Since he’d moved back here, his life had become stagnant, but Lauren’s return had given him new purpose and a new goal-winning the Perkins job. He’d even cleared his schedule in anticipation of working at Lauren’s house, but she hadn’t called.
Three days and not a word, although he knew she’d been in touch with Mark and Greg, and they’d both turned her down. He was tempted to stop by the house later today and check on her, but she’d been so resistant to them working together, he thought it would go better if she came to him.
To kill time, he turned to working on his own living space. He hadn’t had a chance to put his mark on the place yet, so he’d spent the past few days priming the walls in the lower section of the loft so he could paint over the gray his uncle had chosen. The sun didn’t shine in the windows until late in the afternoon and he needed a brighter color to perk up the place.
His sisters, Ruthie and Allison, lived close to each other in New York with their husbands and kids and had opened up an interior design business together. They’d both offered their advice, suggesting navy or hunter-green walls with white trim and had sent him photos of offices in their portfolio to back up their advice. Since this was the first permanent place Jason had lived in, as opposed to hotel rooms and short-term rentals, he’d chosen stark white instead. Like snow. He’d be surrounded by proof he was no longer hiding from his past. So here he was, standing on a ladder painting his new home, and waiting for a girl to call.
A few more broad strokes of the brush and he decided to take a break.
He stepped down, but instead of the floor, his foot hit something soft. Jason jumped back as Fred the basset hound yelped, trying to make his escape. But as slow as Fred moved, Jason tripped on the dog. He lost his balance and reached for the ladder to stop his fall, causing the paint tray to topple to the floor, splattering him with white paint along the way.
He landed on his ass, beside Fred, who looked up at him with those big, sad eyes. “Yeah, I know. You’re sorry.”
Jason pushed himself to a standing position and glanced at his paint-splattered shirt. “Another one bites the dust,” he muttered, and stripped off the gray tee. He was going to have to do laundry soon or else he’d have to go shopping. Neither prospect held much appeal.
He was headed to the loft stairs so he could get a clean shirt when the doorbell rang. “Come on in,” he called, assuming his father or uncle had stopped by.
Lauren walked in instead.
“Hi.” She strode in with purpose, wearing those high black boots he’d noticed the first night they’d met, dark jeans and a black-and-white-striped shirt with some funky vest on top. The neckline of the shirt was rounded and covered her assets. So did the vest. But he could still see the slight swell and curve of her breasts, enough for him to be distracted by the sight.
And the way she was staring at him, she was equally off-kilter.
“What can I do for you?” he asked.
“I was hoping we could talk.”
He nodded. “I’m glad you’re here. Let me go upstairs and grab a shirt.”
He hoped she didn’t bolt before he got back.
CHAPTER FIVE
JASON DISAPPEARED up the loft stairs, leaving Lauren with one thought. Thank God he’d gone to put on a shirt, because his bare chest was a distraction she didn’t need or want. She’d taken in his muscled forearms and the dark sprinkling of hair that tapered into the waistband of his jeans and her mouth had grown dry. She knew what lay below those jeans.
Now she had a chance to shore up her defenses. Business first. Last. Only.
She glanced around the room, noticing the fallen ladder, paint tray and a sullen-looking dog with floppy ears who lay beside both. “Hey there, what’s your name?” she asked as she knelt down beside him and patted his head.
The telephone on Jason’s desk rang and the answering machine picked up on the second ring. “Corwin Contractors, leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible,” Jason’s deep voice said, followed by a long beep.
“Hey, it’s Greg. I can’t thank you enough for trading me the Dunning house for turning down the Perkins job.”
Lauren heard her last name and rose to her feet, paying close attention to the rest of the message.
“I’m hoping to bag some of the landmark restorations due around here and this job ought to help. I owe you one.” He paused and Lauren thought he’d hang up, but there was more. “Good luck with your lady,” he added before disconnecting the call.
Jason had sabotaged her opportunity to hire Greg Charlton, Lauren thought, and her blood pressure spiked. She now had no doubt he’d done the same thing with Mark Miller. No wonder both men had been unable to take on her small project.
Of all the nerve.
Footsteps sounded as Jason came down the stairs.
He’d pulled on a long-sleeved navy sweatshirt, but his feet were bare, which she found ridiculously sexy.
He hit the bottom step and came to a halt. “I take it you heard that?” He pointed to the answering machine on the desk.
“Rhetorical question. I’m not deaf.” She clasped her hands in front of her, squeezing them tight, feeling the blood flow nearly stop.
She took one look at his handsome face, and the words just toppled off her tongue. “Just tell me why. Why do you want to work beside me so badly? Ten years ago you left without so much as a word, and now after one night you’re manipulating people to get this job?” She whirled away, frustrated and embarrassed she’d admitted so much.
He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her back against his chest until his body heated her from the outside in. She struggled not to melt back into him and enjoy the sensations, but she sensed a losing battle. Just as she’d known it would be.
“How?” Jason asked her.
“How what?”
“How did you expect me to get in touch with you?” he asked, his breath warm in her ear. “Your grandmother found out about us, packed you up and sent you away. One day you were just gone. It wasn’t like you left a forwarding address.”
“How did you find out I was gone?” Lauren asked.
“Your grandmother came by and took great pleasure in letting me know I’d never see you again.”
Lauren’s stomach cramped at that. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
He shrugged, leaning his chin against her head. “It’s not your fault. Now answer my question. How did you expect me to find you?”
She turned. “From the letters I wrote you…” Her voice trailed off as she caught the stunned expression on his face. “You didn’t get any letters, did you?”
He shook his head, the regret in his expression as obvious as the pain she’d been through all those years ago.
“I’d lay odds my grandmother intercepted your mail at the post office.” Her reach had been that far, her deviousness that deep. Lauren drew a calming breath. “It doesn’t matter now anyway.”
Even if he’d received her letters, she had no way of knowing whether he’d have waited for her. If his feelings had been as serious as hers.
She was wrong, Jason thought. It mattered. He just didn’t know how much. What would he have done differently if he’d known where to find her? If he’d known she still wanted him and he hadn’t been just a brief summer fling she’d forgotten about as soon as she’d been sent home?
He shook his head at the unanswered questions, knowing too well how futile it was to try to change the past.
He was better off focusing on the future. “If that’s true, if it doesn’t matter, then you should have no problem hiring me for your construction project.” He brushed her hair off her shoulder, sliding his fingers down the long strands.