Third Time Lucky

by Jayce Carter

  Normally that was all it determined. He’d rarely turned that temper on Jasmine herself, except that night when he’d backhanded her. It had been because she’d put herself between him and her mother.

  How many times had she sat there in her life and tried to figure things out? Tried to come up with some reason for it all.

  Finally, she’d understood reality.

  People were shitty. All people, all the time. There weren’t reasons for why they did the things they did, no way to understand and fix it all.

  Life was random, but always bad, as if it had a spinner with only terrible options. A person would never know what they’d get, but it could be guaranteed they wouldn’t like it.

  She’d mailed the items and gone to the computer store, Finn her shadow through it all.

  The small sedan ‘loaner’ he’d mentioned had been sitting in the driveway when they’d returned, and he’d handed her the keys as though it were nothing. That freedom helped ease her fears a bit.

  Still, she’d found herself back in her bed, unable to sleep.

  She gave up the fight after another ten minutes of pointless, painful self-reflection, and rose.

  Maybe she’d sit outside, let the smell of the pine trees seep into her.

  As she exited her room, her foot sank into wet carpet.

  What the hell?

  Jasmine walked through the sopping carpet until she reached the light switch. She found the darkened and wet flooring spread out through the entire living room.

  She checked the office, and while some of the wetness had started to creep into the room, her computer equipment looked fine. She unplugged the power strip and moved the cords off the floor just in case. The kitchen tile was slick and soaked, and the bathroom?

  Well, there was the problem. Water was gushing out of the wall beside the tub.

  Just wonderful.

  She carefully left the bathroom—breaking her leg by falling would not make this situation better—and went to the back door of the main house.

  One of the rare good things about renting was that she didn’t need to be the one on the phone to a plumber at three in the morning. That was Finn’s problem.

  She knocked on the door hard, and a light inside said he’d heard her.

  It only took another minute before he opened the back door, looking entirely disheveled.

  And far too handsome.

  His hair was messier than usual, a sure sign he’d been asleep. He wore no shirt and only a pair of boxers, which she’d bet he’d pulled on to answer the door. Finn was the sort of man who slept naked, or at least had been before, and she doubted that had changed.

  If his body had been sinful when dressed, it was nothing compared to how he looked half-naked.

  His thighs were thick, with muscles standing out on his quads. He didn’t narrow much at the waist and the band of the boxers hid where the trail of dark hair went from below his navel to farther down. He wasn’t lean, not the sort of man who watched what he ate to get an incredibly low body fat that would show off those muscles he developed from hard work. Instead, his body was large all over, with strength hidden beneath the slight layer of fat, and Jasmine found herself entirely enthralled by the sight.

  He cleared his throat, and it drew her gaze up.

  Fuck. Was he talking to me?

  “I asked what was wrong,” he said, his voice husky and drenched in sleep.

  What was wrong? It took Jasmine more time than it should have to remember. Right. “There’s a leak at my place. Everything’s wet.”

  “Shit,” he muttered and walked toward the casita.

  “Aren’t you going to put some clothes on?”

  “You’re one to talk,” he responded, jaw tight.

  It was only then Jasmine looked down and realize she’d gone to bed in her tank top and a pair of panties—no bra, because who would sleep in a torture device like that?—and hadn’t put on anything else before rushing over.

  “Besides,” he kept going, a blessing that she didn’t have to come up with a response, “it’s better I get the water off faster.”

  He went to the back of the casita, not inside. She followed, and it was impossible to deny that she liked his competence. He didn’t stress, didn’t look overwhelmed. Instead, he went directly to a valve on the back wall of her place and twisted the knob. “This will shut the water off for the entire casita,” he explained before moving past Jasmine and to the door. He entered, scowling slightly as his bare foot hit the wet carpet.

  “The leak was coming out of the bathroom wall.”

  He nodded, then went there. He pressed his hand to the drywall. “Fuck. Yeah, this isn’t great. Your computers are fine, right?”

  His concern made her take a step backward. She’d spent years with Aaron and he had never once asked about her things. When they’d packed up before a particularly bad storm, he hadn’t given a care for anything of hers.

  She shook herself awake. He was probably worried she’d sue him if they got damaged. “No. They’re all on the desk, and the water didn’t get much into the rooms.”

  “Good.” He nodded as he surveyed the room, then let out a long sigh. “Look, Jas, you can’t sleep here tonight. I’m going to open it all up and set up a fan to dry it out. Tomorrow I can get in here and have a better idea of what kind of work it’s gonna need.”

  Jasmine froze at that. Where was she going to go? She had enough money to rent a room at the disgusting little motel for a night, maybe two if she needed, but that was it. She chewed at her bottom lip as she tried to figure things out.

  Worse came to worse, she could sleep in the loaner car she had from Finn—

  “Focus.” Finn’s snapped voice brought her out of her spiral of panic.

  She faced him, his dark eyes a trail of breadcrumbs to find her way back. It let her draw in a deep breath.

  “You always worry before you have a reason to. I’ve got space. You’ll stay in the main house.”

