Lucky Break (8 page)

“Good point.” She shot him a wry smile.

“What kind of flood?” he asked, concerned that the old pipes were giving her trouble.

“The kind that isn't going anywhere,” she said, turning and walking away. “I need caffeine,” she called over her shoulder. “Want some coffee?”

He blinked in surprise at her change of subject and, given no choice, he followed her. “Black would be great,” he said to her back.

Once in the kitchen, which appeared to have been renovated in the last decade at least, he sat at the table, placing his clipboard down.

Lauren worked quickly. She poured them both cups of coffee that had already brewed and handed him a steaming mug.

“Thanks,” he said.

She nodded, lifted the cup and finished her caffeine fix in short order.

“So where's the fire?” he asked, taking a sip of the hot coffee.

She placed her mug in the sink and ran water inside it. “We have work to do.”

He wasn't sure if she wanted to keep things moving quickly to avoid any serious conversation or because she really did want to get started on the job.

Regardless, he took the hint. Steeling himself, he downed his coffee and placed the cup in the sink, rinsing it as she'd done with hers.

“Let's start with the flood.” Picking up his clipboard, he gestured for her to lead the way.

After surveying the water in the large bedroom on the main floor, he realized things didn't look good. “Where's the water heater?”

“There's a laundry room over here.” She led him out of the bedroom, which he appreciated since the bed hadn't been made and the rumpled sheets only served to remind him of what he'd rather be doing.

What she'd prohibited him from doing, unless he could convince her otherwise. But he was a professional and he knew she needed to sell this house, so he focused on the job first.

“The laundry room backs up to the bedroom,” he said, reaching for the door. He opened it carefully and, just as he'd feared, found the old water heater surrounded by a huge puddle.

“Is it bad?” Lauren asked, hovering over his shoulder, so close her scent surrounded him.

“Seems that way. Considering how old and corroded the water heater looks, I'd guess it needs replacing, which means a big expense. Plus labor.” He turned to see her shocked expression.

“Well, that'll put another huge hole in my
bank account, but I don't have a choice. When will you know?”

“Contrary to popular belief, I'm not an expert at everything.”

She propped one shoulder against the wall. “Really? What a disappointment.” Despite the situation, her eyes sparkled with amusement.

He laughed. “Plumbing's not my thing, unfortunately. I'm going to have to subcontract the job. I'll make a few calls and see what I can do.”

The first plumber who came to mind was Uncle Edward, but the notion of asking him to work on the old Perkins house seemed wrong. Jason didn't want to jeopardize his uncle's recovery by pushing him too far.

“Let me start with JR Plumbing.” He called and the owner answered on the first ring.

Jason explained the situation, the emergency nature of the flood and the need to inspect the rest of the pipes in the old house as soon as possible.

“I understand and thanks.” Jason hung up. “All his guys are busy working at the elementary school. One of the pipes burst and they're getting it fixed.”

Lauren gnawed on her lower lip. “What next?”

“He has a new guy who he just interviewed but hasn't officially hired yet. He says he's eager. Keeps checking in to find out if J.R.'s got room to
hire him. He's going to give the guy a call and send him over.”

She exhaled hard. “Okay, that's one down. Ready to see the rest of the house?”

Half an hour later, he had a basic list, certain he'd be adding more as he started to work. Lauren would be in charge of cleaning and removing her grandmother's clutter and deciding what large items needed to go. The buyers were coming from a small apartment and had agreed to take most of the existing furniture.

“We need to test the appliances and see if any require repair or replacement, check the overhead fixtures for the same thing, repaint the walls, refinish the floors, check the windows and doors, and that's just off the top of my head.”

She nodded, appearing pale and overwhelmed.

“Before we go further, what's with all the holes in the walls?” he asked. “It looks like someone deliberately broke through the Sheetrock.”

She shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine. They weren't here the last time I visited my grandmother.”

“What about the alarm system?” he asked.

“Broken.”

He made a note of that and realized Lauren had clenched her hands into tight fists.

“Listen, the next step is for us to talk budget,” he said.

Lauren drew a visibly shaky breath. “Let's sit,” she suggested, leading him to the den, where he sat beside her on the couch.

“What's wrong?” he asked, reading the worry in her expression.

