faith-Based Gay Romance)

Chapter 1: "Coming Home"

I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.

Pastor Dean Mitchell gripped the steering wheel and stared at the small church, sunlight gleaming off the stained-glass windows and brass handles of the double entrance doors. How many times in the five years that he had been youth pastor had he walked into God's house...and used His own word against a frightened and confused flock?

Dean closed his eyes. "Forgive me, Father." He'd lost count of how often he'd prayed those three simple words since his awakening. Perhaps he wouldn't feel his forgiveness until he righted the wrong he'd done to these people.

He was scared. He wasn't ashamed to admit that to himself or to God. The topic of his speech hadn't been discussed with Pastor Bryant. No one would suspect this of him, and that was what he was counting on. If he told them the truth of why he had come back, he wouldn't be allowed to speak. And he needed to speak. Needed them to hear.

Are you really here for them...or for yourself?

Dean opened his eyes. Tears were present and he blinked them back. The question frightened him. Coming home was meant to be an act of service to God, to the people he had hurt. Yet he feared the root of it was personal. He wanted to see...him. To find out what had become of him.

To convince him you were wrong and that he is perfect just the way he is.

Was it wrong to want that? He had been one of those whom Dean had damaged, he deserved the truth as well.

He sighed and continued to sit and stare at the church. Underneath it all, was he here for selfish purposes? In hopes of obtaining the very thing he had run away from two years ago? He trembled with the memory of that smile, those eyes...and what he had detected behind those eyes. What if he had stayed and not gone away? What would have happened?

Dean knew. He had known then, and that's why he had packed up and left town. If it had happened then, it would have been detrimental to them both because neither their hearts nor their spirits were ready for it. But now? It was different for Dean now, but that didn't mean it would be different for...

You have to do this. Get out of the car. Go inside. And tell them what you came here to say.

Releasing a slow, deep breath, Dean opened the door and climbed out. He stood for a moment in the warm sunshine, closed his eyes, and turned his face up to the sky. Lord, give me strength and courage. Guide my words.

"Pastor Mitchell?"

Dean flinched and for an instant thought he'd imagined that voice. He opened his eyes, blinked, and looked around, his gaze suddenly caught by those eyes. His heart immediately began to thump harder and faster. He swallowed, licked his lips, and smiled. "Nicholas." His voice rasped and he cleared his throat. "Nicholas Blake." His eyes darted to the pretty young woman at Nicholas' side and his heart plummeted into quiet despair before he could catch it.

"Wow," Nicholas' smile widened. "It's so good to see you again." He came forward as Dean stepped from behind the door and closed it. Suddenly, he was smothered in the young man's embrace and his heart went wild.

Dean hesitated then hugged him back—clung to him—then forced himself to let go when Nicholas withdrew a moment later. He couldn't help but stare at the young man; his light-brown hair teased by the warm breeze, his soft handsome features slightly matured since the last time he saw him, and those blue-green eyes...like cool waters he longed to dive into.

"Are you all right, Pastor Mitchell?" Nicholas was looking at him and smiling.

"Uh, yeah." Dean cleared his throat again and the three of them moved toward the concrete steps that led up to the church. "It's just...it's been a long time. You look...like you're doing well."