Lucky Break (16 page)

“In the meantime, can you call the police and the fire department and catch up?” she asked, turning back to him.

Damn, he resented work right now. He swallowed hard. “Sure thing.”

She walked over and entwined her arms around his waist, pulling him in for a long kiss. “Did I ever say thank you for helping me with all this? I know it's a lot more than you signed up for. Good thing for you there's an end in sight,” she said lightly.

As if he needed the reminder that she was gone after the house sold in a few short weeks. After all, she'd never indicated she wanted anything more than a brief affair. And the Corwin Curse continually reminded him he should know better than to think beyond the moment. He'd never been a big believer in the curse, but he had to admit he'd never had reason
to feel threatened by it before. There'd never been a woman with this much potential—and a Perkins to boot.

His stomach churned at the thought of losing her. Son of a bitch, he thought, accepting the truth he'd been trying to push away all morning. What had begun as a fun affair and a revisiting of the past had become much more.

At least for him.

He met her gaze, her expression curious as she waited for a reply.

“Don't thank me,” he said gruffly. He hadn't signed up for the work. He'd signed up for her.

But he wasn't about to ruin their easy relationship by telling her as much. Instead he leaned forward and captured her lips in a kiss that wasn't soft or easy. He devoured her mouth, tasting, feeling, and giving back to her in return.

With a soft sigh, she molded herself against him, her breasts pushing through the soft cotton of her shirt, her hard nipples grazing his chest. God, he wanted her. Wanted to be inside her, feel her heat contracting around him.

But he also knew her priorities and he'd respect them even if it killed him.

Pulling back, he looked at her, pleased with what he saw. Her eyes were still fogged with desire,
her lips damp, her head tilted in a way that told him she remained in that dreamy, desire-filled state.

Although he could have her now, his thoughts returned to the rules she'd set. “Work first,” he reminded her. “You'd better go shower or we'll never get out of here.”

She closed her eyes and a rumble of disappointment escaped her throat. “You're right. We've got to get back to the house.”

“But I'll make it up to you tonight,” he promised.

A sexy smile pulled at her lips. “I'll hold you to that,” she said, before she turned and ran for the shower, leaving him alone.

Aroused.

And while he cleaned the coffeepot, his thoughts returned to the two of them. And why
they
could never be. The biggest obstacle was Lauren herself. Her career path was set. Paris was waiting, along with a glamorous life he had no part in. She'd made it clear she was leaving this town and its memories as soon as her grandmother's house was sold.

He didn't miss the irony. Last time they'd been together he'd been the one who'd had a goal and no time or inclination to change course for anyone else. Now he'd be the one left behind.

He envied Lauren her goals.

He missed waking up every day with something driving him beyond the nine-to-five routine. He missed the adrenaline. Since Lauren's return to town, he'd managed to convince himself that pursuing her substituted for other goals. But he knew now he'd been deceiving himself. He needed more.

For now he had the deadline of finishing her house and solving the mystery of who'd deliberately set the fire.

But then what?

 

L
AUREN STEELED
herself as they returned to her grandmother's house. She wasn't ready to see the fire damage, but she had no choice. The sooner she viewed the house, the sooner she'd be able to deal with reality.

Jason turned the corner and pulled into the driveway right behind a car she didn't recognize. “Who is that?”

Jason shook his head and groaned. “No rest for the weary,” he muttered. “It's my father and Uncle Hank. Are you up to dealing with them?”

The older men had exited the vehicle.

Lauren glanced down. She wore a pair of Jason's drawstring sweatpants and a baggy sweatshirt. It had been borrow or wear last night's dress. As it was,
she had on a pair of stiletto heels. Yet she surprised herself by not feeling the least bit uncomfortable.

She faced Jason and shrugged. “I'm rested, I'm showered. I can take on the world.”

Or at least Jason's part of it.

The worst had already happened. Between the fire and the general state of the house, she doubted it would sell on time. But that didn't mean she wouldn't give it her all anyway.

