Third Time Lucky

by Jayce Carter

Finn’s eyebrow lifted, but he didn’t move.

  Jasmine took her phone from her pocket and hit the contact she’d put in for her landlord. She knew he’d been gone, but he should be back soon. If he couldn’t help, he’d send someone over, at least. The ringing started, then got louder.

  Louder?

  Finn reached into his own pocket and lifted his ringing phone, then answered it. “Like I said, fate has a funny sense of humor.”

  Finn is my landlord?

  She hung up the phone, her gaze hard. “Yeah, just hilarious,” she muttered.

  This was a complication she did not need.

  * * * *

  Finn couldn’t settle. After pacing inside for a while, he’d headed to his shop to work on the station wagon someone had brought in just before his vacation. It looked as though a few of his employees had started on it, but work always settled him. Plus, being away from the house was a bonus.

  Jasmine is back.

  The thought kept coming back to him, like something he couldn’t shake no matter how many times he tried.

  Of all the people he could have rented to, it had to be her?

  He hadn’t made a lot of enemies in his life, so what were the odds that the only person he’d rather not see was the one who now lived in his backyard?

  He tried to think about how that could work. Would he see her dates coming in and out? It seemed she’d divorced the bastard who had actually managed to tie her down in a commitment, but he’d never figured her to be celibate.

  No, not Jasmine. She’d always loved people, loved to get herself lost in a sea of them, to talk to strangers just to avoid silence.

  He dragged his arm across his forehead to wipe away the sweat.

  “You know, maybe this isn’t such a disaster,” Gretchen, his sister, said. She sat in his rolling office chair, her feet up on the counter.

  “Of course it is.”

  “Why? You’ve had years to get over her. It isn’t as if you’re going to fall for that a third time, right?”

  He opened his mouth to say of course not, that he wasn’t a masochist or an idiot, but then he recalled how the sunlight had caught her red hair.

  Fuck. It had already started, that tiny seed that grew into something so much larger and got him every damned time.

  He squared his shoulders and shook his head. “No. I’ve been down that road before, and I know where it leads. Her and me, we’re fire and gasoline. We shouldn’t mix because it always ends badly.”

  Gretchen looked over at him, her eyebrow lifted. “That sounds a lot more like someone convincing himself, you know.”

  “What do you want me to say? I didn’t ask for her to come back, for her to be living in my backyard.” He jammed a finger in the direction of his house as if making the point clearer. “I can’t kick her out, and even if I could, I doubt she’d find another place to live, not with her credit.”

  “And so you’re letting her stay out of the goodness of your heart?” Gretchen snorted. “I’ve seen this show twice before, but watching you go all moon-eyed over her never really gets old.”

  “You’re my sister. You’re supposed to be on my side.”

  “I am, Finn, always. But you’re thirty-two and you haven’t had a single other real relationship.”

  “Not all of us wanted to go the whole white picket fence and two-point-five kids.”

  “If you were an eternal bachelor, that would be one thing, but instead you’re just waiting.”

  “Waiting for what?”

  Gretchen cast her gaze the same way Finn had pointed. “I guess we’ll see.”

  Finn turned his back on her, retuning his attention to the car.

  The idea that he was waiting for Jasmine was insane, and even if it were true—and it sure as hell wasn’t—it only made him angrier that he’d wasted so much of his life on a woman who didn’t really want him.

  So no matter what, he would not fall into her grasp again.

  He’d learned his lesson.

  Twice.

  * * * *

  “No other options?” Jasmine gripped the phone as she heard what she’d feared. “I don’t need much. I’ll take a room in a crack house or a dog bed at the pound.”

  The woman who worked at the rental agency at least sounded sorry, not that sounding sorry made a damn bit of difference in the scheme of things. “Nothing. You make good money, but the problem is that your credit history is dismal, and you have no rental history. There isn’t a lot of inventory right now because of tourists, so everything is short term and already taken. You got the place you did because the landlord tends to look for people who won’t qualify for other options.”

  Jasmine rubbed at her temple. Of course that was the case. Finn was always trying to save someone, the honorable bastard. She couldn’t live there, though, not with Finn so close. Already she felt a war inside her, one that tore her between wanting to see him and wanting to run as far as she could.

  But she’d sunk all she had into this place. First, last, security—all of it had drained away what little she’d saved up while trying to get her divorce finalized.

  “I’ll keep looking and call you if I find anything,” the woman offered before hanging up.

  Wonderful. Trapped. The one thing she really hated to be. The small casita which had seemed so perfect before now felt like a prison. She’d been excited to get outside, to take a dip in the pool, to wander the wooded space in the back. Now she was afraid to even leave the house.

  Two days had passed since she’d argued with Finn, and she hadn’t caught a glance of him. It was easy, she’d guess, since she lived in the back. She didn’t need to go out, had already filled the fridge with necessities and she worked from home. All that together meant she could avoid leaving, and when he left, he used the front door.

  But that couldn’t continue.

  She couldn’t just avoid him for the year she planned to stay there.

