Switched Resolution

By Diane Burton

Actions have consequences as Space Fleet Captain Marcus Viator and NASA reject Scott Cherella discover when they switched places. Does the reserved Marcus have what it takes to imitate his smart-aleck twin? Despite help from his love, Veronese, Scott’s already been outed by two of Marcus’ best friends.

When rebels steal the ship with part of the crew aboard, Scott has to rescue them and retrieve the Freedom. The stakes increase when he discovers the rebels are heading for Earth. They know he’s a fraud and they want Marcus. The safety of the Alliance of Planets depend on Scott and his allies—Veronese and Marcus’ friends.

SWITCHED RESOLUTION, which wraps up the Switched series, takes the reader from Earth—where Marcus adjusts to a pregnant Jessie—to the starship Freedom commandeered by rebels, to the chase ship with Scott and Veronese aboard.

• Language: English
• Publisher: D.M. Burton
• Release date: May 4, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301817030

Diane Burton

Diane Burton combines her love of mystery, adventure, science fiction and romance into writing romantic fiction. Besides writing science fiction romance, she writes romantic suspense, and cozy mysteries. Diane and her husband live in West Michigan. They have two children and five grandchildren.For more info and excerpts from her books, visit Diane’s website: http://www.dianeburton.com

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

I want to meet my mother, Marcus said. For too long, he had put off meeting the woman whose genetic makeup he shared.

Jessie looked up from the appliance she was repairing. Are you sure?

Marcus folded his arms and leaned against the garage's overhead door frame. Is one ever certain of such events?

Pretty momentous. She arched her eyebrow in what he imagined was an imitation of him. Do you think you're ready?

I very much doubt I will ever be ready. However, the longer I delay the more difficult it will be.

She acknowledged that with a nod. "She should be back from her trip. Frankly, I thought she would be over here by now. She's the Ms. Fix-it Shop's best customer. It's been a while since something broke. Notice, I did not say she broke anything. She gave him a droll look. Your mother has the worst luck with appliances. Lamps. Toasters. Blenders. I drew the line at clocks and watches, though. She actually wanted me to fix your great-grandfather's pocket watch. I said no way."

His ancestor's pocket watch? An object of sentimental value retained through three generations. Marcus had previously thought that Terrans—specifically those in the northern half of the Western Hemisphere—casually disposed of old items. Since encountering Jessie, he had learned differently. Her value of the old started with her grandparents' farmhouse where she lived and worked. To learn that his Terran mother held antiques in esteem was gratifying.

Why did you not want to repair the watch?

Leaning back on the stool, Jessie hung the screwdriver she had been using on the pegboard behind her. Too valuable. I was afraid I would damage it. I sent her to a man in Ann Arbor who specializes in repairing antique watches.

While she spoke, she plugged in the blender and turned it on. Apparently, the appliance now operated properly because she reattached its tag before setting it on a shelf with others that were finished and awaiting pickup by their owners.

She wiped off her work surface before retrieving another item. Her organizational skills in her workshop intrigued him. According to her, everything had its place or else she would never find anything. That did not hold true inside her house. She often became flustered when she couldn't find an item. Despite the clutter and frequently messy rooms, Jessie's home was the most comfortable place he had ever lived.

When she began to work on a lamp, her fingers caught his attention, as they usually did. Her long, tapered fingers as well as her hands bore evidence of her work. Scratches and scabs along with grease and graphite. Tonight after closing her shop, she would spend several minutes with a stiff-bristled brush removing the dirt from under her short-clipped nails until they became an angry but clean red. Later she would use those long fingers to bring him pleasure, as she had each night since he arrived three weeks ago. His body reacted in its usual manner when thinking about their mating. Lovemaking, he corrected. The Terran term was lovemaking.

Totally engrossed in her work, she opened the base of the lamp to repair its frayed cord, oblivious to his thoughts. She didn't even look up as she spoke. "Come to think of it, even before her trip your mother wasn't coming around as often. She's been acting a little strange with me ever since it was obvious that I'm pregnant. Scott said she talked to him about doing the right thing. By the way, that's Terran for marry the girl." She chuckled.

