Lucky Break (3 page)

“Next thing you'll be telling me is that the woman I'll meet will be wearing a red mask.”

Clara tapped the cards to even them out. “You said it, I didn't.”

He didn't want to insult her so he remained silent, but the facts remained. If a man's last name was Corwin, it wasn't easy getting laid in Jason's hometown, never mind finding someone to settle down with.

He bent to pick up his extra equipment and tossed the items into his tool chest.

“You weren't always so cynical,” Clara said.

Jason raised an eyebrow. “How can you be so sure?” Although he liked and respected her, he couldn't help challenging her so-called intuition. And he knew from previous exchanges, she enjoyed a challenge.

Clara merely shook her head. “I just know you were different before. Just like you'll be different after.”

He knew he'd regret asking, but he did anyway. “After what?”

“After
she
rocks your world.”

 

D
ESPITE THE COOL FALL
temperatures, Lauren drove back to her grandmother's house from the prison with the convertible top down. After being in the small room with her sister, she needed the fresh air, open spaces and wind blowing on her face.

As she always did after one of these visits, she searched for something to focus on that didn't involve her sister, grandmother, the jail, or the damn Corwin Curse. Paris and her upcoming show consumed her thoughts for the better part of an hour until she came to the outskirts of town and saw the sign for the fall festival.

An annual event, the masquerade ball was always held in time for Halloween. The party sounded like fun. She remembered hearing about the festival from Jason. Back then he'd wished she could stick around long enough to go with him. Well, it looked like she was going to get her chance. Years too late. And she wouldn't exactly be attending
with
him.

But he might be there, a small voice in her head whispered. She'd heard he was back in town from her one friend here. Lauren and Sharon Merchant, now Sharon Stern, wife of the current mayor of Perkins, had met during Lauren's summer visits to her grandmother's, and they'd kept in touch over the years.

Sharon was the only person she'd confided in
about her relationship with Jason Corwin. She hadn't trusted her sister, knowing Beth would run off to tell their grandmother that Lauren was consorting with the enemy. Sharon had been understanding then and she'd been understanding years later. Lauren's grandmother and sister had blackmailed Sharon in order to try to prevent her husband, Richard, from becoming mayor, so Lauren considered herself lucky her friend didn't extend a grudge toward Lauren by default.

Sharon would be there tonight and Lauren could surprise her by showing up. Behind a mask, of course. She'd rather observe without outing herself. The executor of her grandmother's will told her the townspeople wouldn't welcome her with open arms. Lauren could handle their disdain with her head held high.
She
hadn't hurt anyone and she didn't approve of her family's behavior. Still, remaining anonymous while she took the temperature of the town, so to speak, appealed to her.

Especially if she ran into Jason. Her stomach curled deliciously and with nervous anticipation at the thought of seeing him again. Ten years was a long time and he probably wouldn't recognize her behind a mask. She remembered him telling her no self-respecting man would wear a mask, so she'd
have the opportunity to watch and observe him with anonymity.

Yes, she thought, a night out was exactly what she needed to put the depressing prison visit behind her.

Once back at the house, she searched through an old trunk in her grandmother's attic, picking through feathers, lace and masks. She discarded the orange mask for obvious reasons and bypassed the boring blue one in search of the perfect color.

Suddenly, she found what she was looking for. The mask that called to her. The boldest color. The one destined to make an impact.

A red mask to match her red car.

J
ASON MILLED
around the festival grounds, a stretch of farmland that had been donated to the town and dedicated as a park. Although this was an event he'd enjoyed as a kid, tonight he was uncharacteristically on edge and Clara's prediction was to blame.

Not that he believed in tarot readings.

Yet, as he smiled at people without stopping to make conversation, the uneasy feeling remained. The fact that most wore masks didn't help. Nor did the sheer volume of people. Almost the entire town had turned out for the evening.

“Jason, no mask? I'm disappointed.” Gabrielle, his cousin Derek's wife, zeroed in on him, pink feathers covering her face.

If her long chestnut hair wasn't a giveaway to her identity, her trademark stiletto heels were. His cousin was one lucky son of a bitch, but he deserved good fortune. Derek had suffered plenty
before finally reclaiming his high school sweetheart and the love and family he was meant to have. As the oldest of the Corwin cousins, Derek had set a stoic example for Jason and Mike to follow. Each had held out on relationships for a long time before succumbing. As for Mike, despite a rocky start, he and his wife Amber seemed to be going strong.

Jason, on the other hand, was finished with women for anything but sex—and that was something he hadn't had in too damn long. Five months to be exact. But now he was open to the possibility. He wasn't desperate, never had been, and not even a self-imposed dry spell would change that. He just knew better than to expect to find someone from around here. Predictions be damned, he was a Corwin and therefore a realist.

