Chapter Three
“Lauren! Come back!”
Jason recognized the woman who’d interrupted his and Lauren’s reunion.
He climbed down from the loft and faced the mayor’s wife. “Hey, Sharon. What are you doing here?”
Of all people to catch him, Sharon wasn’t the worst choice. At least she wasn’t a nosy relative and she did know how to be discreet.
“Jason!” Her voice rose in surprise, her attention darting from him to the door Lauren had bolted through minutes before. “Richard asked me to pick up his jacket. He thought he left it here this afternoon.” She studied him without saying a word.
She obviously knew what he’d been doing in the loft. Did she expect him to apologize? She was one of the only people who knew about his past relationship with Lauren and she’d never judged. But she looked about to do so now, hands on her hips, frown on her face.
Sharon finally groaned. “Jason, what’s going on? Lauren’s only back in town for a few weeks, until she gets her grandmother’s house ready to sell. If you hurt her again, I swear to God, I’ll kill you myself.”
Women and their damn loyalty to each other, he thought, and then her words registered. “What do you mean hurt her? Her grandmother sent her away. End of story.”
And the tough guy he’d thought he was had hurt more than he’d wanted to admit. He’d thrown himself into his Olympic dreams with everything he had, so he wouldn’t have to think or feel.
Sharon waved her hands in front of her. “Oh, no. It’s not my story to tell,” she said.
A chill shook Jason to his core. “Fine.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I’ll find out myself.” Because seeing Lauren again had given him a lift he hadn’t felt in a long time.
She had done that for him. Not even his family had been able to shake his depression and sense of loss over his career. If there was something more to her departure all those years ago, he wanted to know. He also wanted to see her again.
“Fine. I’ll grab the jacket and let’s get out of here.”
They walked back to the festival in silence. Sharon no doubt was consumed with concern for her friend, while Jason was consumed with thoughts of the same person, but for very different reasons.
Suddenly he heard their names being called and Derek and Gabrielle and Amber, his cousin Mike’s wife, descended.
“There you are!” Gabrielle said, pulling her husband along with her. “I’ve been looking for you!”
“And I told you he was perfectly fine,” Derek muttered. He sent Jason an apologetic glance. “Sorry. She forgets you’re a grown man.”
Gabrielle frowned, realizing she might have overstepped her bounds. “I just wanted to make sure you hadn’t gone home early to sit around and watch TV when you could still be with us having fun.”
“And we definitely didn’t want you to be all alone,” Amber said, backing up Gabrielle.
“He wasn’t alone,” Clara objected, joining the circle.
“What do you mean he wasn’t alone?” Amber and Gabrielle asked in unison.
Jason rolled his eyes. This was the way of things every time his family got together. Good-natured meddling. “How would you know I wasn’t alone?” he asked Clara.
“It was a hunch. But thank you for confirming it,” she said, smiling. “I’m glad to know my reading was correct.” She folded her arms across her chest, pleased with herself.
Jason groaned. “Why aren’t you in the booth I spent hours constructing?”
“Because I needed a break,” she explained. “I had a lineup for the last few hours.”
“Well, I’m happy for you,” he muttered.
“Who is she?” Gabrielle asked. “Who were you with?”
“What was the prediction?” Amber added.
Derek grabbed his wife’s arm and started to pull her away. “We’re leaving,” he promised Jason. “And Amber’s coming with us.”
“Not until we hear everything!” the women said in unison.
Jason gritted his teeth.
Beside him, Sharon remained silent. Of all the women, she was the most discreet.
“Sharon?” Gabrielle asked her best friend. “Did you happen to see?”
Jason sighed, resigned to his fate. “Go on,” he said to Sharon. “Tell them.”
Clara leaned in closer so she could hear, too.
“What? Your cards didn’t tell you her name?” He couldn’t help but tease her.
Sharon shrugged. “If you’re sure you want them to know.”
He nodded. They wouldn’t give him peace otherwise.
“He was with Lauren Perkins,” Sharon said.
Gabrielle and Amber stared, shocked.
