“You’re smart to be inside,” Jackson said as he walked into the Virginia estate’s library. He shook his head and beads of water splashed to the floor. More ran off his raincoat. He shifted his weight as he looked down. “Crap. I didn’t realize—”
“It’s fine.” Carter sat up and his back muscles groaned in relief. He glanced at the clock and realized he’d been sitting there for three hours without moving.
He blamed Hanna. He could not get her out of his head. Her face, that wary expression, the mix of pain and fire in her eyes as she talked about Gena. He didn’t understand the accusations or how she came to her conclusions. He had no idea how she could stand to be in the same room with him believing what she did.
But her doubts fueled him. Ever since their rough conversation yesterday afternoon, he’d been on a quest to piece together his schedule and show Hanna how short a time he’d been around and with her sister.
It was a ridiculous task. Totally unnecessary. He was a grown man and his sex life wasn’t Hanna Wilde’s business. But the idea of Gena committing suicide made him sick. The thought that he might have done something or said something to push her there left him feeling raw and hollow. She was funny and irreverent and the idea of her taking her own life left him feeling numb.
He hadn’t lied to Hanna. He and Gena had been nothing more than a quick hookup. When Hanna had suggested otherwise, he’d been desperate to clear his name. Still was. It was as if he needed her to believe in him. He hated the idea that he’d spent most of his time since seeing her again wanting to kiss her, touch her, all while she viewed him as an ass.
Jackson dumped his raincoat over the back of a chair and ran a hand through his hair. He nodded in the direction of the wall of files, papers and books stacked around Carter like a fort. “What exactly are you doing?”
“Working.”
Bookshelves filled with everything from nonfiction to thrillers lined the room. The desk sat away from the wall by the windows. The dark wood club-like room sat on the second floor with a shaded patio just outside the double French doors.
Jackson dropped into the chair across the desk from Carter. “I thought you didn’t work for your family.”
Carter silently cursed Jackson’s poor timing in showing up for a visit now. “There are other jobs, you know.”
“Uh-huh.” Jackson tapped his fingers on the chair’s armrest. “But you don’t have one of those either.”
“True.”
The fragile wooden chair creaked as Jackson leaned forward and picked a piece of paper off the stack closest to him. He frowned as he scanned it. “Your credit card bill?”
Carter reached out and grabbed it. “When did you get so nosy?”
“Since I volunteered to come out here and see what you’re really doing, I can’t deny the claim.” Jackson leaned back again, setting off a new round of creaking as the chair strained under his weight. “I’m here to poke around.”
“My brothers sent you?” That should have been obvious from the beginning. They’d both texted earlier. Now he knew they were checking to make sure he’d be there when Jackson arrived.
“You know what volunteered means. We were sitting around, talking about how weird and secretive you’ve gotten. Then we drew cards to see who got to come out here and bug you.”
The explanation sounded so odd that Carter knew it was true. “And you lost.”
Jackson snorted. “I won.”
Footsteps sounded in the hall. The person coming to visit was not trying to hide the entrance. Hanna stepped into the doorway perfectly dry but without an umbrella or raincoat. Carter guessed she’d dropped them downstairs, which left the question of how she knew where to find him.
“Lynette said I could come up.” Hanna’s steps faltered as her gaze landed on Jackson’s back. “Oh, man. I’m sorry.”
Jackson turned around as the chair tilted slightly to one side. “I’m not.”
Hanna winced as she started to back out of the room again. “I had no idea you had company.”
“It’s fine.” Carter watched her, looking for signs that she wanted to pick up where they left off yesterday. Her unreadable expression didn’t give anything away. “He’s more like family than company.”
“Please stop saying that.” Jackson got up and in a few steps stood in front of Hanna with his hand out. “Jackson Richards.”
Her hand froze in the middle of lifting it. “Jackson?”
“You don’t like the name?” Jackson glanced over his shoulder at Carter. “Or have you been talking about me?”
“Not really.” But Carter had to admit the reaction was bizarre. She’d stopped moving and seemed to be stuck in some sort of haze. She looked at Jackson, her gaze searching his face as she frowned. “Hanna?”
That snapped her out of whatever emotion had her in its grip. She cleared her throat as she started shuffling again. “I’m sorry. I can come back.”
The confusion and uncertainty surprised Carter. All of yesterday’s anger had vanished but she came off as shaky and unsure. He didn’t know what that meant, but he cared. Of course he did. He couldn’t seem to stop caring about what she was thinking and feeling.
“From where?” Jackson asked.
She slammed to a halt. “What?”
“You’re already on the grounds and in the house. That’s not an easy feat, by the way. That gate out there is no joke. I have a key and a security code and you move around easier than I do.” Jackson kept his voice low and soothing. The tone carried a hint of welcome and amusement. “My point is that it seems easy for you to get in and out, which I assume means you’re staying nearby. Possibly very nearby.”