  The thought almost felt like a challenge, and she had a moment of insanity where she considered doing just that. She could have all food and groceries delivered, and when she needed to get out—vitamin D was a real thing— she’d only do it when he was gone at work.

  Then the idea of becoming some weird, twisted creature living in his back yard who never saw other people sobered her.

  There were two kinds of problems, he’d once told her when they’d been first dating, when she’d been seventeen and trying to figure out her next step in life. ‘You either face the problem or you run, and when you run, you’re only delaying having to face it.’

  She’d shown him, though, hadn’t she? How many problems had she outrun in her life?

  Sadly, not him. He appeared to have fit into the other camp, because he kept showing up, an itch that never really got scratched, a cut that never healed.

  But what did facing him mean?

  Maybe they could be friends?

  No, that’s too far.

  He could be a landlord and she could be a tenant and that was just fine. It could be professional and easy and they’d stay out of each other’s way.

  She nodded, as though she’d decided, as if that decision had been a simple, straightforward one.

  Too bad nothing had ever been simple when it came to Finn.

  Chapter Three

  Jasmine struggled under the weight of the heavy box the delivery man had just dropped off. Her job had mailed her a new setup, and the box included both monitors and the new laptop.

  She made it to the side gate before her arms started to tremble. Worse, how exactly she’d get that gate open eluded her.

  It was times like this when she missed having someone around. She wasn’t the sort to need a big, strong man to help, but damn if being an independent woman didn’t suck at times.

  She balanced the box against the fence as she used a foot to try to open the latch.

  The box slid sideways, but before it hit the ground, something steadied it.

  The weight lifted, and Jasmine
twisted to thank her helper.

  Until she realized it was Finn.

  Of course it was. Who else would it be?

  “I had it,” she snapped.

  Finn laughed, his biceps seeming to barely strain under the weight of the large box, as if it were nothing. Then again, only an idiot would look at the man and try to say he wasn’t insanely strong. Even worse, he didn’t seem to realize it, didn’t flaunt it.

  His dark hair hung in his eyes, giving him that messy rebel look that was far more tempting than it had any right to be.

  “Sure you did,” he said with more than a little mockery. “Get the gate, would you?”

  Jasmine fought down the desire to argue more. She’d almost dropped the stupid thing, so she really had no room to fight about his help. Clearly, she needed it.

  She opened the gate, then, after holding it, darted past him for the door to her place.

  Finn walked in. “Where do you want it?”

  “The room on the left.”

  He nodded, heading that way and setting the box down in front of the desk. The action let her get a glimpse of his ass in his jeans, and despite not being a horny teenager anymore, she couldn’t deny that he filled them out well…

  “What’s in this thing?”

  “New monitors and a laptop for work.”

  He huffed softly. “You were always good with computers. Not a shock you’d make a career of it. You work from home, right? Figured as much, since you never seem to leave.”

  Jasmine took a step back when he turned to face her. She wasn’t afraid, but he was a lot of man in the small room. “Yeah. I like working from home. I can pick up and move whenever I want.”

  His eyes darkened, and as soon as she said the words, she realized what a bad choice they were.

  Still, instead of saying anything about them, he only shook his head. “Look, Jas, I want to make this work. I realize this isn’t all that comfortable for either of us, but the last thing I’d do is kick you out. Let’s figure this out and find a way to deal with one another, huh?”

  Jasmine let herself really look at him. Funny—even after five years, he looked so much the same. Same dark hair, same eyes such a dark brown they almost looked black. He had a streak of grease over his left arm and a tiny scar on his cheek from when he’d gotten into a fist fight with some asshole at a bar who wouldn’t quit running his mouth.

  How could someone be so familiar and yet feel like such a stranger at the same time? She knew his laugh, the way the skin beside his eyes crinkled when he smiled really wide, the sleepy way he spoke when roused too early.

  They knew each other, so they could be friends, right?

  It wasn’t as if she had a lot of other options.

  “We weren’t ever friends,” she pointed out.

  “Yeah, but what we were didn’t work out so well for either of us, did it? So why not try something new?”

  “What does friends mean to you?”

  He crossed his arms, and it showed off the wideness of his broad shoulders. No wonder he didn’t struggle with that box. “You don’t have any?”

  “Normally, my friends haven’t seen my vagina.”

  His bark of laughter came out hard, the rough sound he made when he was surprised. Then again, she supposed he’d had a long time to forget just how inappropriate her humor could be.

  Finn had always been the quintessential bad boy in looks. He had that rough quality, between his job, his ’no fucks given’ attire and his willingness to use his fists if he couldn’t find a middle ground with people.

  It had always seemed a striking conflict that his actual personality—sweet enough to rot her teeth—didn’t match his looks at all. He was kind, quick to laugh and smile and always there to help anyone who needed it.

  That was how they’d met, how he’d first gotten her. Sweetness wasn’t something she’d ever really known, so he’d been an odd enigma to her.

  “I figure there has to be a statute of limitations on genital viewing. After, say, five years it no longer counts,” he said.

  “So all I have to do is show you again and I get another five years free?”

  He smiled wider, as if her sharp wit pleased him. “What man would turn down a little peep show?”