“Shit, Jason. You do know how to pick them,” Derek said, one corner of his mouth lifting in an amused grin.
Jason speared his cousin with an annoyed glance. “I thought you were taking your wife and leaving.”
Clara stared at him in silence. Unaware of his and Lauren’s past, she was clearly processing the implications of a Corwin man hooking up with a Perkins woman. As far as Jason knew, that hadn’t happened since the eighteen hundreds and the affair had resulted in the infamous Corwin Curse that had haunted the men in his family for generations. He didn’t much give a damn, but knew there were some in his family who would.
“Ooh, wait until the uncles hear about this,” Amber said, ending her comment with a long whistle.
“I’d rather they didn’t,” Jason said pointedly. No sense putting them into an uproar the likes of which his family probably hadn’t seen since the curse was invoked.
The news might put Uncle Edward back in the hospital, Uncle Hank would run for his shotgun—not that he’d ever used it—and Jason’s father might end up starching his underwear in order to keep that facade of perfection for the outside world.
He stared at his cousin’s wives until they both nodded in understanding.
Derek and Clara knew all too well what would happen if Hank and Edward, especially, discovered this secret.
Satisfied, Jason let out a long breath. “Where’s your husband?” he asked Amber, turning the subject away from himself.
“The town hired him as extra security for tonight, remember?” Amber asked. Mike Corwin was a cop.
After his reunion with Lauren and their short mind-blowing time in the barn, Jason barely recalled his own name.
Like Cinderella running from the prince after the ball, Lauren entered her grandmother’s house at the stroke of midnight. For someone who didn’t believe in fairy tales any more than she believed in curses, that was a huge analogy for her to make. She should have stayed and faced Jason, but once she realized he’d known it was her all along, she’d panicked at the thought of having some kind of deep conversation.
Childish, immature, but completely rational, she thought, her heart still racing in her chest. She’d just slept with Jason. How on earth did she deal with that after all these years?
With coffee, that’s how. As she headed to the kitchen, a cool draft hit her cheek. She glanced at the window—one she didn’t recall opening earlier—and frowned.
She pushed it down but couldn’t lock it. “Damn.”
Had someone broken in while she was gone? She shook off the thought. This house was just falling apart. The lock was probably faulty, and she must have left the window open. Another thing to tack on to her To Do list.
She walked to the refrigerator and pulled out a container, pouring the last of the cream into a bowl for the cat that had come with the house. She’d been living here for over a week, and until now, she’d only fed him cat food, but she’d run out and had forgotten to buy more on the way home from visiting Beth. So all she had now was cream for the cat. The black cat.
Given her family history, she couldn’t afford to be superstitious, which was a good thing. Lauren wasn’t a cat person by nature and she didn’t know the first thing about having one, but this animal didn’t seem to care. He hung out by the front door despite Lauren’s attempts to shoo him away. From his hefty build, he wasn’t starving. The empty bowls on the porch had led Lauren to conclude that the neighborhood kids must have been feeding him prior to her arrival. The same kids who’d vandalized the windows and walls had a soft spot for a stray?
Stranger things had happened, she thought. Like the cat finding its way inside the house, making himself at home and eating and drinking enough for three.
Said cat now sat at her feet and meowed endlessly.
She glanced at the furry feline. “Fine!” She set the bowl on the floor, realizing there was no cream left for her coffee, but at least now there was blessed silence. The cat happily lapped up the liquid.
“Looks like I’m going to have to make another trip to town tomorrow,” she said to the cat she hadn’t yet named.
He didn’t have a collar. Lauren could put up signs in town advertising a lost cat. And if no one claimed him? She wondered if she could include him with the house. Since there was no way she could take him to Paris, she’d just have to make sure she found him a good home before she left.
He finished the remainder of the cream, looking as satisfied as Lauren had felt after having sex with Jason earlier tonight.
Flushing at the memory, her body still tingling, she rinsed the bowl and headed for the downstairs bedroom. Lauren sat down on the bed and the cat jumped beside her and snuggled onto her pillow.
Right in the middle.