Carter wanted her closer. In the house, with him, touching him. Needs he’d hidden as he tried to figure her out. “Um...”
“It’s not...” She bit her lower lip. “Yeah.”
Her voice, that stumble. Suddenly, Carter didn’t feel so alone in the battle with his attraction for her. They had so much to talk about and think through, but all of that fell away as he watched the slight blush cover her cheeks. Maybe what they both needed had nothing to do with the past and other people.
Jackson looked back and forth between Carter and Hanna. “For the record, you two are not good at this.”
“What?” she asked.
Jackson waved a hand in front of him. “Whatever this is.”
Silence filled the room. Hanna did a lot of staring—at Jackson, at the hardwood floor and the expensive Oriental rug covering it, at the antique cherry desk Carter sat behind, at the bookshelf on the opposite wall. Finally, she focused on Carter. “Do you trust him?”
Carter appreciated the easy question because everything else between them had gotten so complex. “Completely.”
Jackson let out a long, labored breath. “I can hardly wait to hear what comes next.”
“I’m Hanna Wilde.” She stepped fully into the room and this time shook Jackson’s hand.
Now it was Jackson’s turn to freeze. It only lasted a second. Carter doubted Hanna even noticed. But Jackson wasn’t one to get knocked off stride and that extra beat of hesitation meant he wasn’t expecting to hear that name.
Carter couldn’t help but smile at the idea of Hanna getting the upper hand on Jackson.
“Oh, you’re the one...” Jackson nodded. “Yes, hello.”
She glanced at Carter and he didn’t even try to hide the fact that her name would have clued him in. “He knows my father wanted me to find you.”
Carter expected anger or frustration, maybe some yelling. Instead, she let out what sounded like a resigned sigh before turning back to Jackson.
“Then I can shortcut this.” She stepped closer to the desk. “Carter’s dad wanted me to have this envelope, but I don’t want anything to do with the man or his games. Since my father used to live and work here, Carter offered that I come back to say a final goodbye and collect some of his things. I thought maybe I could also figure out what Eldrick wants without ever having to deal with him again.”
Jackson’s eye widened. “You said it all in one breath.”
“That was impressive.” And Carter meant that.
“Especially since I didn’t expect to say it at all.” Hanna walked over to the chair Jackson had abandoned and sat down. “Me being here is a secret.”
“Okay, I’ll play along. From whom?” Jackson asked.
She shrugged. “You, I guess. And Carter’s brothers.”
“I’m lost,” Jackson said as he leaned against the bookcase next to Hanna’s chair.
Carter empathized. “It’s your turn. I’ve been in that state since I tracked her down.”
She frowned at him. “Like your mental state is my fault.”
Lately it was. Being this close to her, even with Jackson there, sent a spike of energy buzzing through the room. “Well...”
“Okay, let’s go back to the Eldrick part.” Carter braced his hands on the bookshelf behind him. “You don’t know what he wants?”
She shook her head. “No.”
Jackson looked from Hanna to Carter and back again. “Here’s a suggestion, and I admit this may lack finesse, but why don’t you just open the envelope?”
“She doesn’t want to be manipulated.” Carter understood that much.
“The Eldrick piece is only part of it. I also wanted to take care of my dad’s belongings, the stuff Eldrick never turned over.”
Jackson looked more confused, not less. “It’s like you two are talking in code.”
“Bottom line?” Hanna shifted until she faced Jackson. “I don’t trust Carter’s father.”
Carter understood that. It was the part where she didn’t trust him either that kicked him in the gut. He sat there wanting her, spent the night dreaming about her, and he’d bet she could walk away from him and not look back. He hated that. Hated that she refused to confide in him. But he really hated that he cared this much.
“You’re smart to stay away from Eldrick. The guy has a tendency to destroy the people he touches,” Jackson said.
Her eyebrow lifted. “Don’t you work for him?”
Jackson made a humming sound, the same noise he tended to make as he thought through what he wanted to say. “I prefer to think that I work for Derrick.”
Hanna glanced at Carter. “Does he?”
“Yes. We’re hoping that soon Dad will fully retire, hand over the reins and everyone will work for Derrick.”
Carter vowed to do whatever he had to do to make that happen. Unfortunately, the very stubborn, very hot and utterly compelling woman sitting in front of him played a part in that. She hadn’t opened the envelope yet, but he was betting that she would soon. That curiosity would win out.
“Except you, of course.” Jackson mumbled the comment but he got everyone’s attention.
She asked, “Wait, you mean Carter really doesn’t work for the family?”