If I had not returned when I did, would you have committed to him?

Something in his tone must have alerted her because she looked up. Hey, are you still worried about that? Why didn't you say something? She hopped off her stool and came around the end of the workbench.

Marcus regretted expressing his uncertainty. Insecurity, a foreign concept to him, occurred only around her. As she approached, he straightened away from the doorframe. It is nothing.

"It is too something. Don't go all Serenian on me, buster. She looped her arms around his neck. I will tell you again what I've told you before. You, Marcus Viator, starship captain extraordinaire, you are my one and only love."

Marcus felt a surprising surge of relief. Despite her assurances, insecurity—an aberration in his logic—still plagued him after seeing her in his twin's arms. Jessie was completely open with her feelings. Although he strived to be the same, ridding himself of the constraints of Serenian culture proved more difficult than he expected.

Besides, it wouldn't have been fair to Scott to marry him while I'm in love with you.

Then she smiled. As always, her face lit up. Her smile touched his heart, his very soul. For that smile—no, for this woman—he would do anything, even give up his ship, his home world, his entire way of life.

She gave him a quick kiss and flashed a saucy grin before stepping away. I always knew you'd come back for me.

That isn't what I heard. He pulled her back into his arms. He hated that war had prevented him from returning for her. More, he hated that she feared he would never come back, despite her protests to the contrary.

Ugly rumors. She laughed.

He speared his fingers into her fiery tresses, dislodging the broad clip holding her long hair away from her face. As she tipped her head to meet his lips, her incredibly blue eyes dilated. Desire sparked between them, as it always did. Right from the beginning. Around her, he had no defenses. He intended his kiss to be gentle, teasing, like hers. It wasn't. Passion, always simmering between them, made him forget being gentle or teasing. She returned his hunger with that of her own. Until he was kicked low in the stomach.

Jessie broke away first. Junior Number One is not happy to be squished. She laughed and nipped his chin. No making out in broad daylight. Not when a customer could interrupt.

My sincerest apologies. I—

You're doing that Serenian thing again, going all stiff and formal. Chill. Relax. The kiddies will have to get used to us smooching.

Smooching? He had never heard that term before. Bending over, he picked up the fallen hair clip that resembled interlocking claws. "Ah, you mean kissing. Perhaps we could smooch again?" he asked, trying unsuccessfully not to appear too eager.

Later, honey. Much later. She anchored her hair out of the way. Now about your mother. Do you want me to go with you? We can make up some excuse, like wanting to hear about her trip. She thought for a moment. Are you going to tell her who you really are?

I do not know. Can we . . . what is your expression? Play it by ear?

She gave him that indulgent smile—the one she used when he tried to speak like a Terran. Ever since his decision to trade places with his twin and remain on Earth instead of returning to his starship, Jessie had been giving him what she called a crash course in Terran culture and colloquialisms. Even after three weeks, he wondered if he would ever catch on to all the nuances of speech.

Smooching. An unusual word. An action he liked very much.

A bright red convertible, its top down, turned off the dirt road into Jessie's drive. Her large black puppy of indeterminate heritage went into protect-his-territory mode. Max, who according to Jessie was a mixture of Labrador retriever and Irish Setter, began his usual frenzied barking, which alerted anyone within hearing range that an intruder was present.

Speaking of your mother . . . Jessie nodded to the approaching vehicle. She loves that car. Your sister hates it. She thinks your mom is losing it because she traded in your dad's Lexus for a Mustang. Okay, Marcus, this is your big test. Can you fool your mother into believing you're Scott?

I will have to, won't I? Until he decided to tell his mother the truth, he would have to deceive her into believing he was his twin. Just as Scott would have to deceive Marcus' crew.

As the car came to a stop, Jessie said softly, He always teases her about buying it so she can pick up guys. Drives your sister nuts. Oh, and he always kisses her on her right cheek and ask how's his favorite girl. And don't forget to speak with a drawl, like we practiced. When Scott was with NASA, he lived in Houston and sounds—

—like that actor Tommy Lee Jones whose movies we watch every night. Haven't you told me all this fifty million times? He grinned, pleased that he remembered a colloquialism she used often.

