“It doesn’t work that way.” Derrick took a long sip of coffee, leaving a charged silence in his wake. “I’m oldest. I get to be bossiest.”
Jackson nodded. “We should put that on your business cards.”
Derrick kept his attention on Carter. “Where have you been hiding and why?”
Carter looked across the table at Spence, then to his right to Jackson. They all paid attention now. None of them looked at files or paperwork or reached for the fruit and bagels sitting in the middle of the table.
Carter sensed a setup and decided to play it off. “I drove in, then tried to steal Jackson’s coffee—”
Jackson cleared his throat. “In related news, I’d like a lock on my office door.”
“I’m surprised it took you this long to come up with that idea.” Spence laughed as he swooped in for the bagel closest to him.
Derrick being Derrick, he did not get knocked off stride by the chaos swirling around him. He hopped right back into the conversation where he left off. “Not this morning. I mean that you ran off to do Dad’s dirty work and then—”
Spence made a strangled noise. “Please rephrase that.”
“Then you came back to town and subsequently disappeared for a few days.” Derrick leaned back in his big office chair as he continued to talk to Carter. “Now you’re here, with that blank look on your face.”
“Blank?” He did not need this today, not when he’d spent the entire morning trying to decipher Hanna and the mystery of the envelope and gauge how to read her fluctuating moods. But turning the conversation away from wherever Derrick was heading could only be a good thing. So, Carter grabbed a mug and then the coffee pot. Skipped the sugar and went for black. A shot of caffeine might do him some good. “Sounds to me like you’re not getting enough sleep.”
“Nice try, but you’re wearing your I’m-trying-to-come-up-with-a-lie face.” Spence laughed at his own joke as he turned to Jackson. “Carter has been using that ever since he could walk.”
Jackson shook his head. “I forgot how fun it was to deal with all of you in the same room.”
“Consider yourself an adopted Jameson,” Spence said as he spun the plate in the middle of the table and grabbed the cream cheese.
Jackson caught the spinning tray before items started to fly off. “No, thanks.”
Derrick exhaled louder than necessary. He also scowled and generally looked annoyed. He’d perfected that look. “Let’s circle back to the original question.” Derrick aimed all of his focus on Carter. “What’s up with you?”
Admitting he had Hanna hidden at the Virginia estate would only invite questions. Sure, he could insist she deserved closure and they owed it to her after what happened to her father on their property. But the truth was his reasons for inviting her were far more complex and confusing. He did it for her, but he also did it because, after years away from her, he didn’t want the time with her to end. He was the guy who moved on but when she tried to make him do that, to leave her house, all he wanted was to stay.
He didn’t get it. He couldn’t explain it. He really didn’t even want to analyze his reaction to her all that closely.
He took his time twisting off the cap on the water bottle. “You guys were all busy with your women—”
Spence whistled. “I dare you to say it that way to them.”
“He’s stalling and saying provocative things in the hope of throwing us off track. He thinks it’s charming or something.” Derrick’s gaze hadn’t wavered. It stayed locked on Carter as the conversation swirled. “Which makes me wonder... Do you have a woman of your own you’re hiding somewhere, like maybe in a big house in Virginia?”
Derrick made the comment just as Carter swallowed, or tried to. The water came rushing back up his throat and he started coughing.
Spence snorted. “Well, well.”
“That’s telling,” Jackson said at the same time.
Then, for once, and not when Carter wanted them to, they all stopped talking. Their joint attention focused on him until he had to fight the urge to squirm. Calling up all of his life-of-the-party reserve, he aimed for calm and nonchalance. “I’ve been doing some work on the Virginia property.”
Spence dropped his bagel without taking a bite. “I don’t know how you can stand being there.”
“Not all the memories are bad.” Carter said that more as an automatic reaction than with genuine feeling. He’d programmed his brain to downplay the dysfunction. To ignore his playboy father, his dying mother, and every snide comment about being a failure and a disappointment.
His father had been harsh and cold. He’d thought nothing of throwing them to the ground or pitting brother against brother in both emotional warfare and actual physical fighting. Dear ol’ Dad insisted that behavior made them strong. Made them ready to take over the business. The same business he nearly bankrupted with his questionable under-the-table deals and lying.
“You held your engagement party there. We can all agree that was nice,” Carter said as the most obvious escape from the conversation popped into his head. He’d walked in on something interesting at the party, complete with Spence and Abby fidgeting and adjusting their clothes and looking as if they’d been caught if not in the act, then right after it. “Spence seemed to have enjoyed himself. Want to talk about that, Spence?”
Spence just smiled. “Not when we’re still talking about you.”
Well, damn. That didn’t work.
“Look.” Derrick set his mug down. “We just want to make sure you’re okay. That you’re not...”
Carter almost hated to ask but he had to know what thought or word had Derrick, his usually practical and reserved oldest brother, glancing around the room and avoiding eye contact. “What?”
Derrick grimaced. “Lonely.”
“Do we really care about that?” Spence asked, the sarcasm obvious in his voice.