She sighed and stretched out beside her furry friend, wishing the warm body beside her was Jason. A dangerous thought and another reason she knew she had to leave town fast. He’d hurt her once but that was before she’d had her dreams to follow. Maybe that was how he’d felt all those years ago. She had been a potential distraction from his Olympic dreams and her leaving had been for the best. If so, she understood him that much better now.
At least she’d had tonight with him.
Tomorrow she’d head to town and ask around about hiring a contractor to work on the house. The sooner she completed the repairs, the sooner she could close on the sale and be finished with this town.
And with Jason Corwin.
“Cats should come with a manual,” Lauren muttered as she picked up items she needed for herself and her pet in the grocery store.
First stop was the cat food aisle. No more cream for this kitty. On awakening, she’d discovered that the midnight snack had resulted in a mess she didn’t want to think about or face ever again.
When she’d called a friend in New York who owned a cat, Liza had burst out laughing. “Didn’t you buy him a litter box?” she’d asked.
No, she hadn’t. Because Lauren had thought the outdoor cat would do its thing in the great outdoors.
She paid for the groceries and a litter box with cash, placed the bags in her car and headed for the hardware store.
When she was younger, the creaking sounds in her grandmother’s old house had frightened her and she’d always slept with a flashlight by her bed. After the scare with the window last night, she’d gone looking for a flashlight only to find it didn’t work. New batteries hadn’t helped, so she needed to buy a new one.
She rounded the aisle and headed for the register.
There was one person in front of her and she waited for him to put his change away and step aside before she walked forward and placed her purchase on the counter.
The middle-aged clerk stared at her “You’re Mary Perkins’s granddaughter, aren’t you?”
The few times she’d come to town to do her shopping, she’d had mixed reactions, from silent acceptance to overtly rude whispers.
“Yes, I’m Mary’s granddaughter.” She didn’t recognize the clerk, but he must have seen her on one of her visits to Beth.
He braced his hands on the counter. “I heard you were in town.”
She nodded. “You heard right.” She pushed the flashlight forward, hoping to urge things along.
“Whatcha doing back here? It’s not like you got any relatives left to visit.”
Apparently manners weren’t his strong suit. She straightened her shoulders and looked at him head-on. “I’m here to fix up the family home so I can sell it and move on. Which reminds me, do you happen to know the name of a contractor I can hire?”
He frowned. “Not off the top of my head, but if I think of one, I’ll let you know.” He wouldn’t meet her eyes.
He was lying. There was no way a hardware store clerk in a small town didn’t know a contractor.
Gritting her teeth, she pulled her wallet from her purse and slid a credit card across the counter.
He glanced down at it. “We don’t take credit.”
She narrowed her gaze. “Well, I just spent the last of my cash at the grocery store.”
“Then I guess you’re out of luck.” He folded his arms over his chest.
“Guess Perkins credit is no good here?” she asked sarcastically, shoving her card back into her wallet. “Tell you what. I’ll just take my business somewhere else.”
“Put it on my account,” a distinctive male voice said.
Jason materialized beside her. She wondered how much he’d overheard and her stomach cramped in embarrassment. “Thanks but that’s not necessary. I can pick up a flashlight at another store.”
“Hey, Corwin, you know who that is?” the clerk asked.
“What I know is that’s no way to treat a lady, Burt.” Jason stared at the man, a frown on his handsome face.
Burt scratched his bald head. “That’s not a lady, that’s a—”
“I said put it on my tab.” Jason grabbed the flashlight in one hand, her elbow in another, and led her out of the store.
Once on the sidewalk she looked him over in broad daylight. He appeared even more handsome than last night. He wore faded jeans and a black turtleneck. Razor stubble covered his cheeks, giving him a scruffy, sexy appearance, and her stomach fluttered in excitement.
“I looked all over for you last night.” He studied her just as intently.
“I left.”
“Places to go, people to see?” he asked wryly. “Or were you just avoiding me?”
He’d hit a nerve and she straightened her shoulders. “Avoiding a conversation we didn’t need to have.”
“You should know that I intend to have that talk sometime.”