Jason leaned over and kissed her cheek. “You're amazing.”

His words warmed her all over. “You're pretty amazing yourself.”

He'd stepped up and taken on her problems as if they were his own. He gave her a shoulder to lean on and he'd become her personal body warmer at night. In a short time, she'd grown accustomed to his strength and it scared her.

A knock on the windows jarred her and she jumped.

“You all coming out or do I have to come in after you?” Hank asked through the glass.

Jason rolled his eyes. “We're coming!”

They climbed out of the car and met the men on the driveway.

Before Jason could say a word, Hank launched into a monologue first. “The one night I fall asleep
early and don't listen to my police scanner before bed, there's a big fire. Here, of all places. And nobody called us!”

“You have a police scanner?” Lauren asked.

“From my days as a volunteer fireman,” Hank said proudly.

Thomas stepped forward. “His
day
as a volunteer fireman. Don't let the old fool kid you.”

“Just one day? What happened?” Lauren asked, genuinely curious.

“Nothin'. A small difference of opinion, that's all.” Hank flushed red in the face and glared at his brother.

Jason grinned. “Uncle Hank has a problem following orders, which happens to be a serious issue in the fire department.”

“Whatever,” Hank muttered. “Anyways, I still have my scanner—”

“He refused to give it back and nobody wanted to show up at the door and ask for it, not when he tends to greet unwanted strangers with an old shotgun,” Thomas explained.

“Unloaded shotgun, you ass,” Hank yelled at his brother. “I'd never hurt anyone.” He drew a deep breath and jerked around to face Jason. “When I listened this morning, they recapped last night's fire and we came at once!”

“We're fine,” Lauren assured the two men who, despite their bluster, looked genuinely concerned.

She couldn't help but feel sorry for them. “Why don't you both come inside? I'll make some coffee and we'll tell you what happened.” She waved toward the house. “The fire was in the back, so I'm sure the kitchen is fine.”

At her invitation, Jason shot her a grateful look.

But Hank stared at the old Victorian, trepidation in his eyes. “No offense, honey, but I can't go into the old Perkins place.”

Thomas adjusted his collar and smoothed nonexistent wrinkles in his pressed khaki pants. “I'm with my brother on this one. It's not that we don't appreciate the offer,” he said, almost bowing before Lauren in apology.

She swallowed over the unexpected lump in her throat.

Jason protectively grabbed her elbow. “As you can see, we're perfectly fine. We have work to do, so you two can go home.” His voice was laden with disappointment.

After the two men left, Lauren walked into the house, planning to go straight to her grandmother's office and sift through her papers. Instead, the first thing she noticed other than the smoky smell was the mouse caught in Jason's trap.

Before she could react, he came up behind her, grabbing her arms and steering her past it.

“I've got this. You go check out the bedroom, open the windows to air it out—if they aren't Super Glued sheet. Same with the rest of the house.”

She didn't mind taking orders if it meant he was protecting her from rodents. “What are you going to do with it?”

“I thought I'd take it for a ride and let it go somewhere far away. Okay with you?” he asked.

She nodded, feeling silly. “Thanks.”

She left the room without looking back. For the next few hours, she holed up in her grandmother's study, poring over business papers for names. Some Lauren recognized, others she didn't. None were related to the workers who'd been in the house since she'd begun renovations and her frustration grew.

She called the insurance company and asked how to file a claim. They promised to get an adjuster in touch with her in a few days. She explained she didn't have the time to spare, that she needed to get started on fixing what had been ruined in the fire, but they insisted she leave things until the inspection.

She lowered her head to her hands and fought back tears of anger and frustration. If she didn't get
this house sold, it wouldn't be the end of the world, but it would mean she'd have 2500 square feet still on her shoulders—her responsibility and depleting her bank account.

Lauren knew she still had the chest in her grandmother's closet to look through, something she'd been putting off because she sensed the drawers contained more personal items and papers. Considering their rocky relationship, Lauren felt like an intruder, looking through Mary Perkins's private things. The fire gave her the excuse and push she needed.