Total exaggeration, on both counts. We have more interesting things to do at night than watch movies. We have to make up for lost time.

Her knowing smile sent flares of sexual awareness shooting through him. Oh, yes, much more interesting things.

Six long months of lost time. Time while she despaired of him returning. Time they would never get back. Despite the fact that the breakout of war was not his fault, he could not control the guilt he felt over her anguish. If his superiors had had their way, she would still fear he would never return. If it wasn't for his twin . . .

As hard as he found it to assimilate himself into life on Earth, Marcus often wondered how his twin fared as captain of the Freedom. Each time Marcus thought of the enormity of what he had done, he worried about the ship, the crew. What if— Maybe he should have—

No. This was where he wanted to be. Here, on Earth, on a farm near Ann Arbor, Michigan. With Jessie and their unborn babies. It truly was. He had no regrets.

Max, Jessie yelled at the barking dog. Friend.

The animal dropped to his haunches, tail wagging, tongue lolling. There were times, not often, when the dog actually obeyed. After the woman got out of the car, she stooped and petted Max who sat obediently for three seconds before tearing off after a flock of birds. His big feet—which Jessie said he hadn't grown into yet—tangled, and he tripped. He rolled over, flipped back onto his feet, shook himself off and raced after the birds.

Laughing over the dog's antics, Gloria Cherella—the woman from whom Marcus had received half his genetic makeup—walked toward the workshop, her head high, spine straight, with a little bounce to her step. She wore a red and white checked blouse tucked into the waist of blue jean capris and white tennis shoes. Her golden brown hair, cut in a short bob, feathered her plump cheeks. Nicely rounded, with laugh lines around her eyes and upturned mouth, Gloria Cherella was a sharp contrast to his Serenian mother, with her worried eyes, pinched mouth and tightly-controlled manner. From Gloria's face, Marcus could see her open happiness.

Imitating his twin's loose-limbed stride, Marcus went to meet her. He kissed her on the correct cheek and said what his brother always did.

Giggling, she patted his cheek. I should hope not, Scottie dear. Jessie should be your favorite girl.

Doing his best to mimic Scott's drawl, Marcus said, Ah can have two fav'rits, can't Ah, dahlin'?

Then he smiled at Jessie, giving her a special look. She responded with a special look of her own, reminding him of their kiss and of what they would do that night instead of watching movies. By the stars, how he loved that woman.

His mother looked from one to the other before squeezing his arm. Go on with you.

How was your trip, Mrs. C.? Jessie had gone behind her workbench while Gloria approached.

He wondered if she had done so to give him time to greet . . . his mother. How odd that sounded.

I had a marvelous time. You absolutely must go on a cruise to Australia. Absolutely beautiful. Sydney! Melbourne! Cairns! Fabulous, absolutely fabulous! You know, it's Autumn there. The scenery. Oh my. I took an obscene number of pictures to bore you with. I love the digital camera you gave me, Scottie. No film to mess with. You know how your father insisted on taking all the pictures. He said cameras were too complicated for me. She gave Marcus a sly grin. I wish he could have seen me. It was so easy. Her expression changed. If he were here, we never would've gone on that tour. He didn't want to leave the U.S.

How odd to hear casual references to the man who had hated Marcus' very presence, who had heaped guilt on his mother, and demanded that she abandon the babe she had so desperately wanted. After a moment he realized he was thinking of his Serenian father while Gloria referred to her husband, Marcus' biological parent.

An uncomfortable silence ensued until she again glanced at Jessie then aimed a pointed look at him. I'm glad you finally came to your senses and decided to marry Jessie. I always knew you would do the right thing. Like your father, despite his faults, you are a good man. I wish he could've lived to see you settled down.

Grief passed across her eyes. Marcus had no idea what to do.

We really should have said something to your sister about letting us tell your mom our good news. Once again, Jessie saved him.