Not here, where anyone could see them. “You really didn’t have to put the flashlight on your tab,” she said, changing the subject. “But I appreciate it.”
He inclined his head, accepting her thanks. “There was no call for Burt to treat you that way,” he said gruffly.
She shrugged, unconcerned with the other man’s rudeness. “Maybe he had his reasons. I wasn’t about to ask what my grandmother or sister did to piss him off. But don’t worry, I’ll pay you back.”
He rolled his eyes. He didn’t care about the money. “Flashlight’s on me.” He held it out for her.
She took it, avoiding his touch. “Thanks.”
But he stepped closer, his body looming over her. “So how much longer are we going to do this dance?”
“What dance?” She knew playing dumb wasn’t the answer but the words slipped out.
“The one where you avoid telling me why you didn’t just admit who you were last night?”
She had no rational reply. Last night, it had made a kind of crazy sense. She’d wanted to watch from afar, see him again and walk away. In the light of day it seemed plain silly.
“Why didn’t you just tell me you recognized me?” she asked instead.
He shrugged. “You seemed to need the anonymity. And frankly, pretending to have sex with a stranger kind of turned me on.” The corners of his mouth pulled up in a wicked, sexy grin.
His words set her entire body aflame, much the way his hands had last night.
“You look good,” he said, his voice thick.
“Thank you. So do you.” His dark hair was still as thick, his eyes still as blue and his body as hard and—
“I heard you ask Burt for the name of a contractor?”
She nodded, grateful he’d interrupted her thoughts before they could get X-rated. “Do you know of one?”
“As a matter of fact, I do. Jason Corwin, contractor, at your service.” He swept his hand through the air and executed a mock bow.
Now that was a life change and she couldn’t let it go unspoken. “Listen, I heard about what happened—”
He quickly dismissed the subject. “Forget it. It’s in the past.”
She understood and respected the fact he wouldn’t want to discuss it. “I just wanted to tell you…1 believe you’re innocent. Jason, you couldn’t have changed who you are in here.” Unable to help herself, she reached over and placed her hand on his heart. “I just thought you should know.”
At the unexpected touch, his nostrils flared, his pupils dilated and his heart rate kicked up beneath her palm.
Lauren slowly lowered her hand. “So you’re a contractor?” she asked, severing the physical connection.
“It’s what I know best.”
Next to snowboarding.
Years ago he’d told her how he’d gotten into the sport. Once he’d discovered the alternative to skiing, he’d started a snowboarding club at school, arranging trips to Wachusett Mountain an hour away. He raised money for equipment and practice time by working for his uncles in construction. A means to an end, not a passion. If anyone took fashion design away from her, she’d be adrift and miserable. She couldn’t imagine how Jason was getting by.
But he wouldn’t want her pity.
“I’m free to handle your job,” he said, interrupting her thoughts.
But she couldn’t handle the temptation of working side by side with him, day after day for the next few weeks. Heat rushed through her at the thought, which was exactly the reason she couldn’t hire him.
Lauren drew a deep breath. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but we can’t work together.”
He’d be a distraction that would keep her from focusing on the house. And if that weren’t enough of a problem, she didn’t want to spend time with him, get to know him again, grow more attached and face the pain she’d lived through once before. She didn’t want to fall in love with him all over again.
And she certainly didn’t want ties to this town after she was gone.
He raised an eyebrow and shot her a knowing look.
She ignored him. “Can you recommend anyone else?” she asked instead.
“I can.” He shoved his hands into his pockets and shrugged. “But none as good as me.”
She already knew that firsthand. Fire burned her cheeks and she hoped a blush didn’t give her away.
He paused for a good, long time. So long she wondered if he was going to even answer. Finally, he said, “Got a pen and paper?”
She dug through her purse and handed him what he asked for.
He scribbled names and numbers on her small notepad. “There are two other local contractors, one in Perkins, the other one here in Stewart. We refer each other when we’re overbooked.”
“Thanks.”
“Good luck.”
She nodded and reluctantly turned away, surprised and strangely disappointed he’d given in so easily.