“Jason?” Gabrielle repeated. “I asked you what happened to your mask?”

He refocused his attention on his cousin's wife. “No self-respecting man would wear one of those things.”

“He's got a point,” Derek said, joining them. He wasn't sporting a mask, either.

“You two are just no fun.” Gabrielle let out a long-suffering sigh and placed her hand over her rounded stomach.

“What's wrong? Are you okay?” Derek asked, covering her hand with his.

“I breathed loudly,” she said, exasperated. “I didn't moan in pain!”

Jason laughed at his cousin's reaction.

Ever since their announcement of Gabrielle's pregnancy, Derek had been wired. Jason didn't blame him. Their first try had ended in miscarriage and the damn Corwin Curse hung over their heads.

Still, Jason couldn't help but lighten the mood. “Derek, it's going to be a long nine months if you keep this up.”

“Only five more to go,” he said, before glancing at his wife. “I'm sorry, but—”

She shook her head. “Don't apologize. I understand. I just wish you'd relax and enjoy this as much as I am. The doctor swore the last time was a fluke, and I'm determined to believe him.”

Derek wrapped his arm around her waist and kissed her on the lips.

Jason tried not to roll his eyes. It was time he made himself scarce. “Excuse me. I think I'm going to refill my beer. This one's getting warm.” Leaving his cousin alone with his wife, he turned and started across the field.

Catching sight of his father, Thomas, Jason
headed his way. “Hi, Dad.” Another Corwin man without a mask.

“I'm so glad you decided to join the party,” Thomas said.

“I could say the same to you.” Jason eyed his father warily.

Wearing dark pressed chinos and a white buttoned shirt, he was perfectly dressed. Typical Thomas, showing the outside world all was well, no matter what turmoil was going on inside. “Is Uncle Edward here?” Jason asked.

“He's supposed to be.” Thomas glanced over his son's shoulder. “I haven't seen him yet.”

“He's coming with Clara, isn't he? That's who you're looking around for.”

Thomas had been attracted to Clara from the moment they'd met, and thanks to Corwin history, Jason was worried his father would somehow end up with his uncle Edward's woman.

Thomas shook his head. “No. I promised I'd steer clear and let those two make their way back to each other,” he said, sounding sincere.

“Or not?” Jason guessed. “Come on, Dad. Are you waiting for Uncle Edward to blow it so you can step in and sweep Clara off her feet?”

“No. That would be too close to history repeating itself.”

“You said you never took Mom away from Uncle Edward. She chose you.” He watched his father carefully.

Thomas nodded. “It's true. But your uncle's psychological problems obviously go way back. He blamed me, blamed the curse. His life was a mess. So whatever happens between your uncle and Clara begins and ends with them. I'm out of it.” He raised both hands and took a step back.

Jason nodded, satisfied his father wouldn't make a move on Clara. The older Corwin men had just begun to repair their fractured relationship. The slightest look in Clara's direction could conceivably send Edward over the edge. “I'm proud of you, Dad. Putting Uncle Edward's needs before your own.”

Thomas shook his head. “You're mistaken. I'm being selfish. I need my brother, too. We both missed out on too much.”

Jason gave his father a brief hug. “The Corwins are making progress,” he said, forcing a laugh.

“Oh! There's Hank. I think I'll go hang with my other brother,” he said. “You go find someone your own age.” Thomas slapped Jason on the back and strode away.

Chuckling at his father, Jason headed for the beer tent, not surprised to find a line ahead of him since all beverages were being served in the same
place. Settling in to wait, he leaned against the stacked bales of hay and glanced around.

That's when he saw her.

She captured his attention immediately and not just because she was wearing a red mask, though he had to admit Clara's tarot reading had predisposed him toward noticing her.

This woman would have rocked his world anyway.

Rocked his world.

Not his usual way with words. They were Clara's. But they were true.

She made her way closer and he couldn't tear his gaze off her long, lean legs encased in hip-hugging, slimming black denim, black suede boots, and a black long-sleeved shirt. Her long, beautiful hair, light brown with blond streaks, hung down to the middle of her back, while breezy bangs fluttered over her forehead. But it was her red mask that stood out, covering most of her face, curving seductively lower on one side. She'd wrapped a matching red scarf around her neck.

As she walked toward him in the moonlight, a strange sense of déjà vu enveloped him but he couldn't say why. The band played “That Old Black Magic,” winding a seductive spell around him—if he believed in such things.

But even as he told himself he didn't, he was drawn to her.

Her gaze never left his as she came up behind him. She looked him over and he did the same to her. Silky hair draped her shoulders, and though the mask covered her face, her matching lipstick drew his attention to her red mouth. She ran her tongue over her lips in a clearly unconscious gesture and every rational thought fled his brain.