“You don’t have to stay at the estate. You can live with me.” Derrick shook his head. “Ellie is upset you’re not at our place already.”
Carter couldn’t figure out if Derrick was using his fiancée as an excuse or not. But he did know the soon-to-be parents deserved some privacy. “Thanks, but now that Spence moved in with Abby, you should take a break from housing wayward brothers for a month or so.”
Derrick pointed at his second-in-command and friend to all of them. “Then live with Jackson.”
“Wait...what?”
Carter debated saying yes just to see Jackson sputter some more.
“Answer this question.” The squeak from Derrick’s chair echoed through the room as he sat forward and balanced his elbows on the edge of the table. “Are you thinking about leaving again?”
For a second, Carter’s brain scrambled as he rushed to figure out what Derrick was talking about. Then he remembered the scene a year ago when Derrick begged him to stay and promised a united front against their father. Carter had kept on walking, a move he regretted because it sent a message to his brothers that he’d never meant to send.
This was a conversation they’d all avoided since he’d been back, as if by silent agreement. Carter didn’t want to broach it now, but he didn’t want Derrick to worry either. “Why would you think that?”
“You delivered the letter to Hanna Wilde as Dad insisted, right?” Derrick stared at Carter until he nodded. “That means there’s nothing holding you here. I get that you want to move on, but I was hoping... I’d like you to stay. At least until the baby is born.”
Derrick was one of the smartest, toughest people Carter knew and here he was, sounding like he was begging his baby brother to stick around for a few more months. Carter hated that his tendency to leave difficult situations—the family, any state where their father lived—meant Derrick felt he had to plead. He’d definitely screwed up with the way he’d handled leaving a year ago and this was the resul
t.
“I’m not going anywhere.” Carter pulled back from saying more before he made a promise he couldn’t keep. “I mean, I know I’m not one to stick around, but as long as Dad isn’t here, I’m here.”
Jackson cleared his throat. “Is there anything else you want to talk about?”
The sentence was cryptic, but Carter understood Jackson was referencing Carter’s ideas about the future of the estate. Now was not the time. Carter still wasn’t sure those ideas were even the right ones for the business or for him. “No.”
Spence looked at Jackson. “What’s this about?”
Jackson looked at Carter an extra beat before turning back to Spence. “Nothing.”
“So, you’re hanging out in Virginia. You plan to stick around, at least for now.” Derrick smiled as he spoke. “Got it. But what about the woman part?”
Carter should have seen that turn coming, but he didn’t. It took his brain a second to unscramble. “We aren’t talking about my love life.”
“Actually, he was talking about fun. Some dating. A little sex.” Spence pointed at Carter. “You’re the one who mentioned love, which is not something any of us will forget.”
“I’d like to,” Jackson mumbled under his breath.
“And with that, I’ll be heading back to Virginia.” Carter stood up. He’d walk there if he had to, just to get out of this conversation.
“Hey.” Derrick didn’t raise his voice. If anything, he grew quieter. “Thanks.”
“I’m here because I want to be here.” Carter needed to make that point. His brothers could count on him even though he’d failed to show that to them in the past.
“Just let us know if that changes,” Spence said.
“Done.”
* * *
Carter didn’t get very far before Jackson caught up with him. In silent agreement, they both stopped walking and stood in the busy hall with phones ringing at desks all around them and the low rumble of voices filtering through the melee.
“I’m trying to figure out how brothers who are so good at loyalty and business, despite their idiot father’s meddling, can stink at interpersonal stuff.” Jackson shook his head. “Your ideas for the property, Carter. That was a perfect opening to talk it over.”
“Not yet.” He still hadn’t fulfilled his part of the agreement—a fact he knew because he still had that damn letter, but his brothers didn’t know yet. And without the three of them completing all of Dad’s tasks, their father wouldn’t officially turn the business over. He still held controlling interest.
Since Carter had vowed not to get into business with his father, that meant waiting until Derrick was officially in charge before moving forward with anything involving the Virginia property.
Jackson shifted his weight to the side to let two women from accounting pass by them. “Because?”
“I’m not ready.” He hated being unsure of his place in the family business, but that’s where they were. Jackson’s frown suggested he knew that. “And you can stop looking at me that way.”
“Is it possible you don’t want to talk about the proposal because if you do, and Derrick wants to pursue it, then you’re stuck here?”
Maybe that was another part of it. Settling in, creating roots, being a part of something. Not having the freedom to pick up and run to California for a few months. A part of him wondered if he’d ever be able to make the commitment to stay and rebuild his life here.
Another part knew the answer was no, not with all the memories chasing him.
“Did you get a psychology degree while I was away for a year?”
Jackson snorted. “I need one to deal with your family.”
That probably wasn’t far from the truth. Their dad had hired Jackson a few years ago. At first, Derrick had been skeptical but it hadn’t taken long for all of them to realize he was competent and not reporting back to Dad. Jackson moved from business associate to friend almost immediately. “You love us.”