  “With you?” Why did she sound so breathless when she asked that?

  He huffed out a rough laugh. “I mean, I wasn’t figuring in my bed or anything. I’ve got an extra room, and there’s a desk in it, too. Come on, show me how to deal with your computers so we get them safe and sound inside.”

  Jasmine let her gaze drift over to the main house, to the thought of sleeping under the same roof as him.

  She didn’t have any other options, but damn…it seemed like a really bad idea.

  * * * *

  Finn growled softly as he stared at the damage to the casita. Once morning had come, he’d been able to really survey it.

  The leak wasn’t the real problem—it never was when it came to plumbing issues.

  It would take him an hour to fix the broken pipe. The issue was the water damage. The drywall would need to be replaced, the area in the bathroom retextured and repainted. Worse, though, the carpet in the living room had been entirely soaked, and even the molding and bottom of the drywall showed damage.

  This was going to take him a few weeks to get right, especially because it all needed to dry, first.

  Jasmine was working in his guest room. He’d heard the clicking of her keyboard—and damn, how had he not realized how much he missed that sound?—then she’d spoken. At first he’d thought she’d been speaking to him. He’d peeked in to find her with headphones on and attention on the screen. A video call, it seemed.

  He’d never understood that, because he had only begrudgingly moved from a flip phone when his had died and the person at the store had laughed and explained they didn’t make them anymore.

  Not that he faulted her. The truth was that something about her knowledge had always turned him on. The way she moved around technology was like a dance, and it awed him. The sound of her typing had filled their days together, a metronome to his life.

  Staring at this place isn’t going to change a thing. He went back inside, ready to get a plan together.

  Normally he’d fix the place
himself, but between work and Jasmine wanting to move back in, he’d have to give in and hire someone. He knew good folks who could get it done right, but having anyone work on his house had always chafed.

  By the time he’d finished setting up someone to come by and give him a quote, called and checked in on the shop and contacted the rental agency to update them, it was lunchtime.

  Thankfully, he had tamales in the fridge. They heated up quickly, and he carried a plate to Jasmine’s room.

  A soft knock was met with her calling for him to enter. Her headphones were off, and she turned in the office chair to face him. Her gaze landed on the plate. “Oh, thanks.”

  He shrugged, the gratitude strange, as though they were awkward and not sure how to continue. “Not a problem. Figured you were hungry but wasn’t sure when you took lunch.”

  “I just finished my last meeting for the day.” She rose, thankfully having dressed.

  He still had her image from the night before burned in his mind. She’d been so damned tempting, lit by the glow of the porch light, dressed in next to nothing. Her tank top had been thin and done little to hide her breasts, or the way the chill made her nipples point through the fabric. She had a body he wanted to lose himself in again.

  She took the plate from him. “Are you eating, too?”

  Her hesitation made his lip curl up. “Yeah, I am. Table’s big enough for two.”

  To his surprise, she nodded.

  Once they sat at the kitchen table, he figured there wouldn’t come a better time to broach the topic at hand. “Look, Jas, it’s going to take me a couple weeks to have your place ready.”

  She let out a slow sigh before taking another bite. Once she’d finished it, she nodded. “I figured.”

  Her eyes started to do that thing he knew so well, when she was planning, when she was thinking far too hard about her next move. He’d watched it happen when they were younger, when something would change plans and she’d try to adapt. He guessed it came from not having parents she could rely on. Instead, she’d always been the one to care for herself.

  And just like the last item, he tried to put an end to it before she worked herself into a tizzy. “You’ll stay here.”

  That broke her line of thought if her jerking her gaze to his meant a thing. “What? I can’t just live here.”

  “Sure you can. There’s space for you and your office. I know it isn’t ideal, and it isn’t what you planned, but there’s no reason to find a new place for just a couple weeks. And you won’t pay any rent for as long as it takes to get your place ready. That’s just fair.”

  She set her fork down, a slow move as if she were thinking. “Do you really think it’s a good idea for us to live together?”

  No, probably not. “We’re adults. We’ve got a past, but who doesn’t? It’s not forever, but you’ve got to admit, finding somewhere else isn’t easy. You’ll waste a lot of money and cause yourself a hell of a headache. Stay here and you still have the pool, the back yard, you don’t waste any money and you’re ready to move back in when it’s done.”

  Her pink lips pressed into a tight line. He knew that face, her ‘I don’t like it but I can’t come up with a good argument’ face.

  And, to be fair, he wasn’t thrilled with the idea, either.

  He didn’t want her that close. He’d been so ready to kiss her that night after the barbecue, and when he’d seen her half-naked last night? Damn, he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

  So having her sharing his living space was about as smart as putting kittens in with starving coyotes.

  But he didn’t see a better plan, and he wasn’t about to put her out because of his own lack of control.

  Nope. I can resist her.

  She wet her bottom lip with her tongue, a mindless motion that made him hold in a groan and repeat the statement to himself again.

  Chapter Five

  The sound of work from the back yard never ended. It had been a week, and she swore the casita looked like a disaster zone.