“Is this the line for hot cider?” she asked through those lush lips, full, ripe and begging for him to taste.

That voice, also familiar, nudged at the back of his mind even as his thoughts were already churning with the unbelievable notion that Clara's prediction had come true. And he couldn't do more than nod in response.

“What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?” she asked in a teasing tone.

A wry smile pulled at his lips. “You wouldn't believe me if I told you.”

She raised her eyebrows warily over the top of the mask. “Try me.”

He shrugged. Why not? “This is going to sound corny as hell but a fortune-teller told me I was going to meet you tonight.”

She tilted her head back and laughed, a full,
throaty sound that knotted his stomach and sent desire rushing through his body at breakneck speed. No woman before had ever made such an impact.

Only one had come close and he'd been too young to appreciate her.

“Tell me about that fortune-teller,” she urged.

He shook his head. “I'd rather not.”

She sidled up to him. “Then tell me about you.” Her green eyes sparkled with interest.

“I'm just a local.” He eyed her curiously, still wondering why that déjà-vu feeling hadn't subsided.

“You're not
just
anything,” she assured him flirtatiously.

That's when he knew.

He immediately flashed back to their first meeting. “I'm just a skier,” he'd said in an attempt at false modesty. He'd wanted her to appreciate him, not the medals he'd won.

“You're not
just
anything,” she'd said, those inquisitive yet knowing eyes boring into his.

The connection had been made, their bond solid from that moment on.

Jason swallowed hard and studied her now, attempting to see beyond the mask she wore to the intervening years they'd been apart. The same green eyes, those lips he'd kissed, the body he'd known as well as his own.

Blood rushed from his head to other demanding body parts as reality hit him. The woman behind the mask was Lauren Perkins and she apparently had no intention of admitting it.

Jason was curious as well as intrigued. She certainly had to recognize him.

Always up for a challenge, he decided to play along and pretend they were indeed strangers. “I appreciate the compliment,” he said, stepping closer, invading her personal space. “Despite the fact that you probably think the fortune-teller story is a corny pickup line.”

She grinned. “It's not just a corny line, it's the worst I've ever heard.”

A light burst of cold wind whipped around them and he inhaled her warm, seductive scent, increasing his interest as well as his desire.

He wondered what she wanted. And when she'd reveal herself.

“What if I told you I can do better?” he asked, still playing along.

“I'd tell you to go for it.” Lauren barely recognized her own deep, husky voice.

She'd made her way over here on trembling legs, determined to check him out up close. Foolishly believing she could handle him. She'd thought that whatever impact he'd had on her in the
past would have died. She'd been wrong. The man he'd become packed more of a punch than the boy he'd been. He blew her away and she needed time to process her reaction. Flirting with him was fun and safe behind the anonymity of the mask.

“So what's a gorgeous woman like you doing at this small-town festival?” he asked as they moved up in the line.

She swallowed hard. “I'm just passing through,” she said, keeping her explanation deliberately vague.

“Lucky me.” The words rumbled from deep inside his chest, reaching down to her soul.

They'd made out, they'd kissed, and he'd taken her virginity. He'd been her first and she'd never forgotten him, not even when she'd tried to convince herself she had. She'd also never forgotten the pain of coming back here and finding him gone.

He extended his hand just as the band switched to Cher's “Dark Lady.” “Dance with me.”

He didn't ask.

He commanded, in a gruff tone that had seduction written all over it and had her experiencing the same tremors of excitement and anticipation she'd felt when she used to sneak from her grandmother's house to meet him late at night.

And he spoke with the certainty she remem
bered when he talked about heading to Vail to show his skills to Bud Keene, his dream coach. Jason Corwin was a man who went after what he wanted with blind determination.

He held his hand out and waited.

It was one dance, she thought, and a chance to have his arms around her again.

She placed her hand in his.

He led her to the makeshift dance floor in the center of the field and swept her into his arms, gliding rhythmically to the soulful beat of the music.

His fingers intertwined with hers and his hard body did crazy things to her insides as he pulled her against his chest. Warmth seeped through her, heightening her senses. She tried to keep her emotions in the past and concentrate on the delicious sensations he created inside her.

Couples moved around them in a blurry haze but he was all she could see. And feel. They might as well have been in a world of their own. This spiraling need and sense of euphoria had been missing from her life. She'd come alive again, the yearning for him overwhelming.

The day she'd discovered Jason was gone, she'd sworn she'd never fall under any man's spell. She ran through life at breakneck speed, never slowing down long enough to get to know anyone—man or
woman—well, and she liked it that way. She didn't need a shrink to tell her why. What was the point of letting another human being in when all they'd do was find her lacking the way her family had, or leave her behind when something more important beckoned. Men came and went from her life when she had time for sex or a short relationship.