Gloria's momentary sadness disappeared and she laughed. Do you think that would have stopped her? I know my daughter. I love her dearly, but she never could keep a secret.

Ah'm sorry, M-Mom, he stumbled over the word. We shoulda told ya first.

She cocked her head at him then smiled. As long as you invite me to the wedding, I'm fine. Now, Jessie dear, I know your parents will want to take care of everything, but I would dearly love to help. I hope you will let me.

From his observations of Jessie's parents, Marcus rather doubted any assistance would come from that quarter.

Of course, Jessie said. I'd love your help.

I'm just so excited that my baby is finally getting married. To his surprise, she hugged him again.

As he was quickly discovering, Terrans often hugged. An unusual occurrence for him. He tried to relax and return the embrace of the woman who should have raised him. Max returned from bird chasing and began bumping Marcus' leg then Gloria's in a bid for attention. When they ignored him, the dog tried Jessie. She shooed him away.

Gloria held out her arms to Jessie who seemed to have no qualms about accepting a hug. Oh, I can't wait to see that grandbaby. May I?

She reached toward Jessie's protruding abdomen. Jessie took her hand and brought it to rest on top. Gloria's eyes widened, and she quickly removed her hand. It kicked. Oh, my goodness. She giggled and touched again. Active.

Oh, yes. Jessie laughed. Very active.

Do you know what it is yet?

I—We want to be surprised, Jessie said. We can tell you we're having twins.

Gloria jerked her hand away as if burned. Twins?

She actually stumbled back against Marcus. He put his arm around her to steady her and felt her tremble.

Are you okay, Mom? He was surprised how right it felt to call Gloria that.

Jessie ran back into the garage and brought out a canvas chair. As he eased his mother into it, Jessie asked, What happened?

Gloria touched her temple. I'm being silly. Pay me no mind.

Seriously, Mrs. C. Did Max trip you?

No, no. It's nothing.

Jessie went back into the garage and came out with a paper cup. Here's some water. Do you think the heat got to you? The late April day, which started out cool, had gotten progressively warmer.

No. Gloria took a sip of water. Hearing about twins always . . . affects me. I—I thought I was going to have twins. When I was pregnant with you, Scottie. She patted his hand.

Since he and his twin had switched places, Marcus often had to remind Jessie to call him Scott. More often than not, she called him an endearment, like honey. Hearing his own mother call him by another's name seemed . . . wrong.

Gloria cleared her throat. "One day, I felt— I can't explain it. I felt different. The doctor said he must have been mistaken about twins. When you were born, I was so sure there would be another baby. She pulled a tissue out of her pocket and dabbed at her eyes. Don't listen to me, Jessie dear. Nothing will happen to your babies."

Marcus knelt beside her and held her hand. It seemed like the right thing to do. He knew exactly what had happened all those years ago, and anger surged through him as her words reminded him of the Gemini Experiment. Only a lifetime of controlling his emotions enabled him to conceal visible evidence of hatred for the one who had stolen his mother's baby. Her other baby. Him.

Don't mind me. Whenever I hear about twins, I always get a little emotional. Now, young man, I assume you're living here now.

While he was trying to think of how to answer, she fluttered her hand. I know, I know. You're a big boy. Good heavens, I'm acting like you're still a teenager. It's just a mother worries about her child even if he is thirty-four years old. She blinked several times. I don't care if you sleep in my guest room or here at Jessie's. I'm just so happy you're close by and not in Houston or the Middle East or—God forbid—space. I've missed you so much.

Her eyes got suspiciously bright again and, again, she used the now-crumpled tissue to dab at them and her nose before shoving it into her pocket. I know you wanted to be on a Shuttle mission, but I'm so glad they halted that program. I can't tell you how relieved I am that you're here where it's safe.

He patted her hand, unsure of what to say.

While silence stretched between them, Jessie knew she had to diffuse this emotional situation. So is this a social visit or do you have something for me to repair?

She hoped that was the distraction Mrs. C. needed. And Marcus, too. He seemed as flummoxed by his mother's revelations as he had been by Jessie when she arrived on his starship seven months before.

