She steeled herself to face the older Corwin man alone.
“Lauren, I’m so glad you’re okay,” Thomas said.
“Thank you,” she said to Jason’s father.
“I heard it was quite an ordeal,” he said diplomatically.
She nodded. “At least no one was badly hurt.”
Reaching out, he pulled her into a brief hug and released her just as quickly, leaving her speechless.
Pleased, but speechless.
“Thomas!” Hank Corwin rushed up to them. “I heard the cops say that they’ll push for maximum security for the Perkins broad this time!” There was glee in his voice.
Nausea rose in Lauren’s throat. Before she could stand up for herself and inform Hank of how inappropriate and thoughtless his comments were, the rest of his family surrounded him.
Gabrielle and Derek, Amber and Mike, and Thomas faced him. “Shut up!” they all said at the same time.
Hank looked confused. “I was just telling you what I heard.”
“Just think before you speak,” Thomas said. “She may be simply a Perkins to you, but she’s Lauren’s sister and you’re hurting her every time you open that big mouth!”
Lauren’s own mouth opened but she couldn’t manage a word. She wanted to thank Jason’s father, but she was stunned and suddenly too exhausted to even stand.
Almost miraculously Jason appeared. He came up behind her and wrapped his arm around her waist, supporting her at a time when she needed it most.
JASON TUCKED Lauren into his bed back home, in the barn behind his uncle’s house. She’d managed to shrug off her coat, kick off her shoes, and shed her pants and top before crawling into bed and passing out.
He undressed and climbed in beside her, pulling her warm body close to his. Cocooned like this, he could almost forget the rest of the world existed. And for the remainder of the night, that’s exactly what he did. Attuned to her every movement, he slept when Lauren slept, awoke when she tossed and turned, and basically kept an eye on her all night long.
The next morning arrived too soon. To Jason, sunrise brought with it the beginning of the end.
As the sun peeked between the blinds, Lauren rolled over, propped on one arm. “Hi.”
“Hi, yourself.” He reached over and brushed a few strands of hair from her cheek, revealing a crease mark in her skin. “Sleep well?” he asked.
“All things considered, I guess so.” She seemed to pause in thought and he waited, letting her take the lead. She’d talk about whatever subject she was ready to tackle. He wouldn’t push.
“It’s over,” she said at last.
His stomach plummeted. Even knowing what was to come didn’t make the blow any easier.
“I don’t have anything left to put into the house,” she said, elaborating further.
Obviously his mind had been elsewhere and he scrambled to catch up with her conversation and ignore his rapidly beating heart.
“Before you jump to any big decisions, we don’t know the extent of last night’s damage or whether insurance would cover another incident. You might get lucky.”
Lauren drew a deep breath and shook her head. “You don’t understand. I’m finished. Done. I can’t deal with the house anymore and frankly I don’t want to. Besides, at this point the chances of me completing the project to buyer’s specifications on time are slim to none.”
He wanted to argue, if for no other reason than to lift her mood and give her hope, but in his heart he knew she was right. “What will you do?”
“I haven’t had time to think, but my gut tells me to just cut my losses and sell it as is. Hopefully someone will want a fixer-upper,” she said.
“Smart.”
She’d come to the only conclusion she could. From a business and monetary standpoint, the damage from the first fire had been extensive enough to put her deadline in jeopardy. Last night’s fire had merely compounded the cost and time involved, bringing her to the breaking point. And most importantly, from an emotional perspective, Lauren was obviously drained.