The Marine's Temptation. Jennifer Morey
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later than she usually is,” Carson said.
“Yeah. Have you noticed how different she’s been?” Whit asked. “She’s taken Dad really hard, but I expected her to be moving on by now.”
“Mom’s behavior shocked her, I think,” Carson said.
“Well, maybe it’s time to shock her out of her funk. Did you know she had to cancel a charity event last week?”
Carson turned a sharp look to him. “No.”
“Yeah. Stayed out late the night before. Come to find out she hadn’t finished making arrangements. I doubt the sponsor will use her again.”
Carson stared at his sister awhile. “It’s so unlike her. She’s usually so punctual and together.”
“Yeah. Bad girl isn’t a term I’d stick her with but...”
Both brothers watched Landry swing an arm around one of the handsome men in her circle. She spilled a little of her drink and tipped her head back to laugh at her clumsiness.
“I’ll talk to her,” Carson said.
“So will I. Between the two of us, maybe we can talk some sense into her.”
“She needs to accept what happened.”
“Something I could say to you, too, brother.”
Carson turned another sharp look toward his brother. “Me?” Carson wasn’t a partier and he’d grabbed his father’s death by the horns. He was having no trouble coping. Except...
Georgia understood what Whit meant. Carson hadn’t accepted his injury and its impact on his future.
“It’s why I need to talk to you. It’s about AdAir Corp. I’ve been hesitant up until now to broach the subject. I’m not sure how you’ll feel about it.”
Perplexed, Carson’s brow rose. “This sounds serious. Feel about what, Whit?”
“I should have pulled you into my office for this discussion, but there never seemed to be a good time for that.”
Not with their father’s murder, Jackson’s kidnapping and someone shooting at Carson mucking things up.
“Okay. You’ve got my attention. This is about the business.”
Whit pulled out a chair and sat, flattening his hands on the table. He was still hesitant. Whatever he needed to say, he had major reservations.
“Whit? It’s me. Carson. Just tell me.”
“You might not like it. And it’s something I really need from you.”
“Okay. What is it? I’m sure we can work it out.”
Georgia began to feel like an intruder. “Maybe I should go talk to Ruby.”
She started to stand, when both men said, “No,” at the same time.
“You can stay,” Carson said.
She leaned back against the chair, and Carson turned to Whit again, who hesitated yet again.
“Carson, I know how you felt about Dad. His business. But with Elizabeth pregnant, I don’t want to spend so much time at the office. Now that you’re back and out of the Marines, maybe you’d consider taking over for me?”
Georgia felt the internal shock wave that rendered Carson still and speechless. He did not react well to that request. He hadn’t expected it, either. Whatever he’d thought they could figure out hadn’t included this.
“Nothing you need to decide now. I wasn’t planning on leaving soon. But give it some thought, okay?”
“What will you do?”
“I’d like to stay close to home. Work the ranch, maybe.”
How sweet. He wanted to stay close to his wife and raise a family. Beside her, Carson’s profile told a different story, as if he felt squeezed into a corner. Not just cornered. Pressed there. Crushed.
“Maybe you should hire someone,” Carson said.
Whit’s head angled and his mouth frowned in disappointment. “I didn’t expect you to react positively to this, not right away. But I don’t want to hire from the outside.”
“I’m not qualified.”
“Yes, you are. You know the business. Whether you like it or not, you know it. And I’d train you, help you with the transition.”
“Whit, I don’t think—”
“You need to put the Marines behind you, Carson. What happened.”
Whit meant when Carson had been shot. There was so much emotion radiating off him that Georgia became certain whatever conundrum he had over leaving the Marines affected him greatly. He hadn’t wanted to leave. He’d been forced because he’d been shot. And now the idea of taking over for Whit, taking his father’s place, did not go over well with him. He recoiled against it.
“All I ask is that you consider it,” Whit said.
Carson stood. “Yeah. Sure. I’ll think about it. What else am I going to do with my life than run Dad’s company?” Bitterness dripped from his tone.
He looked down at Georgia. “I’m heading back to the house. You coming or waiting for your mom?”
He sounded curt and annoyed. No, troubled.
“Oh...” Georgia was so stunned by his reaction that she fumbled for a response. “I’ll wait.”
“Carson, I didn’t mean to put you on the spot, but I had to talk to you about it. I don’t want the company controlled by an outsider. It’s a family business.”
“I said I’d think about it, Whit.” With that, he stalked off.
Georgia watched him go, more than a little curious over what had made him so surly. When he disappeared outside the barn, she turned to Whit.
“Well, that went worse than I thought it would,” he said.
She looked toward the barn doors. Carson was home, but he didn’t want to be here. He was here not by choice. He was a man who needed to be in charge of his own direction. Take that away and what was left? A man going through a life change. Resisting it every step of the way.
“He hates the idea of following our father,” Whit said, bringing her gaze back to him. “But he has nowhere else to go.”
“He could do worse than running a successful company.”
Whit grunted his doubt. “Tell him that.”
Maybe she would. Because she was sure something more than being shot had put all that emotion in him. More than rebelling against his father. And more than his father’s murder. What dismayed her was that something she couldn’t control made her want to find out.
Today, Georgia wore a long-sleeved, soft orange T-shirt with a flowing black tank top over that. Carson walked beside her on their way to the plane. Her top had subtle floral embroidery and all her accessories matched the soft orange. Flower earrings, bracelet, purse, belt. Black skinny jeans that had him checking out her butt too often.
“How many suitcases did you bring?” he asked.
“Huh?” She stopped at their gate. People glided by on the moving walkway. A woman passed with a pet carrier.
He indicated her purse. “You seem to have a purse for every outfit.”
“I have a suitcase for those and shoes. And one more for the rest.”
“For someone who doesn’t like money, you sure