Carly Phillips - Lucky Break

He was headed to the loft stairs so he could get a clean shirt when the doorbell rang. “Come on in,” he called, assuming his father or uncle had stopped by.

Lauren walked in instead.

“Hi.” She strode in with purpose, wearing those high black boots he’d noticed the first night they’d met, dark jeans and a black-and-white-striped shirt with some funky vest on top. The neckline of the shirt was rounded and covered her assets. So did the vest. But he could still see the slight swell and curve of her breasts, enough for him to be distracted by the sight.

And the way she was staring at him, she was equally off-kilter.

“What can I do for you?” he asked.

“I was hoping we could talk.”

He nodded. “I’m glad you’re here. Let me go upstairs and grab a shirt.”

He hoped she didn’t bolt before he got back.

JASON DISAPPEARED up the loft stairs, leaving Lauren with one thought. Thank God he’d gone to put on a shirt, because his bare chest was a distraction she didn’t need or want. She’d taken in his muscled forearms and the dark sprinkling of hair that tapered into the waistband of his jeans and her mouth had grown dry. She knew what lay below those jeans.

Now she had a chance to shore up her defenses. Business first. Last. Only.

She glanced around the room, noticing the fallen ladder, paint tray and a sullen-looking dog with floppy ears who lay beside both. “Hey there, what’s your name?” she asked as she knelt down beside him and patted his head.

The telephone on Jason’s desk rang and the answering machine picked up on the second ring. “Corwin Contractors, leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible,” Jason’s deep voice said, followed by a long beep.

“Hey, it’s Greg. I can’t thank you enough for trading me the Dunning house for turning down the Perkins job.”

Lauren heard her last name and rose to her feet, paying close attention to the rest of the message.

“I’m hoping to bag some of the landmark restorations due around here and this job ought to help. I owe you one.” He paused and Lauren thought he’d hang up, but there was more. “Good luck with your lady,” he added before disconnecting the call.

Jason had sabotaged her opportunity to hire Greg Charlton, Lauren thought, and her blood pressure spiked. She now had no doubt he’d done the same thing with Mark Miller. No wonder both men had been unable to take on her small project.

Of all the nerve.

Footsteps sounded as Jason came down the stairs.

He’d pulled on a long-sleeved navy sweatshirt, but his feet were bare, which she found ridiculously sexy.

He hit the bottom step and came to a halt. “I take it you heard that?” He pointed to the answering machine on the desk.

“Rhetorical question. I’m not deaf.” She clasped her hands in front of her, squeezing them tight, feeling the blood flow nearly stop.

She took one look at his handsome face, and the words just toppled off her tongue. “Just tell me why. Why do you want to work beside me so badly? Ten years ago you left without so much as a word, and now after one night you’re manipulating people to get this job?” She whirled away, frustrated and embarrassed she’d admitted so much.

He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her back against his chest until his body heated her from the outside in. She struggled not to melt back into him and enjoy the sensations, but she sensed a losing battle. Just as she’d known it would be.

“How?” Jason asked her.

“How what?”

“How did you expect me to get in touch with you?” he asked, his breath warm in her ear. “Your grandmother found out about us, packed you up and sent you away. One day you were just gone. It wasn’t like you left a forwarding address.”

“How did you find out I was gone?” Lauren asked.

“Your grandmother came by and took great pleasure in letting me know I’d never see you again.”

Lauren’s stomach cramped at that. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

He shrugged, leaning his chin against her head. “It’s not your fault. Now answer my question. How did you expect me to find you?”

She turned. “From the letters I wrote you…” Her voice trailed off as she caught the stunned expression on his face. “You didn’t get any letters, did you?”

He shook his head, the regret in his expression as obvious as the pain she’d been through all those years ago.

“I’d lay odds my grandmother intercepted your mail at the post office.” Her reach had been that far, her deviousness that deep. Lauren drew a calming breath. “It doesn’t matter now anyway.”

Even if he’d received her letters, she had no way of knowing whether he’d have waited for her. If his feelings had been as serious as hers.

She was wrong, Jason thought. It mattered. He just didn’t know how much. What would he have done differently if he’d known where to find her? If he’d known she still wanted him and he hadn’t been just a brief summer fling she’d forgotten about as soon as she’d been sent home?

He shook his head at the unanswered questions, knowing too well how futile it was to try to change the past.

He was better off focusing on the future. “If that’s true, if it doesn’t matter, then you should have no problem hiring me for your construction project.” He brushed her hair off her shoulder, sliding his fingers down the long strands.

The silky sensation shot through his body as if he were stroking her bare skin.

“If we’re going to work together, we need to have boundaries.” Her voice shook, telling him his touch affected her, too. “You shouldn’t have manipulated me to get this job.”

“I tried asking you outright,” he reminded her. “You turned me down.” He shot her a sheepish, apologetic grin.

“That doesn’t excuse your underhanded dealings,” she said, trying to sound stern.

And failing. A cute smile pulled at her lips.

Jason knew how to push to get what he wanted. His persistence had paved the way for him to win successive snowboarding championships until he’d been derailed. He knew Lauren had come here because she was out of options, but he didn’t want to force her. He wanted to make her acquiescence as easy as possible.

“Look, if it’s any consolation I was going to tell you eventually. I’m not big on secrets. I just wanted an in, something you weren’t about to give me. So can’t we just move on from here? What do you say?”