“It's the budget. There's just so much more to do than I originally expected.”

He nodded in understanding. “I assumed as much.”

“Look, I make a great living. That's not bragging, it's fact.”

“Based on the Porsche in the driveway, I figured as much,” he said, grinning.

“It's preowned but it's my baby.”

He caught the satisfaction in her voice and understood. “I bought the Carrera after I nailed my first sponsor. And I sold it after the scandal.” It wasn't easy to reveal his biggest humiliation, but he wanted her to know he truly understood her. Better than she might think.

She moved her hand, covering his, squeezing tight. “I'm sorry. That must have been awful.”

“By then there'd been so many degrees of awful, it didn't matter all that much.”

“Liar,” she said softly.

His mouth pulled upward into a smile. Leave it to Lauren to call him on it. “Let's focus on you, okay?”

“For now,” she said, giving him fair warning she wasn't finished with him yet. “Anyway, after the first of the year, my dresses are debuting for a huge label in Paris. If it's successful…” Her eyes widened, filled with excitement and anticipation. “It would be the answer to my dreams.”

“Then I have no doubt you'll succeed.” He placed his hand over hers.

“Really?” She tilted her head to one side as she looked for his reassurance.

“Really. You have the drive, you have the talent and you've already been discovered. Now you just need for the world to see it, too.” He smiled, his pride in her growing as he spoke.

“But it doesn't matter how much money I earn after the show. I don't have a lot now. Whatever my grandmother had in her estate went to creditors I didn't know anything about until she died, and the bulk of my savings has gone to keeping my sister's lawyer working on her case.” She curled one leg beneath her, shifting positions, not looking at him as she spoke.

He didn't much care what happened to her arsonist, Corwin-hating sister, but he didn't blame
Lauren for her family's sins. He'd had enough of being blamed for his own, and he was innocent.

It galled him, though, that the price of fixing her family's mistakes fell on her shoulders. “Are your parents still building toilets and roads for the poor?”

She grinned. “Yes, they're still out of the country doing humanitarian work.”

He hesitated about asking his next question then decided what the hell. He wanted to get to know her again, to understand what drove her and why. “That explains why they aren't here to help now, but what about financial help for your sister's attorney or for this house? Didn't they write some huge self-help book?”

She pursed her lips. “They co-wrote a parenting book, and between sales, television appearances and new editions every few years, they earned themselves a huge amount of money. They promptly took their earnings, kept a modest sum to live on and donated the proceeds to charity, something they continue to do yearly. There's nothing left to help me. And frankly even if there was, I don't think they'd find my issues outweighed those of the poor.”

He shook his head. “I wouldn't have thought giving to charity could be a bad thing.” And at the expense of their children, he thought, disgusted.

Lauren shook her head and laughed, a low, dry, humorless sound. “Tell me about it. They believe their money is going for a good cause, whereas my income, earned through a materialistic lifestyle, is expendable. Hence Beth and this house have become my responsibility.” She swept her arm through the air.

He was speechless. She'd stepped up to take care of responsibilities that should rightly belong to her parents. He admired the adult she'd become in light of the obstacles she faced.

“I have enough to cover these repairs, even with the water heater, but it'll be tight,” she said at last.

“I understand. And I promise to do this as quickly and efficiently as possible.” He'd fix as much as he could himself to save her outside costs, and he'd do it without letting her know. He had plenty of time to spare.

“Thank you for that. And for not judging.” Her smile lit up the room as well as his heart.

It was the first time they'd had a genuine conversation and a swell of emotion filled his chest. He met her gaze and wanted to kiss her. To reassure her that she could rely on him in a way she so obviously couldn't on anyone else in her life.

He leaned in closer.

She didn't back away.

And the doorbell rang, breaking the connection between them.

She pulled back, eyeing him warily before heading to answer. Leaving him to dissect the complicated, protective feelings she aroused.

“Where's my nephew?” a familiar voice bellowed.

Uh-oh.

Uncle Edward was here. Jason didn't know how he'd found him or why he'd shown up now, but it couldn't be good news and he didn't want Lauren greeting the older man alone.

Jason ran to catch up and the three of them converged in the marble entryway.

One look at his uncle and Jason knew something had set him off.

“Hi, Uncle Edward. How'd you get inside?” Jason asked.

