Lucky Break (9 page)

Another half hour passed as they filled one another in on their lives, then the subject turned to Jason. Clara was surprised they hadn't focused on him earlier. These women were so happily
settled down they wanted everyone around them to be the same way.

Two Corwin cousins down. One more to go.

“Sharon, you're the one who found Jason with Lauren Perkins at the festival, and we all know Uncle Edward heard he's working on restoring her grandmother's house,” Gabrielle said, eyes gleaming. “So do you know what's going on?”

“Wait, how does Sharon know Lauren?” Amber asked.

“Lauren used to spend summers with her grandmother and we were friends,” Sharon said.

“Then didn't you know her, too, Gabrielle?” Clara asked. Sharon and Gabrielle had been childhood pals.

Gabrielle shook her head. “Most summers my family visited relatives in Paris. I really never met Lauren until right before the fire.”

“This is getting complicated,” Amber said, laughing. “But back to Jason and Lauren. What's going on with them?”

“I know there's mutual interest,” Sharon replied with her usual caution. “But I also know Lauren's fixing up the house so she can sell it to waiting buyers. So if you're aiming to matchmake, I think you're out of luck. She's leaving for Paris at the end of the year.”

“Paris? What's in Paris?” Gabrielle asked.

“Haute Couture Fashion Week. I'd think you would have that on your radar, considering how much you love clothes and shoes,” Sharon said, laughing. “Lauren Perkins is an up-and-coming dress designer.”

Clara saw Gabrielle's astute mind start to work. The woman loved fashion and anything related to style. “I don't recognize the name Lauren Perkins…Wait!” She snapped her fingers. “LP Designs, right? She's with Galliano now.”

Sharon looked thoughtful for a moment. “I think that's the name of her company. I'm not sure.”

“How could you not know? Oh, never mind.” Gabrielle rolled her eyes at her friend. “I'll have to get over to the house and reintroduce myself.”

“So you don't hold it against her?” Sharon asked, obviously relieved. “That her sister and grandmother tried to destroy your husband's family? That they perpetuated the curse?”

“No, why would I?” Gabrielle said. “She didn't have anything to do with it.”

Clara smiled, so pleased at the friends she'd made, their wisdom and openmindedness.

“So if she and Jason got together, a Corwin and a Perkins,” Sharon pushed, spelling things out, “you really wouldn't care?”

“If she made Jason happy, I'd be all for it!” Gabrielle announced.

Sharon nodded. “Good, because I really want her to be accepted while she's here. I didn't want anyone to hold what her family did against her.”

“Well, she won't get that kind of treatment from us,” Gabrielle promised.

“I agree,” Amber said. “Of all people, I know what it's like to try and outrun past mistakes.”

Clara smiled. Yes, Amber would understand. She'd met Mike Corwin in Vegas, married him on a whim and abandoned him before he even woke up the next day. She'd had her reasons, but she'd spent a long time making up for her choices and still hadn't forgiven herself completely, even though her husband had.

“As long as Jason is happy, that's all we care about,” Amber said. “So does she make him happy?”

Clara, who'd been content to let the other women speak, decided it was time she added her two cents. “She makes him more than happy. I think she's his destiny.” Finally she'd admitted aloud what she'd been keeping inside since the day of the tarot reading.

“Now that's a mouthful,” Amber said, her eyes wide.

“Tell me about it.” Clara's biggest problem was
that Jason's chance for happiness reinforced Edward's greatest fear.

“What do you mean you think she's his destiny?” Gabrielle asked.

Clara didn't want to push for this relationship when it would only hurt the man she loved. It wasn't that Clara was worried about whether or not Edward would eventually accept her love. If they were meant to be, then they'd have a future together. But she knew that revealing her sense of inevitability regarding Lauren and Jason might trigger something in Edward that would lead to further regression or even breakdown.

Still, Clara believed in following the clues of the tarot to wherever they led. She couldn't keep this to herself. Not if the family could help.

“I did a reading for Jason before the festival and I saw her,” Clara said.

“Saw who? Lauren?” Sharon asked.

Clara nodded. “In a sense. I saw a woman of mystery wearing a red mask—the ultimate expression of undying love.”

She'd also seen the white picket fence and the potential for happily ever after. “A Corwin and a Perkins union would undo the past,” Clara said softly.

“I love it!” Amber said, her blond curls bounc
ing around her face as she practically jumped up in her seat.

Clara had expected Amber's enthusiastic reaction, but she glanced warily at Gabrielle. An author who debunked the paranormal, Gabrielle had forged a mutual respect with Clara despite their differing beliefs. Gabrielle's last work, written in the months following the fire, refuted the Corwin Curse and put forth other more logical explanations for all the tragedies that had befallen the family over the generations.

What Clara had just suggested was contrary to Gabrielle's commonsense beliefs.

Gabrielle glanced down, then met Clara's gaze. “I love the notion of Jason's happiness even if I don't believe there's a past to undo,” she said at last.

Clara smiled. “Fair enough.” She admired the other woman greatly. “Sharon?”

She swirled her wine in her glass. “I want Jason to be happy, too, but Lauren's leaving. She has plans and I can't see anything that would make her stay, especially in a place where she would have to face all the problems her family caused day in and day out.”

“Women and men do strange things in the name of love,” Clara mused. “I just think we have to wait and see what the Fates have in store.”

“Why wait when we can nudge things in the right direction?” Amber asked.

“As long as things take their natural course,” Clara said warily.

Gabrielle cleared her throat. “They're already working together, right? So we just need to keep it that way. What could be more natural than that?”

