Third Time Lucky Read online

  Table of Contents

  Books by Jayce Carter

  Title Page

  Legal Page

  Book Description

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

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  About the Author

  Totally Bound Publishing books by Jayce Carter

  The Omega’s Alphas

  Owned by the Alphas

  Shared by the Alphas

  Saved by the Alphas

  Protected by her Alphas

  Caught by her Alphas

  Tamed by the Alphas

  Claimed by the Alphas

  Ready or Not

  Fake It ‘til You Make It

  Opposites Attract

  Ready or Not

  THIRD TIME LUCKY

  JAYCE CARTER

  Third Time Lucky

  ISBN # 978-1-83943-433-4

  ©Copyright Jayce Carter 2020

  Cover Art by Erin Dameron-Hill ©Copyright September 2020

  Interior text design by Claire Siemaszkiewicz

  Totally Bound Publishing

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Totally Bound Publishing.

  Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Totally Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

  The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

  Published in 2020 by Totally Bound Publishing, United Kingdom.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the authors’ rights. Purchase only authorised copies.

  Totally Bound Publishing is an imprint of Totally Entwined Group Limited.

  If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book”.

  Book three in the

  Ready or Not series

  Forget a second chance at love—they’re gearing up for round three.

  After an ugly divorce, Jasmine moves back to her hometown penniless, alone and ready to swear off men for good. Unfortunately, her new landlord turns out to be someone she knows well, and the only man she’s ever really fallen for. Now she just has to remember her most important lesson—love is far too risky a gamble.

  Finn can’t believe it when the girl who got away—twice—shows back up in his life. He let his guard down with her before, and both times she left him high and dry without a word. No matter how much he tells himself not to sign up for that ride again, he can’t help but wonder if, this time, things could be different.

  Jasmine and Finn fight both one another and their feelings, but it’s impossible to ignore the attraction between them. Can they overcome their past, or will the third time end in heartbreak as well?

  Dedication

  To Jaal, because without my thirst for his purple ass, I would have finished this a month sooner.

  Chapter One

  Jasmine stared at the inside of the small casita, her boxes filling the space, and wondered how the hell she’d ended up here.

  Moving back to their hometown was the sort of thing that happened when people failed.

  And boy did I fail.

  She blew a strand of her red hair from her face as she tried to figure out how long this mess would take to sort out. Unpacking had always been her least favorite part of the moving process. She loved actually moving. The adventure, the chance to breathe in the air of a new city, to meet new people…it all rejuvenated her, spoke to her wandering soul.

  Unpacking felt like putting down roots, and that was something she loathed.

  But she also refused to live out of boxes, which meant that renting this place was perfect. It was fully furnished, the rent was cheap and the agency she’d gone through assured her the landlord was a breeze to deal with. She wouldn’t have to worry about upkeep, about maintaining anything, and she’d have access to a beautiful pool.

  The twelve-month lease had made her hesitate—she never cared to sign her name to any commitment that long—but she’d done it the moment the rental agency had sent her pictures. The casita had two bedrooms, which was perfect for her. She could sleep in one and the other would serve as an office.

  Still, a year?

  She thought about the last long-term commitment she’d signed, when she’d put her name on that damned marriage license.

  That didn’t work out so well, did it?

  And here I am, starting over again.

  Her nice house, the beachfront place in Texas she’d worked so hard to buy, now had her ex living in it. He’d managed to get more than his fair share of their assets—meaning damn near everything—because he’d been the son of the local judge in that little paradise town. Connections went a long way, and he was the town’s golden child while she was the unruly outsider girl who had broken his heart.

  It hadn’t taken long for her to lose everything, and when she couldn’t decide where to go next, she’d figured home to lick her wounds made as much sense as anything else. Not that it was over. Her ex still refused to sign the final papers.

  Jasmine opened a box labeled office shit and went to set up her computer on the desk. She worked as a software engineer, and telecommuting meant she could pick up and move whenever. Given another year—especially with the low rent—she could save enough money to go anywhere she wanted.

  Staying in this town wouldn’t be an option long-term. Sure, the small mountain community had its charm. It was a vacation spot, close enough to the deserts and large cities of southern California that people flocked to it in the summer to escape the heat and in the winter to enjoy the snow. In theory, it was the perfect place to grow up.

  Theory never meant much in reality, though, and her childhood there had been dreadful. The picturesque settings hadn’t changed the darkness in her home, the fear, the ugliness that had lived there.