  “Is that what we’d call it if you showed me? A little peep show?” She waited for him to respond, but when he didn’t, she threw her hands up. “You’re supposed to get mad when I imply your dick is small. You’re not even fun to fight with.”

  “Hard to be annoyed by something both of us know isn’t true. Five years might be long enough to put our past behind us, but while there are a lot of complaints you could have about me, my dick isn’t one of them.”

  She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. It seemed even she couldn’t argue against that.

  It made it worse that he knew, too. She could normally throw people off her trail by insulting them a bit, but Finn knew better.

  “Fine. Let’s stop talking about either of our genitals. How do we do this whole ‘friends’ thing?”

  Finn laughed softly, as if her unwillingness to admit anything amused him. “Let’s start by just not avoiding each other, huh?” He lifted an eyebrow when she went to deny it. “Of course you have. Look, I’m going to have a barbecue next week. Pool is ready, and what better way to settle in than over food and beers?”

  “And you’re inviting me?”

  “Well, you do live here. Besides, it’s a lot of people you know. Hell, maybe we can pretend we don’t hate each other during it.”

  “Fat chance there. Just because I’m willing to try the whole ‘friend’ thing doesn’t mean I don’t hate you.”

  “So we’re agreed then? Perfect. I figure we’ll get things started around five.” Finn shifted around Jasmine. He got close enough that she caught a whiff of his masculine scent mixed with something rich. Not cologne, of course, because Finn was so not the type of man to wear that.

  It was either whatever three-in-one shampoo, conditioner and bodywash he used, or it was something he’d picked up on his own. If that man smelled of sandalwood, it was because he’d been woodworking, or building homes for underprivileged orphans or something equally annoying and heroic.

  Jasmine shut the door after him and rested her forehead against it.

  Friends. Right.

  I am so screwed.

  * * * *

  The scent of a barbecue always made Finn’s mouth water. Sure, some people gave up meat—seemed to be a trend nowadays—but Finn had never been able to manage it.

  It had to have come from the old get-togethers at his grandma’s house, when his grandfather would grill burgers and let Finn help flip them. It was a taste of home no matter where he went.

  The large outdoor kitchen that sat just off the patio was shaded, making the work easy. Already people were buzzing about, and the party had a general light atmosphere.

  He didn’t deal with high-maintenance people, which meant his friends and family kept all get-togethers casual and fun.

  No sign of Jasmine. Her truck was out front, so she was home, but she hadn’t braved the party just yet.

  She will. Jasmine was unpredictable and difficult and stubborn, but she wasn’t a coward. She had said she would come, so she’d come, because if she hid away, she’d see it as a failure.

  She wasn’t about to let Finn win.

  Since that worked for his benefit, he figured he’d take her combative nature as a point to him.

  Besides, she’d always been combative. Ever since he’d met her that first time, when she’d thought he was someone else and had walked up to him, stabbed her finger into the center of his chest and told him off for cheating on her friend, he’d found her aggressive nature irresistible. He’d had inches and more than a few pounds on her, but she’d talked to him as if she were the bigger, more dangerous one between them. What was it about a strong woman that just did him in?

  “Damn,” his friend Trent said as he dragged a thumb across h
is bottom lip. “Who is that?”

  Finn twisted away from the grill to figure out who it was he was talking about. There weren’t that many people Trent wouldn’t know, but there could always be a new girlfriend or tag-along who showed up. Instead, what he found was Jasmine looking like she’d stepped right out of his best memories.

  She wore a pair of red jean shorts that revealed far too much of her legs for his comfort and had paired them with a black tank top. The strings of a bikini hung out from the back of her neck, telling him she’d worn her bathing suit beneath it. Her red hair was down, but the front was braided and clipped to the back of her head to keep it out of her eyes, and a pair of sunglasses sat on top of her head. The sun made the freckles on her cheeks stand out more.

  Trent wasn’t wrong. The woman was stunning, and Finn stared at her as if he couldn’t possibly look away. How could anyone blame him when she looked like that?

  It was only the sizzle behind him that yanked his attention back to find the burgers on the left in flames after grease had dripped and caught fire.

  “Shit,” he muttered and quickly flipped the at-risk food out of the way.

  “My thoughts exactly,” Trent said. “Any chance you can introduce us?”

  “Trust me, you don’t want to go anywhere near her.”

  “You calling dibs?”

  Finn snorted. “Not exactly. That’s Jasmine.”

  Trent whistled lowly. “That’s the famous Jasmine? Well, before I wondered how you could let some girl tie you up in knots twice, but seeing her? I can see exactly why. I’m going to go introduce myself,” Trent said.

  Finn kept his desire to snap to himself. Trent was who he was—an impossible womanizer. He enjoyed the chase and the challenge. If Finn warned him off, he’d only see Jasmine as an even more enticing prize.

  Besides, it had been five years. Was Finn really in a position to tell Trent anything about not going after her?

  Trent walked away, and Finn kept his back to them.

  Jasmine is nothing to me. Just a tenant.

  He used those words like a mantra, as though repeating them would make them true.