Shattered Dreams (22 page)

Crystal folded her arms over her chest and turned her head. She couldn’t look at him any longer because she couldn’t lose what little resolve she had left. The begging quality in his tone was hard enough to ignore. But she couldn’t let the sincerity she glimpsed in that pleading gaze sway her. Jim O’Malley had the power to hurt her, and she would never travel down that road again.

Her back straightened while her jaw tightened. “Night’s over, hotshot. It’s time to leave.”

Praying he’d do as she asked, her attention went to wiping up the spilled coffee.

“Shit!” Jimbo said under his breath. “Definitely not gonna be easy.”

She felt his gaze as she rinsed out the dishcloth.

Finally, Jimbo bent to tug on his boots. Then he straightened. “This isn’t over.”

“Yes, it is.”

“I can out-stubborn you any day, darlin’.” Tucking in his shirt, he added, “What’s more, I like a good challenge.”

Crystal shrugged, ignoring the little flutter of excitement his threat generated. “You can let yourself out.” On her way to her home office, she said over her shoulder, “I have work to do.”

Once behind the barrier, she leaned against the cool wood, took deep breaths, and finally heaved a sigh of relief when the condo’s front door slammed shut.

Chapter 27

Claire stood on Jason’s veranda. From the street, his house seemed similar to all the others in the older, expensive section of Boca Raton. Upon closer inspection, the slightly shabby house appeared a little out of place among the well-maintained homes. Looking around, she noticed signs of flaking paint and wood rot.

She hadn’t pictured the attorney living in such a run-down place, even if the neighborhood reeked of money—old money—the kind that had been in families for generations and kept growing because of compounding interest rather than earnings.

Shrugging, she rang the bell. Sex with Jason had no bearing on where he lived. Last night, his only stipulation had been to be on dry land, and this house satisfied that requirement.

His startled expression after opening the door told her she was the last person on earth he expected to find on his doorstep.

“Claire,” he murmured. “This is a surprise.”

“Somehow, I figured that out on my own.” She grinned.

God, he was gorgeous, she thought, watching his expression turn from astonishment into a blank slate. Her eyes moved over that great body, one the old shorts and worn T-shirt he was wearing did little to hide. A thin patina of perspiration coated his arms and legs. Several drops beaded on his forehead and sweat was visible on his clothes, as if he’d been working out.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

“Sure.” He opened the door wider and stepped aside. “But I should warn you. Enter at your own peril. Visitors are usually put to work on weekends.”

“Sounds intriguing.” Curious, she moved past him and glanced around.

“You may not think so after laying tile for a few hours.” He turned and blazed a path, pushing building supplies out of the way as he headed toward the back of the house. “Coffee’s still hot. Want some?”

“Um-hmm. I could use a cup.”

Following him, she noticed a living room that looked as ratty as the rest of the place. The faded wallpaper had to be thirty years old, and the orange shag carpet was worn, showing bare spots in places.

“It’s not much now, but I have plans.”

At the sound of his voice, she looked over. He’d halted his progress and was watching her. From his expression and tone, she had no doubt he’d observed her silent scrutiny as she stepped cautiously through the rubble.

“Okay,” she said evenly, quickly schooling her face not to show her thoughts, though inside her mind was screaming.

She didn’t want to think about that ugly avocado-green sectional. Did they even make fake leather anymore? This room had to be the most god-awful space she’d ever seen.

“Hardwood’s under there. I just haven’t had a chance to pull up the rug. I’ve been working upstairs.”

She smiled at his defensiveness and tried to think of something nice to say. Since nothing came to mind, she stayed silent.

Then they stepped into the dining room.

“Oh my God!” she whispered, gawking at the difference between the two rooms.

Stripped wallpaper hadn’t been replaced over a bare, patched wall, but Jason had obviously pulled the carpet up and had refinished the floor. The wood gleamed. But that wasn’t what caught her eye.

She spied the antique table and chairs with such intricate carvings, the sight took her breath away. The table wasn’t a department store knockoff, and neither were the throne-like chairs.