“The door was already open, so I let myself in. If she didn't want visitors, she should've locked her door. I always lock mine.”

Jason swallowed hard. The rambling was a sign of his agitation. “Well, I'm surprised to see you here. I'd like you to meet Lauren,” he said, deliberately omitting her last name.

Edward looked her up and down. “She's a
Perkins, isn't that right?” he asked, running a hand through his hair and making it a mess.

“Well yes, and this is her house you barged into,” Jason reminded his uncle, hoping he'd take the hint and be polite.

“It's nice to meet you, Mr. Corwin,” Lauren said, extending her hand.

Edward jumped back as if she were poised to attack. “How could you take a job working for a Perkins?” he asked his nephew.

Jason stiffened, mortified on Lauren's behalf as well as his own. “How did you find out?”

“I was at JR's Plumbing Supply House when you called, that's how! You can't work here. Not without invoking curses and trouble. Curses. They're the cause of all the problems we've had and it's her family's fault.” Edward began to gesture at Lauren, clearly upset.

Jason shot Lauren an apologetic glance. “Let me get him home and settled and I'll be right back, okay?”

She nodded, her eyes wide, a combination of sadness and regret in them.

“Uncle Edward, let me take you home to Clara.” Jason wrapped his arm around the older man.

Edward shook his head. “Clara's gonna put one of her spells on me, too.”

Jason let out a groan and directed his uncle toward his car. Edward had walked here, as he did to most places in town. But right now, Jason needed to get him home as soon as possible.

He dreaded Clara seeing Edward in this state. His uncle had only recently begun to soften toward Clara, but now it seemed he'd reverted to his old fears and behavior.

All because a Perkins and a Corwin were working together. Imagine what would happen if Edward knew they were sleeping together?

L
AUREN FOLLOWED
Jason and Edward Corwin out to Jason's car with Edward mumbling the entire way. It didn't help that the cat was settled on Jason's hood like a king.

“It's another sign, I tell you,” Edward muttered, pointing to the black ornament.

“Is it yours?” Jason asked Lauren.

“In a manner of speaking. He came with the house.”

Jason glanced over his shoulder at her. “Can you get him off?”

Lauren shrugged. She wondered if a cat would come when called. Of course, it didn't matter since she didn't know his name.

“Come on, Cat!”

The feline didn't budge.

What she didn't know about cats could fill volumes. She'd already given the cat diarrhea. What next? “I'm sure he'll jump off when you start the car.”

“Don't want that thing near me any more than I want a dang Perkins near me,” Edward said. “Should have brought Stinky Pete with me, I tell you.”

“Who's Stinky Pete?” she asked Jason, all the while reminding herself not to take a demented man's ravings seriously.

“The pet skunk he uses to keep people away,” Jason said, shooting her a look that clearly said,
Don't ask.

After settling his uncle in the passenger seat, Jason turned back and walked over to Lauren and squeezed her hand. “I'm sorry,” he said, tilting his head toward the car.

She shook her head. “It's not your fault. Go take care of him. He obviously needs you.”

And she needed to forget the sight of Jason leading his uncle to the car, taking charge and caring for the older man. She'd come too close to kissing him moments earlier. Noticing his warm, caring nature wouldn't allow her to keep a safe emotional distance.

Luckily, as soon as Jason started the engine, the cat raised its head—haughtily, in Lauren's opinion—and jumped off the hood, clearly annoyed.

Lauren tried not to laugh. She'd never realized a feline could have such an uppity disposition.

The car backed out of the driveway, slowing
down as Jason opened the window. “I'll be back soon,” he promised.

She nodded.

“Are you sure you can handle the plumber?”

“Of course.” She waved him on his way.

She hadn't even walked up the porch steps when an old, battered pickup pulled into the driveway.

A young guy stepped out of the truck. As he approached, Lauren had the distinct feeling she'd seen him somewhere before but found herself unable to place his face. He was tall and lean, wearing dark jeans and a solid gray T-shirt. He wasn't half bad looking, although she was already spoken for. Lauren stopped short in her tracks, unsure of where that thought had come from.

“Is this the Perkins house?” the man asked as he strode up the walkway.

She nodded. “Can I help you?” She assumed he was the plumber but couldn't be certain.