She finally shrugged. “I say we get to work.” She extended her hand and he grasped it.

On contact, white-hot darts of desire licked at his veins.

“Not so fast,” she said, throwing the equivalent of cold water over him.

She attempted to slide her hand out of his grasp, but he held on tight.

“What is it?” he asked.

“You have to agree to my rules.”

“And what would those be?” he asked, amused.

“All work and no play. So do we have an agreement?”

He burst out laughing. Did she honestly believe they could work together and not act on their crazy attraction?

“Something funny?” she asked.

He shook his head, sobering fast. “There’s nothing remotely amusing about that rule,” he said.

“I agree. So?”

He swallowed a groan.

What choice did he have if he wanted entry into her life? He also wanted entry into her body again, but he was a long way from that particular goal. Unless he could figure out a way around her stipulation, he was destined for cold showers for the next few weeks.

Her hand remained inside his. He caressed her palm with his thumb and she inhaled a barely audible sigh. It was low but he heard it and his body reacted, hardening in an instant.

That’s when he realized he had a solution. “We have a deal,” he said, adding one qualification. “As long as I have the right to try and change your mind.”

Since he’d effectively cornered her into hiring him, his addendum wasn’t fair and he knew it. But she obviously wanted him, too, which to his way of thinking put them on equal footing.

Her eyes were glazed with desire, narrowed in thought.

But in his mind it was a win-win situation. They’d get to know each other again in the time she had left. That she was leaving soon helped ease his mind about getting involved with a woman who had always affected him so strongly. So did her reticence.

He’d been recently burned by a hot and heavy romance with Kristina, but this one with Lauren had a beginning, middle and predestined end.

Surely she was smart enough to realize the same thing.

“Well?” he asked, staring pointedly at their intertwined hands.

She drew a deep breath and looked him in the eye. “Jason?”

“Yes?” He held his breath.

“Tomorrow morning, my house. Game on.” She pulled her hand from his and straightened her spine, swinging her hair over her shoulder in a sassy display of attitude surely meant to cover her uncertainty.

No way was she sure of victory. Not the way she’d been nearly panting from just holding his hand. Damned if he wasn’t rock hard and ready to go, too.

She turned and started for the door.

“See you then…sweetheart.”

She missed a step, righted herself and kept on going.

Satisfied, more than satisfied really, Jason folded his arms across his chest and glanced down at Fred. “Game on, Fat Man,” he said to the dog.

Tomorrow morning at nine, their battle of wills would begin. As a competitor of the fiercest kind, Jason looked forward to the challenge.

PROGRESS WAS a thing of beauty, Clara Deveaux thought as she dusted the old treasures in Edward’s house. Things he’d accumulated over the years. Some might call them clutter, but she respected them because they had meaning to the man she loved. She’d always been a believer in good Wiccan magic, never a believer in bad.

She emulated her Jamaican grandmother’s ways and lived by the saying, first do no harm. It had worked well for her until that fateful day her father had arrived from Jamaica, determined to marry Clara off to a man he’d chosen. She’d already met and fallen in love with the gruff, eccentric Edward Corwin by then, but she hadn’t wanted to disappoint her father. Never mind that she was already forty years old, the situation had been a tricky one since she was raised to respect and honor her parents.

She’d been planning to tell her father the truth, but her two worlds collided; the tall Jamaican with the flowers, her father moving fast and discussing wedding plans, and the wounded man she loved. Edward had walked into the shop and correctly interpreted the men’s intent. He hadn’t trusted in Clara’s feelings and had stormed out.

After explaining to her father and suitor that she had no intention of agreeing to an arranged marriage, she’d gone in search of Edward. She’d tried to reach him but he’d wanted nothing to do with her. That had been the last she’d seen of him for seven years, until Amber Rose Corwin had walked into her shop to buy a gift for her new father-in-law, Edward Corwin. That had been Clara’s sign.

She’d returned to Edward’s life, determined to wait as long as it took for him to heal so they could have a future. After his hospitalization last year, the doctor put him on antianxiety medication. Mike, Edward’s son, had asked her to move in, make sure he took his pills and keep his appointments. Clara knew the Goddess was looking out for her then.

It had only been about four months, but there was light. Edward talked to her at dinner. Not rambled, disjointed thoughts but real conversation. He’d ask about her day, her business. He had begun reaching out to her at last. Baby steps, but she was so grateful.

She replaced old candles around the house with fresh, new ones, wanting the scent to permeate by the time she returned home from work. Ever since she’d reopened her shop, Crescent Moon, here in Stewart, her New Age gift business was better than ever.

Her home life was harmonious and she was at peace. Maybe tonight she’d kiss Edward on the cheek before going to bed. It would be their first physical sign of affection but Clara felt certain Edward was ready.

JASON ARRIVED at the Perkins mansion at nine on the dot. Clipboard in hand to take notes on the project, he walked up the front porch to find the door ajar. As he stepped inside, a flash of fur whizzed past him, brushing his pant leg as it made a mad break for freedom.

“Hello? Lauren?” he called out.

“I’ll be right there!” Her voice sounded from deep inside the house.

Shoving his hands into his jeans pockets, he paced the outer hallway of the large house. He’d never been inside before and, based on his history with this family, he expected old ghosts to reach out and touch him. Instead, all he sensed was an old home with peeling paint, a mildewed smell and dilapidated flooring.