Jennifer Morey - The Marine's Temptation

“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.

Chapter 3

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 have a knack for fashion.”

She cocked her head. “Shopping is a fun stress reliever for me. And I like putting outfits together. It doesn’t have anything to do with money.”

He gave her a skeptical look and then guided her to the seats in front of their gate. She must spend a wad each time she went out to buy a new outfit. He couldn’t wait to see what she wore next—and he disagreed. A woman could shop a lot more with money. She had to have money to put those outfits together. Was she being defiant when she said it had nothing to do with money? Suppressing an inner craving to spend, spend, spend? He could have some fun with that, shower her with luxuries and see if she liked it. Starting with right now, as soon as they boarded.

Georgia slipped her purse off her shoulder and placed it on the seat next to her. He’d checked his carry-on since she’d had two bags. They were traveling light as a result. He sat beside her, trying not to overtly notice her thigh in the snug jeans as she crossed one sexy leg over the other.

“Why do you have to meet with your ex-commander?”

So far she hadn’t tried to pry information out of him. He’d told her they’d stop in Camp Lejeune, North Carolina, first, before heading to Raleigh, and that was all. Now he realized she’d strategically waited until she had him alone. Maybe now she could get him to talk.

“He’s got some things he wants to discuss in person about my last mission and since the mission was classified, we have to meet in a SCIF. Sergeant Major Mark Copeland of the 2nd Marine Special Operations Battalion was a hands-on kind of man and had been upset over the failed mission.”

“What’s a skiff?”

“Sensitive Compartmented Information Facility, a secure office or meeting facility where classified information can be processed or discussed.”

As she tipped her head to the side and smiled her intrigue, her dark red hair slipped down from her shoulder, shiny and thick. “You have a clearance?”

Was he ruining her disparaging opinion of him? “Top secret.”

“Why do you think that man who shot at you is connected to your mission?”

He couldn’t discuss most of it. “If you had a clearance, I could bring you to my meeting and tell you.”

“Does Whit have a clearance?”

He’d discussed everything with Whit. “Yes.” AdAir Corp had a SCIF on-site. Carson could have talked to his commander from there, but his commander wanted him to meet in person because he had some intel to share. That meant they’d continued their surveillance after Carson had come home. He was encouraged by that. He’d had a hard time leaving after the mission in Myanmar failed.

“Why didn’t your mission go as planned?” she asked.

“We were discovered,” he said. “To this day, we don’t know how.” That was pretty much all he could say.

“You were attacked?”

“Yes.” His mind started wandering where he didn’t want it. Seeing Georgia catching the change in him, he faced forward and hoped she’d drop the subject.

“What happened?”

“It’s classified.”

She eyed him awhile, her smart librarian brain adding things up. “Not all of it’s classified.”

No, but he still wasn’t going to talk about it.

“Did your father know you were shot?”

He wondered why she would ask such a question. “Yes. He was killed after that.” He recalled the last conversation he’d had with him. He had still been in the hospital and his father had called, insisting on speaking with him.