  The carpet and padding beneath had been ripped out, along with sections of drywall. She had no idea how it could be put back together again.

  Worse, between the loud and obnoxious fans and the power tools, she’d lost her peaceful sanctuary.

  No matter how much she tried to focus on work, it never failed to get pushed back when someone decided now was the perfect time to use a saw right outside her window.

  She’d thought about working at the coffee shop she liked to go to, but noise and distraction had never been her friend. Not to mention she couldn’t exactly take video meeting calls at public places. She needed silence to concentrate, and she didn’t even have enough money to rent a temporary office space. Each time she tried to settle in, the noise of the back yard made her tension ratchet up a little more.

  She closed her laptop harder than needed and gave up. She had things to do, but she doubted she’d get anything done while people were working.

  Somehow, despite living together, she’d seen little of Finn. He had his own bathroom off his room, which meant she had the main one to herself. He worked at his shop during the day, often until late, and she ate dinner in her room before he got home. They’d pass one another, but that was it.

  Finn seemed happy enough with the arrangement, as if he didn’t care for seeing much of her, either.

  Which hurt more than it should have.

  She’d walked out on him, but damn…she missed how he used to smile at her, as if she were his entire world.

  He’d been sweet, gentle, all the things that had let her take down those walls she’d built to keep people away. He’d chipped away at her defenses slowly, always taking his time, always quick to step back when needed.

  So, living like this, as though they were strangers, created a hollow spot in her chest. It didn’t matter that it needed to be this way.

  Add to it that Trent wouldn’t stop trying to see her, calling her and sending text messages.

  She was so far past overwhelmed.

  She needed to get out of there. She put her laptop into her backpack, took the charging cord and went to the car Finn had lent her.

  This was all his fault, anyway.

  So, maybe that isn’t entirely fair. Finn hadn’t caused the problem and had gone out of his way to fix it as quickly as possible. Still, she felt like blaming him. It wasn’t as if she could blame anyone else.

  Sure, Aaron had played a big part in this mess, and Trent wouldn’t leave her alone, and she’d made her share of mistakes that had led her here, but she couldn’t argue with any of those people.

  She could, however, argue with Finn. That never got old.

  The drive to his shop gave her time to work herself into a good pre-hissy fit.

  By the time she got out of the car, she was steaming mad. Not just about the house, or the noise, or anything else recent.

  Nope, she’d let herself think about the time Finn had forgotten her birthday, and the time he’d not so carefully told her he didn’t like her haircut, and every other little thing he’d ever done wrong in all the years she’d known him.

  In short?

  She was pissed. At him.

  For everything.

  She stormed into the garage, her bag over her shoulder.

  A younger man came up to her. “Can I help you?”

  “Where’s Finn?”

  The man’s face went white. Maybe she should have softened her tone a bit, but she just wasn’t in the mood to soften anything. “He’s working. Can I do anything for you?”

  Jasmine crossed her arms and straightened her back. “Not unless you can fix all the mistakes he’s made, and spoiler alert—there are a lot of them.”

  The man opened his mouth but no sound came out.

  Jasmine waved him off and walked past him.

  “You can’t go in there,” the man said as he followed her. “Customers aren’t allowed.”

  “I’m not a customer,” she snapped as she looked around.
The shop was large, and she recalled from the last time she’d been there—back before he’d bought it, when he’d only been a mechanic there—how it was set up. An office upstairs, space for cars in the open warehouse area and a supply room in the back. The front had the office space, but she’d walked right past that.

  “She’s fine,” came that rough voice that threatened to melt the tough attitude she’d cultivated on her way over, which would have been a shame. No reason to let a good temper tantrum go to waste.

  The man stammered out an apology and ran off, seeming more than happy to pawn her off on Finn.

  “You didn’t need to scare him,” Finn said.

  “You don’t need to hire people who scare so easily.”

  Finn crossed his arms, but the fact that even that didn’t distract her was a testament to her anger. “What’s all this about?”

  “Do you have any idea how loud it is at the house?”

  “Fixing things is loud, sunshine. No way around that.”

  “Well, I need to get things done, and that isn’t possible when I’m sitting in the house and people are hammering outside my window!”

  Finn lifted one eyebrow, the way he’d always done when her temper had gotten the better of her and he’d been able to stand there as if nothing were going on. She’d always envied him that. He had such control over his emotions and she seemed driven by hers, never able to quite get them under control.

  He turned and started to walk away.

  Oh, hell no.

  Jasmine followed, even as he started up the stairs. “Don’t you walk away from me. I’m not done fighting with you.”

  “You’re never done fighting. In case you’ve forgotten, it’s one of the things we excelled at.” He opened the door to the office, the one with windows along two sides so it could overlook the shop.

  “This whole situation wasn’t my fault. I didn’t ask for you to be my landlord and I sure as hell didn’t ask for my place to get flooded, yet somehow, I’m making all the concessions here.”

  “To be fair, I didn’t ask for any of that either,” he pointed out before he shut the door, closing them into the office.