“I'm looking for Jason Corwin?”

“He was called away but he'll be back soon. Can I help you?”

He nodded and extended his hand. “Brody Pittman. JR Plumbing sent me over.”

Lauren shook his hand, which was roughened from work, and he stared down at her, his eyes boring into hers. Once again she had the feeling
she'd seen him somewhere before. “Do I know you?” she asked.

He looked her over, head to toe, before answering. “Nope. I think I'd remember if we'd met before.”

“You just look familiar,” she murmured.

He glanced over her shoulder. “I must have one of those familiar-looking faces. Ready to get started?” he asked.

“Sure.” She gestured for him to follow her inside. “I woke up and stepped into a flood. I think it's the hot water heater,” she explained.

“It's an old house, so it wouldn't surprise me.”

“Actually I need you to give all the pipes a once-over. I'm planning to sell the house soon and the prospective buyers will be doing an inspection prior to closing. I need to know of any potential issues ahead of time.”

“That shouldn't be a problem.”

“Good.” They'd reached the bedroom. “Flood's in here and the water heater is around the corner.” She pointed down the hall to a closed door on the left.

“Okay. Let me take a look and see what we're dealing with. I'll get back to you before I start any work.”

“Thanks. I'll be in the kitchen if you need me.” She left him and retreated to the kitchen for another cup of coffee.

Half an hour later, Jason returned, looking more tired than he had before. Clearly the episode with his uncle had taken a toll on him.

She barely had time to say hello, when the plumber joined them.

Introductions went quickly and Lauren got to the point. “How bad is it?” she asked the plumber.

“You're going to need a new heater, for starters.” He wiped his dirty hands on a rag. “As for the rest of the house, things are hit and miss. The plumbing's old, no question about that. There have been some recent replacements, but there are a lot of pipes that need replacing, as well.”

Jason nodded. “I figured as much. How long until you get the heater?”

The other man shrugged. “I'm new so I'm not sure. Let me call my boss and see what's in stock, but it's a standard unit, so with a little luck I can pick it up today.”

“Great. Do that and get me an estimate on the rest of the house. We'll go from there.”

The other man shifted from foot to foot. “I need to write down everything, but I gotta tell you, some of it needs to be done ASAP or else you're looking at bigger problems down the road.”

“I understand. Then get me an estimate quickly, Mr. Pittman.”

“It's Brody, and sure thing.” He turned and headed back to work.

“I'm just looking out for your budget and bottom line,” Jason said to Lauren as soon as the plumber had gone.

“I appreciate that.” Lauren smiled. “How's your uncle?” She'd been trying to put his disparaging remarks about her being a Perkins into perspective, but they still bothered her.

Lauren had returned to town telling herself she didn't care what other people thought of her, yet when it came to Jason's family, she realized their opinion of her mattered.

“It's just frustrating.” A muscle twitched in Jason's jaw. “He was doing so well, but when it comes to the curse, he isn't rational. Anything Perkins-related sets him off.” Jason glanced out the window over the kitchen sink, staring into the wooded area beyond.

“I'm sorry.” She stepped up behind him, placing her hand on his shoulder. “We seem to find ourselves saying that a lot.”

He turned and they were close. Nose-to-nose close. “Then let's stop. None of this Corwin Perkins stuff is either one of our fault.”

She shrugged. “I know that, and yet—”

He cut her off, placing his finger over her lips. “Your last name doesn't define you. It never has.”

Unable to help herself, she looped her arms around his neck. “You're still a nice guy, Jason Corwin.” Smiling, she leaned in close for a kiss.

Just one. Because he didn't blame her for her family's sins and because he was kind, compassionate and sexy.

She touched her lips to his. He immediately cinched his arm around her waist, pulling her close and sealing his lips against hers. His tongue swept into her mouth, creating dizzying sensations that had her clenching the fabric of his shirt and kissing him back as if she were starving.

He rocked his hips against hers, teasing her with possibilities as he kissed her thoroughly, deeply, and oh so erotically. Her skin tingled. Her nerve endings were on fire. She never wanted the moment to end.

Yet incredibly, he pulled back, staring into her eyes with his mesmerizing gaze.

“What's the matter?” she asked, her hands still gripping his shirt.