She rose, stretching her legs, but before she could head to her grandmother's room, Lauren heard voices coming from down the hall. Jason had his crew here, not just for work but to question them about the fire, but the voices Lauren heard didn't belong to the men. She'd grown used to the low timbre of their conversation.

She stepped into the hall and saw Amber and Gabrielle, as well as Jason's cousin Derek and a man she didn't recognize.

“Hi,” she said warily.

“Hi,” both men said.

“I'm Mike Corwin,” the good-looking, dark-haired stranger said.

Lauren nodded, noting the family resemblance. “Lauren Perkins.”

He shook her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Same here.” She had no idea what they wanted. “What's going on?” Lauren asked.

Jason strode to her side. “Derek was just about to tell us.”

“We were,” Derek said. “But I think it's best if you hear it from Gabrielle.”

“And Amber-” Mike added.

“Both have something to tell you,” Derek said.

And from the serious look in everyone's eyes, Lauren suspected they wouldn't like what they were about to hear.

J
ASON PROPPED
one shoulder against the wall and glanced at Gabrielle and Amber as they walked down the hallway. Even to Lauren's untrained eye, the two women looked guilty, looking everywhere but at Lauren or Jason.

“Tell them,” Mike instructed, staring at his wife.

“We…umm…we did a few things to the house,” Gabrielle said. She glanced down at her colorful Emilio Pucci rain boots, which Lauren loved.

But now wasn't the time to discuss fashion. Lauren's stomach churned as she asked, “You did
what
to the house?”

“And why?” Alert and wary, Jason straightened and stared at the women in confusion.

Amber stepped forward. “It's like this. We were having a Ladies' Night at The Wave. It's something we do once a month, Gabrielle, myself, Sharon and sometimes Clara.”

“And we'd very much like you to join us next time.” Gabrielle treated Lauren to a wide smile.

Derek rolled his eyes. “Quit stalling.”

“And trying to soften her up,” Mike said. “Just tell her.”

Amber sighed. “I'm getting there. Anyway, it was right after the fall festival and we already knew you two had sort of hooked up.”

Lauren's cheeks flared hot but she forced herself not to touch her face and call attention to her embarrassment.

“We immediately saw the potential for the two of you,” Gabrielle continued. “It was obvious how different Jason seemed after that night. So we figured we'd just help Cupid along, so to speak.”

Jason narrowed his gaze. “Help
how?”

Gabrielle swallowed hard. “Well, we didn't want to do any harm. We just wanted to keep you two together. So—”

“We bought pet mice at Petco and snuck inside—did you know the locks are pretty flimsy? Easily picked.” Amber's words rushed together quickly.

“Then we let the mice loose in the house.” Gabrielle stared at a point over her husband's shoulder, unwilling to meet anyone's gaze.

“Actually
I
let the mice loose,” Amber admitted.

Mike muttered a curse.

Derek said something about stupidity and meddling women.

Jason's jaw merely hung open.

And Lauren couldn't believe what she was hearing. “The mice are
pets?
As in people actually want to own them?”

Gabrielle nodded. “They spend hard-earned money on them.”

“Hold on!” Derek said. “That's what's bothering you about all this? Aren't you upset that they broke in and meddled in your life?”

“Hey!” Amber said, sounding affronted. “That's a really negative spin on things. We were just trying to help!” She placed her hands on her hips and glared at her husband's cousin.

Gabrielle walked over to Derek and calmly stroked his arm. “We just wanted to give Jason a reason to have to stick close to Lauren. Most normal women who see a mouse would freak and not want to be alone.”

“It worked,” Lauren admitted, shaking her head in disbelief.

“But she's petrified of rats and mice!” Jason exploded. “And for good reason, not that it's any of your business! Do you have any idea how stupid your plan was?”