The toaster. I left it on the front seat. Scottie, be a dear and get it for me. As Marcus walked to the car, Mrs. C. beckoned Jessie close. With narrowed eyes and a determination Jessie had never seen before, Gloria said, Do you love my son?

Jessie smiled broadly. Very much.

With an even more determined expression, she said, Are the babies his?

At first stunned by the question, it didn't take long for understanding to hit her. Gloria thought Jessie and Scott hadn't married because she'd gotten pregnant by another man. Well, she had. Gloria deserved an answer, yet Jessie hated to lie to this charming woman. A woman Jessie thought of as more than a customer. A friend.

She stooped in front of Marcus' mother and clasped her hands. Yes. They are your son's babies.

Gloria peered into her eyes as if searching for the truth. Jessie did not waver. Her babies were Gloria's son's—just not the son she thought.

I won't ask why you two haven't married or even talked about marriage until now. I always promised myself I wouldn't be a busybody mother-in-law. Her mouth curved. I never thought I'd be a mother-in-law let alone a grandmother. When Scott and Irene got into their thirties and showed no sign of settling down, I resigned myself to their single status. But now . . . She squeezed Jessie's fingers then looked past her. Marcus had returned.

Jessie gratefully accepted his help standing. The pregnancy made her awkward and he was often overly protective. Dear, sweet man. Not that Scott hadn't been helpful. She didn't know how she would have gotten through those difficult days without his help. He was a good man, as his mother said. Just not the man Jessie loved. Marcus, only Marcus, made her warm and tingly in all the right places. Only Marcus filled her heart. With a quick gesture, she caressed his face and smiled up into his incredibly green eyes. Eyes identical to Gloria's, identical to Scott's.

Scott. How was he coping as a starship commander? As Marcus had to learn how to loosen up and speak like Scott, his twin would have to change his easy-going manner and act like an up-tight Serenian. Identical looks—six foot one, lean and fit, near-black hair—were not enough. Scott would have to draw on his years in the military to get the officers and crew to accept him as Marcus. Not that they would have any reason to doubt. Like his mother, they would see what they expected.

She was surprised by how well Marcus handled his mother. When he teased her about the car again, something the real Scott did often, she giggled like a schoolgirl. Marcus was trying. Overcoming a lifetime of rigid control had to be difficult. He made it through his first real hurdle when his sister showed up last week—a visit Jessie could have done without. Now here he was with his mother and doing amazingly well.

Jessie looked at the appliance he held out. Tell me that's not the toaster I fixed before.

Now, now, dear. I do everything you told me last time. I empty out the crumbs once a week. The problem is, the toast burns.

Come into my parlor. Jessie took the toaster into her workshop.

As Gloria followed, she pointed to the tractor on the far side of the garage. Is that an old Massey Ferguson? My father had one like that on our farm.

Jessie looked at Marcus. She didn't know his grandfather had been a farmer or that Gloria had grown up on a farm. Where Marcus always wanted to be. Instead, he'd followed the dictates of the Serenian Elders and commanded a starship—until three weeks ago when he chose her over his ship, his crew and the life he'd always known. Even though she wanted it, she was humbled by his choice. And worried that he would have regrets. That he would resent her because of it.

As Jessie examined the toaster, Marcus asked Gloria how the car was running. Picked up any smokin' hot studs lately?

Jessie wasn't the only one to sputter. Where did he come up with that expression? She hadn't taught him.

Oh, you. Gloria giggled. I'm too old for that.

You aren't old, Mrs. C., Jessie said.

If you're marrying my son, you can stop calling me Mrs. C. I'd be honored if you called me Mom or Momma like this young man does. She glanced up at Marcus. Or call me Gloria. I would never try to take your own mother's place.

Oh, yeah, right. Like that would ever happen. Jessie's mother didn't exactly have a place in her life. Or Jessie in hers. The very proper Professor Denise Wyndom washed her hands of Jessie long ago when she hadn't conform to the academic plans her parents mapped out for her. Her mother didn't exactly jump for joy over Jessie's pregnancy, either. Gloria and Denise were as different as oil and battery acid.