  Still, no matter how bad things had gotten, the trees had always made her feel free. She’d been able to walk out of that small shack of a house she’d lived in and stare up at the tallest trees that stretched toward the sky, and everything else would fade away.

  She’d been beaten down during her divorce with Aaron, no doubt about that, but she wasn’t done for. Just like she’d picked herself up after her shitty childhood, she’d do so again now.

  The office came together quickly, and she broke down the cardboard boxes and put them in the recycling bin by the side gate. She made the bed with her sheets, wanting to get the most important things done first. A place to sleep and one to work were all she really needed.

  Being back in her hometown kept forcing her mind to the past, to the good times and the no
t so great. It had been five years since she’d returned for the funeral of her stepdad.

  That had been a joyous occasion—to be sure he was really gone, to watch him lowered into the ground and know it was over. It had lifted some of the darkness of the town for her.

  She might have even stuck around for a week or two if it hadn’t been for him.

  Jasmine tried to stop that train of thought before she got a picture of the one who was always there in the back of her head.

  What is it about first loves that does that? They tattoo themselves onto a person’s soul, and no matter how much time passes, no matter what happens, they never really go away. The memory of being tangled up together with her first—and only—love after the funeral, of his lips, of his dark hair and darker eyes, of the way he smelled of oil and cinnamon…it all swept over her.

  He wasn’t the one who got away, because she had left him. Was he still there, living in the town?

  It wouldn’t feel like the same place if he wasn’t, but then again, she didn’t want to see him, either.

  She sighed as she collapsed on the couch, ready to put all the nonsense of her past behind her and start over.

  If only things were so easy.

  Finn loved his home. He’d bought it when he’d turned twenty-two, and he hadn’t ever been so proud of another thing. It had started off as a rundown fixer-upper that wasn’t too far from being condemned. His parents had co-signed the loan for him, but he’d come up with all the money himself. Now, ten years later, no one would recognize the place.

  He’d worked tirelessly on it, doing all the work himself. By trade he was a mechanic, but his father had been a contractor and that had given Finn the ability to do the work himself.

  Finn didn’t enjoy travel, being a homebody at heart, but sometimes he couldn’t avoid it. He set his suitcase by the front door, thankful to be back after three weeks away. His parents had upped and moved to Florida, claiming that was what all people did once they reached seventy, and he’d gone for his regular visit.

  In the time he’d been gone, the new tenant had moved in. While he liked doing things himself, he preferred using an agency for renters. Dealing with running background checks and collecting rent wasn’t his thing, and when he’d tried it at first, he’d been a pushover and accepted every excuse in the book.

  Having professionals handle it had been well worth the percentage of the rent they took.

  His new tenant, the one for the casita in his back yard, was a woman, according to the email he hadn’t bothered to really read. He didn’t care much for details. She had credit issues after an ugly divorce, was from out of town, but made more than enough to cover the rent and had been at her job for eight years.

  That was good enough for him. He wasn’t a fussy man, and he hadn’t had problems with tenants before. Mostly they all minded their own business.

  Still, it was best to go introduce himself. The last thing he needed was to get the cops called on him at his own house if she spotted him in the dark and didn’t know who he was.

  Finn ran his fingers through his hair, trying to look presentable. His life as a mechanic had left him not caring much about that, since he rarely dressed up without a streak of grease he’d missed somewhere on him. He figured it was just one of the hazards of his job.

  He didn’t need to impress her, but he didn’t want to look like some no-good asshole she’d have to worry about sharing space with, either.

  He crossed the back yard, making his way around the large pool, its water that crystal blue that always made him want to take a dip.

  “Son of a bitch,” came a feminine voice from inside the casita.

  It drew a smile from him. He’d prefer a tough woman who cursed rather than some delicate flower. They’d get along just fine.

  He knocked on the door, hard enough so she’d hear it above the country music that was blaring.

  “Just a minute!”

  Finn tucked his thumbs into the belt loops of his jeans, waiting for her to open, for him to get the little meet-and-greet out of the way.

  He wanted to cook a steak for dinner. Hell, maybe he’d cook an extra for his new tenant, just a little ‘welcome to the house’ thing. The weather was hot, but cooking outside meant the house wouldn’t swelter.

  The creaking of the door pulled him from his thoughts, and he opened his mouth to explain who he was.

  Except then he saw his new tenant, the woman who had agreed to rent the casita for the next year.

  Jasmine.

  He’d never forget that red hair, or those bright green eyes, or the freckles that covered her cheeks and ran across the bridge of her pert little nose.