The women winced and neither male Corwin
cousin stepped in to protect his wife from Jason's anger. They obviously agreed with his assessment. And though Lauren should as well, she just couldn't manage to get upset with them. All she could think about was that, unlike Jason's father and uncles, these women didn't mind her relationship with Jason. She wasn't sure where his cousins fell on the Perkins scale, but they seemed more upset with their wives' behavior than Jason and Lauren.

“Jason, they meant well,” Lauren said, standing up for Amber and Gabrielle. “And they apologized. That ought to count for something.”

Jason frowned, clearly unwilling to forgive and forget just yet. “Why are you confessing now?” he asked, shooting his cousins a look of pity for having to deal with these two women.

Amber groaned. “Because I was in town and I heard the fire was deliberately set—which means we weren't the only ones doing things in the house. So we wanted you to know we were responsible for the mice—” She hesitated. “And gluing the windows.”

“That would be me,” Gabrielle admitted with a wave of her hand.

Jason shook his head hard. “For the love of God,
why
?”

Gabrielle and Amber glanced at each other
before Gabrielle answered. “I'm not really sure. We tossed around ideas to keep Jason working for Lauren that didn't amount to more than a nuisance. We didn't touch the wiring or the fuse box or anything dangerous!”

“The mice worked and Jason started staying over,” Amber said. “And that should have been enough, but I felt since I'd done the mice, it was only fair Gabrielle dirty her hands, too. So I pushed her into doing the gluing.” Amber lowered her eyes, embarrassed.

“We are so sorry,” they said at the same time.

Gabrielle walked over and put a hand on Lauren's shoulder. “I realize how ridiculous it all seems now but I assure you that at the time—”

“And over drinks—” Amber added.

“It all seemed rational,” Gabrielle concluded.

Derek pinched the bridge of his nose. “I swear these two shouldn't get together,” he muttered.

“It's okay,” Lauren said. “As crazy as it sounds, with everything going on in my life, I needed a laugh and you've given me one.”

“So you're not mad?” Amber asked.

Lauren shook her head. “I'm not.”

“Jason?” Gabrielle asked.

He glanced heavenward. “I'm stupefied.”

Mike grinned. “It's a state I've become used to.”

“So you forgive us?” Gabrielle looked unconvinced.

Jason slowly nodded. “If Lauren's not mad, then neither am I.”

Gabrielle's shoulders slumped in relief.

“Thank you! We'll make it up to you,” Amber promised.

Lauren grinned. She knew exactly what she wanted in return. “How about you tell me where you got those gorgeous boots!”

“Bloomingdale's,” the other woman said. “Do you want to plan a shopping trip?”

“Thursdays are my day off,” Amber said. “So if not today, next week?”

Lauren shook her head, wishing she could take them up on their offer. Not only did she love clothes and shopping, but a girls' day out sounded like a treat. One she couldn't afford, not in time or in cash.

“I'd love to but I need to spend my free time here.” She gestured around the house. “It's got to be finished by December first.”

Amber perched her hands on her hips and surveyed her surroundings. “Can we help?”

Lauren shook her head. She'd never impose. “No, thank you, but I really appreciate the offer.”

“How
are
things going?” Derek asked.

“Other than the fire damage? It's coming along
slowly but surely,” Jason said. “I'm tackling things room by room so at least there'll be finished components by the deadline.”

“Where did the fire start?” Mike asked.

“The fire department said the wires in the electrical panel were tampered with,” Lauren said.

Mike let out a slow whistle. “Any suspects?”

“Plenty of people with access. Nobody with motive.”

“If you need any help, don't hesitate to give me a call,” his cop cousin offered.

“Now that you mention it,” Jason said, “if I give you a list of people, can you run simple checks for me? See if anyone had any connections to Lauren's grandmother or sister? I'm looking for a motive. A reason for someone to want to sabotage this house.”

“Anything I can do,” Mike promised.

Jason slapped his cousin on the back. “Thanks.”

“Same for us,” Amber reminded Lauren. “If you change your mind and decide you need any help cleaning out the house, give us a ring.”