Glancing around, she could envision what this room would look like once it was finished. Didn’t matter what went on the walls. The furniture and floor were the centerpieces, and everything else was merely backdrop. That Jason Roberts had the vision to see this intrigued her.

“Hmm, the contrast is interesting. Is this same wood under the carpet in there?” The tilt of her head indicated the living room.

Jason nodded. “Heart of pine. Impervious to rot and insects. But will burn like tinder if it ever catches fire. This place was built at the beginning of the twentieth century, before the supply was decimated.”

He turned the corner and added, “I know it’s ugly, but I’ve only begun. I expected to be further along, but I’ve been too busy up until a few weeks ago.”

“How long have you been working on it?”

“Nine months. I bought it right after Elise and I split.”

“Let me guess. She lives in Boca Gardens.” An exclusive gated community with million-dollar homes.

“Close.” He grinned, leading her into the kitchen.

As always, that smile had an effect. Ignoring it, she made note of another hideous room filled with garish greens, oranges, and browns, colors of the late seventies.

Claire rolled her eyes and sighed. “You know the phone book’s full of contractors who’ll do amazing things in months.”

His head went from side to side in slow motion as he walked toward her, holding out a cup of hot coffee. “This is mine and will be refurbished with my hands. The physical labor’s relaxing and gives me something to do in the evenings when the girls aren’t here.”

“I see.” She took the offered brew, added cream, and brought the cup to her lips, hiding her smile behind it.

“What?”

“Nothing.” She worked to wipe the amusement from her face, which wasn’t easy since she was staring into laughing blue eyes.

“I’ll have you know this house is a one of a kind.” He flashed a satisfied grin. “I got it for a song. The widow who owned it lived here for most of her adult life. Said I reminded her of her son who died years ago, and she wanted it to go to someone who would appreciate it. I’m not about to let her down. I’ve decided I like doing the repairs on my own.”

“I believe you.”

“I get the feeling you hate my house.” He started walking again, causing her to take several steps back. “But it doesn’t matter.”

His forward momentum stopped when the small of her back hit the counter and she couldn’t retreat any further. Snaring her gaze, he took her cup and placed it on the thirty-year-old laminated orange counter and stepped closer. Taking each of her arms, he wrapped first one and then the other around his shoulders.

“Did you know there’s heart of pine under that orange-and-brown linoleum?”

His smile was so engaging that she couldn’t help but grin in response. She shook her head to break the spell his stare generated while air hung up in her throat.

He nuzzled her neck as he murmured, “And you haven’t seen the rooms I’ve finished.”

“I’m sure I’ll find them fascinating,” she replied breathlessly as her heartbeat quickened. She closed her eyes, enjoying the pleasant sensation that mouth elicited. Kissing Jason was becoming habit-forming.

“I’m sure you will,” he said before his lips found hers.

Disappointment filled her when he backed away and snatched her hand. “Grab your coffee. I’ll give you a tour. Then I’m putting you to work.”

Claire followed as one question plagued her.

Who was seducing whom?

Chapter 28

“I started up here because it’s where we live.” Jason said as they climbed the stairs. “I converted two of the bedrooms into a family room.”

He halted outside Amelia’s room and took in the airy space that his daughter’s input and interests inspired.

Claire laughed and stepped inside. “Nice room. I like the jungle theme.”

“Amelia’s idea. She has a thing for frogs and animals of the rain forest.”

“I gather your kids are with their mother?” She walked up to the bureau and glanced over her shoulder.

He nodded.

“They’re beautiful girls.”

His eyebrows drew up in question.

She smiled and indicated the picture in front of her. “I couldn’t help noticing.” Looking around the space, she took her time. “You did a great job with this room.”

“I had help. Both girls had to paint and design their space.”

“Beauty and talent. Just like their dad.”

“They keep me hopping.” Shrugging, he ignored the way her praise made him want to beat his chest and brag some more. “Chloe’s room is across the hall.”

She followed. “You’re lucky to have kids. They seem like terrific girls.”

“Chloe thinks she’s a princess in disguise,” he explained, watching Claire step into Chloe’s castle. “My youngest daughter’s thing is fairy tales.”