  The woman who had run away from him. The woman who had broken his heart—twice—was his tenant.

  Well, shit.

  Chapter Two

  Jasmine’s mouth went dry as she got a look at the man on her doorstep. Long legs and thick, muscular thighs were clad in faded blue jeans—and really faded, not the fake worn when someone bought them already distressed. He had sneakers on that had seen better days and a black T-shirt with writing on it from a bar she’d never heard of.

  Dear lord, this man is sexy.

  She lifted her gaze from his delectable body to his face, figuring that as long as all his facial features were in generally the right place, there was no way she wouldn’t indulge in some fun.

  At least, she thought that until she met his gaze, when his impossibly dark and familiar eyes caused a crushing tightness in her chest.

  Finn.

  The man she’d run from.

  Twice.

  How had he found out she was there so fast? She hadn’t even gotten in contact with old friends, hadn’t told anyone she was back. She knew damn well that would lead to questions she didn’t feel much like answering, so she’d stayed quiet.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  He pressed his lips together, the hard look in his eyes enough to tell her he didn’t seem too happy about the reunion either. “Really? You’re going to snap at me?”

  “Well, you’re the one standing on my doorstep.”

  He let out a snort of laughter, the kind that said he was cursing karma right about then and regretting whatever he’d done in the past to put himself in such a position. “You’re renting this place?”

  “Yeah, I am. So I’d appreciate if you would leave already.”

  “I don’t know, sunshine—you’re the one who has all the experience with running.”

  Sunshine.

  That was it, the trigger she needed for the last time she’d seen him to come rushing back.

  Finn had kissed her as though he couldn’t get enough, his lips firm and demanding and solid in a way nothing else was.

  Sure, maybe sleeping with her ex after her stepfather’s funeral hadn’t been what a therapist might suggest, but right then she’d needed Finn. She had needed someone who knew her, someone who understood the energy coursing inside her, who knew what she needed and could give it to her.

  They had gone to her motel room, sought something in one another that had always been there, that never seemed to go away no matter how long they spent apart. He’d left her breathless and pulled all that energy from her, held her steady in a world that was anything but.

  When they had finished, both panting and naked and covered in sweat, she’d rested her head on his chest.

  ‘Stay,’ he’d whispered. ‘It’s been a long time, sunshine, so stay.’

  Temptation had eaten at her. She could settle, especially with the only person who had ever made her feel this way. ‘I’m not good at staying,’ she’d said.

  His strong fingers had rubbed at her scalp. ‘You ran off before, but the way you looked at me? You want something. You’re searching for something you haven’t found out there yet. You know it’s here.’

  She had known it. That desire to fall into Finn, into a quiet, happy life, had always been right there. She’d only needed to grasp it.


  ‘Okay,’ she’d whispered back. ‘I’ll stay.’

  He’d pressed a kiss to the top of her head before he’d relaxed, as if those words had been all he’d needed to hear.

  She’d waited until he had fallen asleep, using that time to pretend, for just a moment, that the future he wanted was one they could have. She had told herself she could be who he wanted, that she could put down roots, that she could stay in one place.

  It had been a lie, of course.

  Memories of her mother, trapped by a marriage to a man who had tormented her, had played in Jasmine’s head until Finn’s breathing had evened out, until his hand had fallen from hers and he’d slept deeply enough that she’d dared to move.

  She had crawled from the bed, dressed, and slid from the room, leaving him behind without a word.

  Sunshine. Jasmine swallowed down the memory, the way she’d always loved his nickname for her. Sure, he said it now like a curse, but that didn’t stop her mind from wanting to relive each time he’d uttered it. So many times when it had been good, when he’d whispered it into her ear along with a passionate groan, when he’d rumbled it out, groggy, as their alarm had gone off.

  But that was then, and she’d seen it fall apart, and nostalgia wouldn’t fix what was wrong.

  “I don’t need to fight with you,” Jasmine said, trying to keep her voice strong. “I’m not looking to argue, didn’t come and find you to rehash old history.”

  The sharpness of his gaze said it wasn’t such old history to him. “I always said fate has a funny sense of humor.”

  “Yes, hilarious. Are we done, yet?”

  He shook his head, his lips curling into a tired smile. “Not even close.”

  She narrowed her gaze. Sure, at first she’d felt bad, for a moment, but arguing helped to transform her guilt to annoyance. “Fine. I’ll just call the landlord. He can escort you away.”