“Exactly!” Amber's excitement was tangible. “Just a little extra work that will keep Jason in the house more often. Nothing serious or extreme, I promise.” She held up one hand.

“See? All natural matchmaking.” Gabrielle grinned.

“I like it. Who's in?” Amber asked.

Clara hoped she didn't live to regret this as she joined the other women at the table and raised her hand.

 

F
OUR DAYS INTO
Lauren's project, Jason thought he would lose his mind. What had started as a mission to show Lauren he could work on her house like a professional and accomplish everything she needed without distraction—
sexual distraction
—had turned into a form of self-torture. It didn't matter that he had men from his crew milling around or the electrician inspecting the wiring. His focus was solely on her.

He'd been determined to let sex be on her terms. He wanted her to come to him so that she didn't have any regrets afterward, ensuring many a repeat performance. At least until she left town.

But being around her was wearing him down. From the tight jeans she wore, to the way she hummed off-key to the music she played on her iPod, to the sexy sway of her hips as she cleaned and scrubbed each room from top to bottom, she slowly, systematically was driving him insane. He didn't think he could wait for her to give in first.

As a successful athlete, he'd always attracted women easily. Whether it was the ski bunny groupies who hung around the lodge where he worked and practiced, or the women who wanted to say they'd scored with the world champion. Judging by the chemistry between them, which was stronger now than in the past, Lauren wasn't more than a kiss away from being in his bed again.

Yet for one of the first times in his life, he wasn't eager to take what he wanted just because the woman in question could be easily swayed. He didn't know if it was the bruising his ego had taken in the past year, or if it had just been too long since a woman had wanted Jason Corwin the man, not the athlete. He feared it was more about the woman herself. And she was doing her best to remain elusive.

But he needed Lauren to come to him and admit she wanted him.

Now that work was finished for the day, he headed to check in with his lady boss. He couldn't locate Lauren, which surprised him since they'd fallen into a routine. He arrived at the house at eight in the morning, before his small crew, and he worked later than his men, until Lauren called a halt. She enticed him away from patching holes in the walls with the lure of dinner, always some kind of take-out food.

She didn't cook and didn't apologize for it. He wasn't great around the kitchen either, which normally left him eating at the diner in town or mooching some of Clara's home cooking, which was delicious. But since he'd started working at the Perkins house, he was back to eating takeout.

He didn't mind one bit. He preferred sitting across the table from Lauren each night. Learning more, with every meal, about the woman she'd become.

He finally found her in a far room, one he knew she was putting off fixing until last. She was on her knees, her head half inserted into one of the holes in the wall, her delectable rear end sticking out for him to see.

The woman had amazing curves and soft skin. He knew that firsthand, but seeing her in such a pro
vocative position took him off guard and his mouth went dry at the sight. His groin hardened, throbbing against the zipper of his jeans. Visions of stripping off his clothes and taking her in that position, his entire body wrapped around hers as he thrust into her over and over again, filled his mind.

He let out a groan, knowing no way in hell was he going to be able to wait for her to come to him.

 

T
HE CAT HAD BEEN
crying pitifully from somewhere inside the house. Lauren had done a systematic room-to-room check, listening for the sound to grow louder, but no luck. She'd worked her way from the bedroom, where the cat stayed with her at night, to the far end of the house when finally the meows had grown more distinct and she realized the cat had crawled into one of the many ridiculously large holes punched in the drywall and gotten stuck there.

She'd lowered herself to her hands and knees, gingerly easing her head into the wide space, and peeked inside. Pitch-black, she couldn't see a thing.

“Now that's a nice sight.” Jason followed up his words with an appreciative whistle.

Startled, Lauren jumped up, banged her head and fell back onto her butt, her head aching from where she'd smacked it on the wall.

She braced her hands on either side of her hips and glared up at him. “Didn't anyone ever tell you not to sneak up on a person?” she asked as she rubbed her sore head.

“Sorry.” She noticed he was trying not to laugh but the corners of his mouth kept tugging up. “You okay?”

“Nothing bruised but my head—and my ego,” she muttered.

This time he allowed the grin. “Mind if I ask what you were looking for?”

“The cat's stuck inside. He's been crying on and off.”

“And here I thought his favorite place was the hood of my truck.”

“Try to control your jealousy,” Lauren said. “He's there more often than not.” As long as the hood of Jason's car was warm from use, the cat tended to sit on his throne and survey his kingdom.

“I knew I shouldn't have left those holes uncovered,” he muttered. “Well, I can't possibly patch them all in one day, but I'll cover them so he can't get stuck again. Let's get him out of here first.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Tell you what,” he said as he held his hand out for her. “You get a treat to help coax him out and I'll go find a flashlight.”

“The one you paid for is in the drawer near the dishwasher. I'll get it.” She placed her palm in his and he pulled her up. Electricity shot up her arm and settled in her chest.

Light-headed from the sensation, she held on to his grasp and she couldn't stop staring at his mouth. Suddenly aroused, she wanted those lips on hers, wanted him to pull her into his arms and not let her go until she agreed to let him make love to her here and now.

Not that it would take any persuasion at all. And from the way he stared at her, his expression taut, his gaze hungry, she knew he felt the same way.

How had this happened? She'd been telling herself she didn't want to get involved with him any more than she already was, yet every evening she'd ordered enough dinner for two and invited him to stay. Each night, she'd shared just enough information about herself to keep conversation going, convincing herself she was maintaining a reasonable distance. Pretending the sexual deprivation and longing weren't killing her.