“Don't get me wrong, I could do this all day but you'd only use it against me later on, when we don't get any work done.”

Reality came swarming back fast. “Oh.” She licked her damp lips.

The man had a point.

“But I do need you to remember one thing for after work hours.” An amused smile pulled at his lips.

“What's that?” she asked warily.

“I'm not the one who broke the all-work-no-play rule, sweetheart. And I didn't even have to try.” He placed a warm kiss on her cheek and headed out of the kitchen, back to work.

 

C
LARA LOVED
the women she'd befriended since moving to town. She cherished the loyalty and she needed their support. But since she'd gone from joy and optimism to true concern for her Edward, she wasn't in the mood for Ladies' Night.

Once a month, she, Amber, Gabrielle and sometimes Sharon met at The Wave. Since she'd become pregnant, Gabrielle drank a blend of Clara's favorite tea that the restaurant now stocked and Clara usually joined her, while Amber and Sharon nursed white wine. They shared their joys and their problems and Clara loved having these close female friends in her life.

Ever since Jason had brought Edward home, mumbling and upset, she had been thrown by the change in his personality. She'd thought they'd made progress, yet now at the merest mention of Lauren Perkins working with his nephew, Edward had suddenly regressed. Clara had left him in the
boathouse near the lake, hammering and muttering and basically not dealing with the world, including her.

She'd called his psychiatrist, and Dr. Shelby said he'd fit Edward in tomorrow. In the meantime, Mike promised to look in on Edward, while Clara headed to The Wave.

Thanks to the townspeople pitching in with donations of money and time, The Wave had been rebuilt in the year since Beth Perkins had set the place on fire. The restaurant was once again a hub in the community where people gathered at night and met up for lunch during the day.

The aqua-blue of The Wave's logo welcomed Clara as she stepped inside and looked for her friends. She found them already seated and laughing around a table in the rear.

“Hello, ladies,” Clara said as she hung her jacket on the back of her chair and settled in.

“Clara, we're so glad you could make it,” Amber said. “I know you'd rather be home with Edward, but it'll do you good to get out.” She placed her hand over Clara's. “How is he?”

“Puttering out back.” She knew that statement would explain it all.

Gabrielle shook her head. “I'm so sorry.”

“I know. Let's talk about other things tonight. You
cut your hair again!” Clara said, taking in Gabrielle's angled bob. “I always loved that look on you.”

“Thanks. I had it cut this morning. I used to keep it this way because it was in style. Now it's just easier because I'm so tired all the time,” she admitted, flushing as she spoke.

Clara smiled. “You fought hard for this pregnancy, so enjoy every moment.”

“I can't wait to be Aunt Amber!” Amber said.

Gabrielle leaned her elbows on the table. “How about becoming mommy? I need someone to go through this with and the baby will need a playmate! You, too, Sharon.”

Clara studied Amber and Sharon intently, sensing their answers before they replied.

“What's that knowing look?” Amber asked, her focus on Clara.

Folding her hands in her lap, Clara replied, “I have my feelings, that's all.”

Sharon, cheeks pink, asked, “Care to share them?”

Clara was happy to oblige. “You'll be giving Gabrielle's daughter a playmate soon,” she said, pointing to Sharon. “And you, not for a while.” Clara inclined her head toward Amber.

Clara didn't know if she had second sight or just the deep intuition that ran in her family, but Sharon had a glow about her that told Clara the other
woman would be pregnant soon, while Amber was too busy enjoying her new husband, her move east from Vegas and her recent job as a concierge in a hotel chain new to downtown Boston.

“Am I right?” Clara asked.

Both women glanced away, neither eager to reveal their personal feelings.

Clara merely smiled. “Time will tell,” she mused.

“Drinks on the house,” the waitress said, stopping by with a tray full of their usual orders. They'd been having these Ladies' Nights for the past four months and their choices were pretty standard.

“Thank Seth and George for us,” Gabrielle said, referring to the father and son owners.

“Yes, and also remind them that if they don't stop doing this soon, they won't have any profits,” Amber said in full business mode.

But they all knew that after nearly losing their business, George and Seth Saybrook were doing all they could to repay people for their kindness during the rebuilding.

“Will do,” the brunette said, laughing. “Let me know if you need anything else.”