“Some of you...” Jackson smiled. “But only sometimes.”
Six
Guilt gnawed at Hanna as she walked the fence line closest to the main house. The red and orange leaves blanketing the lawn provided a nice change of scenery compared to her morning of dismantling and searching the cottage.
If anyone had seen her through the cottage windows, they would have thought she was cleaning. But the real goal was to find her father’s journal, hoping it would provide some insight into how and why he really died. But nothing so far, so she went out for some air.
She walked, letting the cool breeze catch the loose hem of her sweater and billow up inside. The lawn was awash in color as the trees dropped their leaves. The fresh air recharged her. She’d spent the hours, the whole night, really, since kicking Carter out of his own cottage trying to think of a better way to handle her unwanted feelings for him and how guilty she felt for having them.
Her father had died. Her sister had died. Gena’s baby had never been born. With that much loss came a load of distrust. Hanna had aimed it all at Carter when his father was her true target.
Not that Carter remained blameless. He’d taken a back seat when it came to dealing with Gena and he’d let his father handle everything. That made him weak, not evil. Only, the pieces didn’t fit together for her. The man who’d hunted her down didn’t seem like the type to evade responsibility.
But her sister’s warnings still rang in her ears.
Don’t trust the Jamesons. Carter ran away. He will do anything to hide his mistakes.
She heard the crunch of dying leaves before she saw him. Looking up, she watched as Carter walked toward her with his hands stuffed in his pockets. One thought filtered through her memories: no one looked better in faded jeans and a plain black jacket than he did. From the broad shoulders to that trim waist to those long legs, he had the body of an athlete, which he had been at one time.
He stopped a few feet away from her as if he wasn’t sure if he was welcome to come closer. “You’re outside.”
Words backed up in her throat. “Yes.”
He blew out a long breath. “I see you’re sticking with curt responses.”
She hated that these feelings welled up inside her and spilled over. She wasn’t this person. She didn’t usually snap and act like a jerk. Life had taken an unexpected left turn on her, but she tried to stay positive. The only thing guaranteed to throw her off stride was the name Jameson.
The inner battle between wanting Carter to be the man he appeared to be and the memories of his father showing up unannounced, waving around Gena’s bills from the health-care clinic, caused a mental clash. Bills he shouldn’t have had. The same ones that referenced her pregnancy. Carter hadn’t mentioned that part when he’d spoken of Gena. He’d acted as if he didn’t know.
Why did she have to keep convincing herself that was just an act?
But there was one truth she could share without trouble. “About yesterday... Let’s just say I’m protective when it comes to Gena.”
“I have brothers. I get it.” He nodded. “And I knew her, Hanna.”
That did it. She could almost hear the door creak open. She debated rushing through it, peppering him with questions. Once she started, she knew she wouldn’t stop, but maybe she could peek in. “How?”
He frowned. “What?”
“What was she to you?”
His shoulders stiffened along with his jaw. “The way you’re asking makes me think you know.”
“I want to hear your definition.” She inhaled and walked through, even as dread settled over her, creeping in until she could barely hear. “Dating? Using her? Sleeping around?”
“Is this why you’re ticked off at me?”
“Your family...” What did she even say next? She had no idea how to start a conversation that ended with you ignited an emotional firestorm
that swallowed my sister. “Forget it. I’m here, at the estate, for one thing.”
“Which is what exactly?”
Answers. Closure. Revenge.
“I thought you were going to give me space and not ask questions.”
“Hey.” He reached out and took a step toward her but stopped when she pivoted away from his hand. “Okay. No touching. I get it.”
Something about the easy way he waded through this conversation set her off. This wasn’t about her old crush or the attraction that kept sparking even though she would give anything for it not to. This was about the pain she’d tried to lock away and her imperfect sister, who deserved better. “You think you can just swoop in and take whatever you want. That people’s feelings don’t matter.”
His head jerked back. “Where did that come from?”
“Gena was my sister. We talked about what was happening in our lives. About who was in them.” The rest threatened to spill out of her. Every horrible fact.
“Wait a second.” His hands were in the air and every movement seemed careful, as if he expected her to blow and he was trying to manage the situation. “Gena and I had a fling. A meaningless fling.”
With that, Hanna’s mind went blank. For a second she couldn’t say anything. Her mouth dropped open and it took all of her strength to close it again. “You’re such a man.”
“Which I’m assuming is a really bad thing in this scenario.” His hands dropped to his sides.
“It’s not good.”
A lawn mower started in the distance. The motor drowned out the sound of the gentle swish of the trees. Looking up at the house, she saw a woman open the balcony door on the second floor and then scurry back inside. It all felt so ordinary when this conversation was anything but.
“What do you think happened between me and Gena?” he asked.
If he wanted to do this, fine. She’d heard the story from Gena. Well, a story. Gena had a habit of embellishing, but she always started with a truth and that’s the part Hanna couldn’t forget. “You found her, took what you wanted and then blew her off.”
The Reluctant Heir Page 6