Jason spent a few minutes observing her investigate the space before asking, “How about you? Would you like a few?” When her brows furrowed, he added, “Kids.”

“My, we’re getting personal.” Her teasing grin told him she didn’t mind.

“I’m curious. It’s the attorney in me.” When she didn’t reply right away, he prodded. “Well? Was the question too personal?”

“Give me a minute,” she said with a quick laugh. “I’m thinking.”

“Sure. I know it’s a tough question, so take all the time you need.” Standing near the door, he indicated for her to follow him. “I’ll finish the tour while you’re thinking.”

“Okay, you’ve made your point.” She frowned. “I used to blame Carl because of his . . . well . . . you know, for not having any. But now, even if I had a different husband, I’m not sure I’m ready to be a parent. I may never be.”

“No one’s ever ready. You just do the best you can.”

“You seem to be handling parenthood okay.”

“You wouldn’t say that if you spent any amount of time around us. There’s always chaos when they’re here. Controlled chaos, but it’s still chaos.”

“Somehow I can’t picture that. You seem too organized, especially after seeing this room.”

By this point, they’d stepped into the open, pleasant space he’d completed after moving into the monstrosity of a house. The finished product of his efforts in here had kept him on course, demonstrating in bold contrasts the before and after. His plan had been to create an area where he and his girls could hang out and feel comfortable, a home theater and game room in one.

The awe in her voice pleased him. He found he liked the idea of impressing her with his hard work. “Let’s just say I adjust.”

“So, tell me more about them.”

“You mean their rooms don’t say it all?”

“They give me a good idea. But I want to know more.”

“They’re as different as night and day. Chloe is my romantic. Very fastidious and all girl. She loves reading fairy tales, playing dress-up, and playing with dolls. Amelia, on the other hand, hates what she terms as girly-girl things. She’s into sports, with baseball and football being her favorites. Unlike Chloe, Amelia couldn’t care less if her face is dirty. She still balks at taking showers. I’m not sure which one was left on the doorstep.”

“They make parenthood sound like a lot of fun.”

“They’re my life.”

“When do I get to meet them?”

Jason hadn’t been expecting the question, and he couldn’t stop his surprise from bleeding into his expression.

“That is, if you don’t mind.”

“Are you sure you want to?” he teased. “Chaos isn’t pretty.”

“They can’t be that bad. After all, they’re related to you.”

“I rest my case,” he said, shaking his head. “That alone tells you everything, but I’m sure you’ll meet them sooner than later.”

The few minutes Claire peered into corners left him with one conclusion. She definitely belonged in the room.

She looked at him expectantly. “Now what?”

Jason smiled and held out his hand. “Tour’s over. Now it’s time to work.”

“Then lead on,” she replied, linking fingers with his.

Jason led her toward the master bath he’d been working on, ignoring thoughts of having to pass through his bedroom and the inviting four-poster bed along the way.

Don’t even go there, Roberts, he mentally commanded.

He was putting her to work. That’s why she was still here.

Yeah, right
, he silently responded.

Kissing Claire again had been a big mistake. He could still taste her. Every now and then he’d get a whiff of her delicate perfume, and it was all he could do to keep from attacking her. The memory of her heated gaze moving over his body when he’d opened the door earlier kept infiltrating his thoughts, belying the notion that work was the only reason he let her stay.

When they entered the bedroom, Claire stopped suddenly, pulling out of his grasp.

“Wow. Saving the best for last, I see.”

Jason watched her do a three sixty, taking in everything as she went. “Like it?” he asked.

He glanced around, trying to view his space through feminine eyes. The navy and sage colors spoke to him because they had a masculine feel, but he wasn’t sure she’d find them as appealing.

Admiration showed in her eyes, and he pulled himself up a little taller.

“Like it? I love it. Who knew a lawyer could have such talent for putting colors together?” She stepped over to the bed and fingered the spread. “The rich hues suit the space, but aren’t overpowering.”

Then she moved to one of the posts and touched it lovingly. “I’ve never seen more beautifully carved wood, except maybe your dining room table and chairs.” She turned back to him with a questioning gaze. “Where on earth did you get dark wood like this in South Florida?”