“Technically, he doesn’t right now.” Jackson smiled.
Their back-and-forth about him without talking to him was more than a little annoying. “He is sitting right here.”
“Well, my response is the same.” Jackson shrugged. “I get not wanting to be manipulated by Eldrick but every day the envelope sits there you have to think about him.”
She didn’t even hesitate. “I made a vow months ago. No more letters from Eldrick.”
“Then I’m out of options.” Jackson pushed away from the bookcase and straightened. “Which means it’s time for me to go.”
Carter decided to interpret the remark for her just in case she didn’t get it. “He plans to run back to my brothers and report that you’re here.”
Jackson walked over to his soggy coat, picked it up and slipped it on. “He’s right.”
The chair practically bounced against the floor as she stood up. “You can’t.”
“Because?” Jackson stopped buttoning the raincoat and waited a few seconds as he shot her a well? look. “See, if you can’t answer that question, then I don’t understand the need to keep the secret.”
“I don’t want Eldrick to know I’m here.” Her voice vibrated as she spoke.
Carter got it and took pity on her. “Then you’re safe.”
“The one thing you’ll figure out about the Jameson brothers, if you don’t already know it—they stick together.” When she started to talk, Jackson talked louder and finished. “And the thing they’re the best at doing is creating a united front against their father.”
She didn’t say anything. Just stared at him. Carter waited for a sharp response but she looked lost in thought, not angry. All signs of yesterday’s frustration had disappeared. He wasn’t sure what that meant but it gave him hope.
“I’ll be off.” Jackson waved to Carter before smiling at Hanna. “Nice to meet you. We’ll see each other soon.”
Her mouth opened and closed a few times before she spoke. “Will we?”
He winked at her as he walked out of the room and disappeared into the hallway. “I can almost guarantee it.”
* * *
Once they were alone again, Hanna turned back to Carter. “I didn’t mean to—”
“Here.”
Carter didn’t know if Jackson still hovered in the hall and he didn’t care. This topic was too important. It had consumed his entire morning because he needed her to believe in him.
She shuffled the paperwork in her hands, paging through it but not spending much time on any one piece. “What am I looking at?”
“Proof. It represents my whereabouts around the time I saw your sister again. My calendar. Some receipts that show where I was and when.” He’d collected and printed off all of it before Jackson came in.
She dropped her hands to her lap. The papers hung loose in her fingers as she stared at him.
He had no idea what that meant, so he kept pushing his case. “I was outside Charlottesville, where your sister lived, for what looks like seven days because I’m missing some verification, but the real answer is three.” He pointed at the receipts resting on her knee. “You can see the plane ticket and the hotel receipts.”
She looked at him for a few more seconds then glanced down. “You stayed in dive motels.”
“What?”
She shook her head. “Nothing.”
“The point is, this big love affair or whatever you think happened between me and Gena isn’t real.” The driving need for Hanna to see him as decent pushed him. “I can’t provide proof that we agreed to hang out for a few days before I left for California because those were discussions without witnesses, but I can give you all of that.”
She balanced the papers on the edge of the desk. Didn’t rifle through them or demand more verification.
“Why did you do this?” Her voice stayed soft. No judgment or anger.
He could ignore the question or come up with some flippant answer. That’s how he usually operated. Kept things shallow. But he needed her to know the truth.
“Because, believe it or not, I care what you think about me.” His hand cramped. When he looked down he realized he had a death grip on the armrest of his desk chair. Easing up, he unwrapped his fingers and let the circulation return to his hand.
“Why?”
He rubbed his right palm. “I wish I knew.”
Hanna visibly inhaled then exhaled. It was as if she were trying to slow her breathing. “She told me... She said you two were...”
Since he dreaded what word she might come up with he used one of his own. “Dating?”
“Something like that.”
“It was nothing like that.” Not even close. He enjoyed talking with Gena but a few hours of that gave way to something else. She moved in a way that was almost erratic. She’d start a conversation, then break it off and start talking about something else. The sentence fragments never connected. She operated in chaos. “Look, I don’t want to tick you off again, but I do have to say your sister was struggling.”
“Struggling how?”
“Operating without boundaries. Nothing seemed to be off-limits.” When he realized he was fidgeting, he folded his hands together on top of the desk. “I was drinking heavily back then and felt the full impact the next morning. She could outdrink me. She would wake up, ready for the next party.”
“She’d never been great with rules but she kind of lost her footing after Dad died.” Hanna’s voice went from eager to listen to sad, sort of resigned. It was as if it were painful for her to say the words.
“I can understand that.”
“You can?” She didn’t sound skeptical. The tone was more like one of genuine interest.