Goodbyes said, Mike and Derek ushered their wives out of the house, leaving Lauren with the impression they weren't finished lecturing the two women. But despite the anger, there was plenty of love between these couples, as well.

Lauren envied them.

 

L
AUREN HAD BEEN RIGHT
about the police confiscating her grandmother's papers for evidence, and since her sister had taken many of the notes, they'd kept things for a potential trial. Even the small cabinet in her grandmother's closet had been emptied. Just when she'd given up finding anything helpful, Lauren had remembered that her grandmother's night table drawer had a secret compartment. When she was a little girl, Mary used to leave surprise gifts for Lauren and Beth there. So many bad memories had taken place in recent years, she'd almost forgotten there had been any good ones.

Inside the secret compartment, Lauren found an old diary. The book was small, bound in tan leather with dog-eared pages. Since she probably wouldn't find anything recent or relevant to her problems inside, Lauren placed the diary on her pillow to look through after she'd finished her work for the day.

Hours later, she finally curled up in bed with the diary. Jason eased in beside her. “Anything interesting in it?” he asked.

She flipped through, taking care with the thin, often cracked pages. “I'm not sure. I don't even recognize the writing.”

He propped himself against the pillows and
headboard and she scooted backward, curling into him so they could look together. As she scanned the pages, she realized that something liquid had spilled on the old pages. Although the paper had long since dried, it was yellowed and the writing had smudged.

What was clear, however, was that the entries had been made by one of Lauren's ancestors.

“It looks like it's written by
another
Mary Perkins,” Lauren said, excited. “Not my grandmother, but an earlier one.”

“Interesting,” he said, nuzzling her neck in a blatant attempt to distract her with sex.

And oh how she wanted to be distracted. In a few minutes. After she examined the diary a little longer.

He ran his tongue up and down her throat, but receiving no response, groaned, “I'll wait.”

“Thanks. I'll make it up to you.” And she had every intention of keeping her word.

She turned her attention back to the small book in her hand. The more she read, the more she wondered if the book belonged to
the
Mary Perkins, the woman who had placed the original curse on Jason's family. Unfortunately the entries weren't dated.

Lauren's heart beat rapidly in her chest as she
studied the fragile pages. The beginning was like a window into a woman's thoughts and longings, making Lauren uncomfortable. She didn't appreciate feeling like a voyeur, but before she could turn the page, something caught her eye.

The word
curse
had been written in capital letters at the end of the entry. “Jason, look!”

He leaned over her shoulder, his breath warm against her skin. “What does it say?”

“Before the smudging, the entry mentions an offering of some kind. After that the only clear word is
curse
. I think this book belonged to
that
Mary Perkins!”

He glanced at the diary warily. “If it did, I'm not sure I want to know.” He shuddered, then met her gaze, his turning heated. “Besides, do we really want to revisit our family history when the present is so much more interesting?” He slipped his hand under her nightshirt and settled his palm flat on her belly.

So much for his willingness to wait.

“But—”

“No buts. We can't figure this out ourselves. Talk to Clara tomorrow. I'm sure she'll know how to help you decipher it.” His gruff tone indicated his mind was on anything but ancient history.

“Hmm. That's a good idea. And while she's at
it, maybe she can exorcise the demons from this place and make the whole project run smoother.”

He shook his head. “Whatever floats your boat.”

She grinned. “That would be you.”

He lifted the book out of her hand and placed it on the nightstand, effectively ending the conversation. Then he turned to her, pulling her into his arms and sealing his lips against hers. His mouth was as hard as his body, his kiss every bit as compelling. He kissed her, making love with her, swirling his tongue inside her and drinking her up.

Every inch of her body tingled in anticipation, needing more and wanting it now. “Wait.”

She left him only long enough to undress, tossing her underwear and shirt onto the floor. He took her cue and stripped quickly, meeting her naked on the center of the bed. Every time they came together like this, she wanted to stop and look at him, savor every inch of his skin. But the urge to join with him won out.