Thanks, Jessie said, too flustered by the offer from this generous woman to call her anything. I found the problem with the toaster. See this dial? It's turned up way too high. You can adjust it. See. She demonstrated.

Gloria fluttered her hand. Silly me. I should have checked that first.

Something in the way she spoke made Jessie think differently. Gloria wasn't that silly, or ignorant. She must have used the excuse to check out the situation between the repairperson and her son. Interesting. Jessie often thought some of Gloria's behavior was for show. From hints she dropped over the months she'd been coming to the shop, Gloria had played the role of ditz for a long time, a role her husband had expected her to play. How sad she had never been able to be herself when he was alive.

She seemed to be trying to break out of that mold. First the new red car then her clothes, which made her look younger. From her graying hair and the matronly attire she had worn, Jessie originally thought Gloria to be in her late sixties. The new salon cut and coloring as well as more youthful clothes made her look at least ten years younger. Going on a trip by herself—albeit with a tour group—was another sign of her independence. Pleased to watch the transformation, Jessie thought good for her.

Gloria opened her purse. How much do I owe you?

Closing her hand over Gloria's, she said, Nothing.

I've told you before you can't grow your business if you give away your services.

I don't charge family. Jessie wiped down the toaster. Are you feeling all right now?

I-I'm not sure. She leaned against the workbench and placed the back of her hand on her forehead. Scottie, maybe you could drive me home.

Jessie looked at Marcus whose expression didn't falter. Sure thing, Momma. Be glad to.

Momma. Holy shit. Scott always called his mother Momma, but Marcus had called her Mom. One little slip. No, twice. Good thing he'd caught that comment Gloria tossed out earlier. Jessie had been so focused on what to call her she had missed it.

Oh, my God. She wants Marcus to drive her home. He didn't know how.

I can drive you, Mrs.—I mean, Gloria.

Now, dear, you can't close your business for that long.

Not long. You just live down the road. She waved to the east, giving Marcus a direction if he had to drive. They had only gone to Gloria's once, to pick up Scott's clothes. That had been three weeks ago and Jessie drove. Marcus would never be able to find the condo, especially through the maze in the complex where Gloria lived. Scott had lived there for nearly six months. Obviously, he would know the way.

Not a problem, he said. Toss me the keys, Momma.

Marcus caught the keys she threw to him. Remembering vids he'd seen of Terrans in action, he held the car door open for his mother. That was not very different from what Serenian males did for fems.

He settled into the flashy red sports car, the same color as the speeder he owned on Serenia. Maybe he and his mother were more alike than he realized. He'd driven two Terran vehicles, Scott's SUV and Jessie's ancient—according to her—truck. With the instrument panels of those vehicles different from the one before him, he held up the key fob and tried not to look too obvious about where to put it. When Jessie leaned on the open window of the passenger's side and engaged Gloria in conversation, he gave her a grateful look for distracting his mother then started the engine.

Do you want to come along? he asked an anxious-looking Jessie.

Gloria turned to him. She has to keep her shop open. You know that. Let's go. Then she exhaled such a weary sigh his concern for her increased. I am so very tired. I would like to go home and take a nap.

You could stay here, Jessie said. You could lie down on the—

No thank you, dear. I just want to go home. She spoke hesitantly, her voice breathy. Again, Marcus glanced over at her, but she continued to look out the side window.

When Jessie stepped away, he backed the car into the space made for vehicles to turn around. Since he and Scott switched places, Jessie had taken him on several trips. At first she'd done all the driving, then he began exploring on his own. Taking Gloria home should be a piece of pie. Or was it cake? Drakus, a member of his crew and an aficionado of Terran entertainment, never got that expression right. For a brief moment, he wondered how Drakus and the rest of the crew fared. As he did each time, he quelled his concern. The war had ended. The Freedom must be home already and the crew enjoying a well-deserved rest and relaxation.

So you had a good time on your trip, Momma? he asked casually. He had an excellent memory and was