The tension running through him eased. The sense of being on the edge of saying the wrong thing subsided. He hated this subject and never talked about it, but he felt like he owed it to her to explain. “After losing my mom I got hit with this mix of grief and how-could-you-leave-me-here-with-Dad anger and I really didn’t know what to do with it all. My brothers were in college and I hated everything.”
He wondered if Hanna’s reactions now were due to grief, as well. Cancer and suicide weren’t the same but the end result—standing on the sidelines while a loved one died—led to the same grief-soaked place.
“If you think I’m difficult to deal with now, you should have seen how I acted in private back then.” She would have hated him. No question.
“You’re not, you know.”
She completed one of those conversational left turns that put him a few steps behind. “Not what?”
“You’re not that difficult.” It looked as if she were trying to hide a smile but the amusement in her voice gave her away.
The rest of the weight pressing down on him vanished. They hadn’t settled much but he felt as if they’d reached some sort of common ground. That his worries about her viewing him as a useless playboy jerk might not be true.
He decided to test that theory. “Ever since we saw each other again you’ve been—”
“Dealing with your family is difficult.”
Carter continued to rub his palm even though the slicing pain was long gone. “I’m not my father, Hanna.”
“I know.”
He blew out a rough breath. “That might be the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”
“He wouldn’t spend hours or days or whatever you did, tracking down evidence to get me to trust him.” She picked up the top piece of paper, then put it down again. “That’s something.”
Probably too much. Vast overkill and a statement on his difficulties with dealing with people on more than a superficial level. But he wanted deeper with her. He had no idea why, but he did. “It sounds like you might actually like me.”
She laughed as she held up a hand. “Let’s not get carried away.”
In that moment she sounded so free. The light tone sent a shot of need spiraling through him. But wanting her when there was still so much unsaid between them struck him as dangerous. “Is there anything I can do to help with your quest?”
“That’s an interesting word.”
If he knew what she was looking for or what she wanted to prove or avoid he would have chosen his words more carefully. As it was he only knew something was up. He was not the guy people went to for help, but maybe he could give her this before they both moved on, because that was inevitable. “If you find something negative about my father, something you need help with, let me know. We’ll take care of it.”
“What about family loyalty?”
He couldn’t blame her for asking. “That only extends to my brothers, Jackson and a few others.”
“Really?”
When she’d asked a question like that a few days ago, even yesterday, it came with a slap of disbelief. He’d seen it in her eyes and heard it in her voice. But this time it sounded like she wanted confirmation. That he could do it. “Do you know how Derrick ended up at the head of the company?”
She shrugged. “I figured it was a birthright thing.”
He was pretty sure that was a knock on the size of his bank account, but he let it go because they were finally talking. He rarely had a chance to reason through these things with anyone. Letting outsiders into his family dynamic wasn’t an option when you were a part of a family that landed in the news too often.
“He saved the company from my father’s mismanagement and questionable deals. Dad doesn’t really have the ability to distinguish right from wrong.” Which Carter was pretty sure qualified as the biggest understatement he’d ever uttered. “I can give you the details if you want them. Suffice to say, Derrick was ready to go public and burn it all down. Spence and I supported him.”
“But you would have lost everything.”
He got the sense that the state of her bank account didn’t matter much to her except to know she could take care of herself. But her obsession with his money, in terms of believing that it somehow defined him, was a huge frustration for him.
“Not everything, but a lot. But stuff doesn’t matter all that much in the face of right and wrong.”
She shot him an are-you-serious glance. “You do know you’re a Jameson, right?”
“I’m reminded quite often.” By the gossip press. By people at the office. By the estate and now by her.
“Including by me.”
At least she didn’t deny it. He decided to consider that progress.
“So far, yes. I’m hoping to change that. When you look at me I’d like for you to see me and not my father.” He didn’t mean to say the words but he’d never been more serious in his life.
“Lunch would help.”
The turn of topic had his brain misfiring for a second. Then he focused on the lilt in her voice and the half smile she’d worn throughout most of their conversation. Something had happened to change her mood. His had changed, as well. The question was if they could sustain it or if they’d slip back into arguing mode.
“Why, Ms. Wilde. Are you using me for my access to food?”
“I bet there’s a really big kitchen in this house.” She stood up and glanced at him with one eyebrow raised, as if in challenge.
“Wanna see my pots and pans?”
She shook her head. “That’s a terrible line.”
“I have others.” This time when he turned on the charm he intended to show her who he really was. He was not that shallow guy and he was tired of having people think he was. “Come downstairs with me and I’ll let you hear some.”
He got up and came around the side of the desk until he stood in front of her. “Your lines keep getting better.”
He guided her toward the door, ignoring the buzz that moved through him when he put his hand on her lower back. “You are not going to believe how charming I am.”
“Impress me.”
He intended to do just that.