“It’s all right, Angel.” He offered a small smile, not a trace of his trademark arrogance or intentionally deepened southern accent in sight. “It’s only you and me here.”
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and dropped her head. “My dad…my grandparents…they spend all their time being cheerful to my mom’s face, but I see them. When they turn away, when they walk out of her room. A piece of each of them is dying with her. So I-I just never cry in front of them. I want them to believe I’m okay.”
Wyatt hooked a finger under her chin. “It’s okay to not be okay sometimes.”
Georgia couldn’t help the upturn of her lips. “Yeah, I guess.”
“You should do that more often. You’ve got one hell of a smile.”
Heat rose in her cheeks and she jumped off the bench. “Thanks for, ya know, not…I mean…just…” She sighed heavily. “Just, thanks.”
He tipped the brim of his ever-present hat slightly, and every ounce of the Rhinestone Cowboy persona slipped back into place. “Anytime, Angel.”
She spun on her heels and walked a few feet away before she paused and turned back. “Georgia.”
Confusion colored his face and he shook his head slightly. “Georgia?”
“My name is Georgia.” She all but sprinted out of the park, across the street, and far from the stupid freaking cowboy.
Chapter Seven
Wyatt
Present Day
Wyatt stood a few feet outside of the conference room door, staying as silent and inconspicuous as possible. A smile tugged at his lips as Gigi directed people with ease and confidence.
She was brilliant. She was commanding. She was stunning.
He was so damn proud of her he thought his chest would burst. She’d always had a quiet strength about her—and a smart mouth that made him want her like no one else—but this side of Gigi was nothing short of awe-inspiring.
Just then her eyes lifted from the boards spread out on the long oak table and caught him staring at her. Her down-turned mouth curled up and she motioned for him to come in.
As soon as he crossed the threshold, she schooled her features. The smile left the mouth that had been haunting his memory for days, fixing into a straight line. Her shoulders squared and her all too perceptive gaze swung around the room. Wyatt had to stifle a chuckle when he saw each employee all but stand at attention. Damn, his Gigi was impressive.
“Mr. Carlisle, please come in and have a seat.” The corners of her lips twitched and her hazel eyes sparkled as she sat on the opposite side of the long table.
Wyatt didn’t bother to hide his grin at her faux professionalism. Hell, it was pretty damn hot; he had no reason to complain. “Thank you, Ms. Marsh.” He tilted the brim of his hat in her direction and took the chair opposite her.
Her minions took their seats, flanking each side of her, their expressions an open mixture of reverence and fear. And he understood both. His Gigi had always been a force to be reckoned with.
As she launched into her speech, Wyatt fought to keep his eyes on the design boards and the digital images on the tablet in front of him. He couldn’t allow his gaze to linger on the hint of cleavage visible at the V of the soft pink camisole she wore beneath her suit jacket. Or her glistening rosy lips.
He’d grossly underestimated the power of an all-grown-up Gigi. The body he’d tentatively teased as a teenager only taunted him more now with her soft curves. It took nearly all of his power to focus on her words and not kick her staff out of the room to spread her across the oak table and…
Wyatt clenched his jaw and shifted in his seat. Not the time or place.
He zeroed in on the images she was swiping across the touch screen and frowned. He’d given her his business plan, his layouts, hell, he’d even given her a list of already secured sponsors for the first competition he’d be hosting next year. And yet looking at the designs in front of him, it seemed like she hadn’t paid a damn bit of attention to any of it. Bright, neon colors nearly blinded him from half the designs and…was that a cartoon bull?
He never imagined when he set the appointment with Elias Joseph that the “brilliant marketing savant” he raved about was none other than the Dark Angel who haunted his dreams. Wyatt knew he had handled their first meeting poorly, but he hadn’t been ready. The plan had been to get his ranch humming and prove to Gigi that he wasn’t just a cowboy before the begging and long overdue explanations commenced.
And the house. He wanted her to see the house he’d designed with her in mind. Something she would love.
But whatever twisted fate created the situation where he was working closely with Gigi to build his brand and launch a new and much more fulfilling career was obviously a cursed one. Now here he sat, weighted with the responsibility of complaining—again—about the designs her team set before him. Nearly everything she was showing him missed the mark of what he envisioned, and he had no way to tell her without looking like a total ass.
His phone vibrated in his shirt pocket, and the name flashing across his screen only served to heighten his frustration. Dammit, when would Jim stop calling?
“Ms. Marsh, could we please have a moment alone?” He forced the irritated tone from his voice. He bitterly wondered if she’d even looked at anything in the packet he’d given her.
Gigi’s brows drew together, but she flicked her left wrist. “Give me a minute with Mr. Carlisle.”
They all obediently filed out the door behind Wyatt’s chair. All accept the faux timid little brunette who had already tried his patience when she showed up on his doorstep looking for more than just his approval on sketches. She moved from her seat to round the table and stand far too close for comfort.
“Could I get you anything before I go, Wyatt?” She dropped her voice into what he could only assume she intended to be a sultry tone and bent at the waist. The top three buttons of her blouse were undone, and what he could only assume was the result of a push-up bra was showing off its contents through the gaping opening. If this was meant to be a temptation, she fell about three thousand feet short. And she didn’t hold a candle to Gigi. “Coffee? Water?”
He locked his gaze with Gigi, intentionally ignoring the girl to his right. He threw Gigi an “I-told-you-so” look and hoped she could read him as well as she did when they were kids.
“I’ll be sure to buzz you if Mr. Carlisle or I need anything, Jenny. Thank you.” Her cool, dismissive tone reminded him of the smartass, closed-off teen Gigi that captured his heart, and he couldn’t help but smile in spite of his irritation and deep disappointment.
No, he hadn’t expected Gigi, but if anyone could catch his vision, it would be her.
When the door clicked behind him, he leaned forward over the table. “Please tell me you didn’t actually approve this.”
“Well, I certainly don’t approve of her obvious flirting with our newest client, hell, any client. That is a ‘get your ass handed to you’ kind of fireable offense in my world. It will most assuredly be dealt with immediately or she will find herself in need of a new internship. I swear she must have missed business ethics or else attended a subpar program because—”
“I mean these.” His hand swept across the table. “These don’t even come close to representing my brand and what I want my training facility to look like.” He propped an elbow on the arm of his chair and rubbed his temple. The exhaustion of creating the ranch and all the extras that went along with it weighed heavy on his shoulders.
A brief flash of hurt flew across her face before her expression settled into something indecipherable. “I’m sorry, Wyatt. Normally I would have looked them over closer, been more diligent but—” Her teeth sank into her bottom lip, silencing her words.
His every sense went on high alert. “But what, Gigi?”
She shook her head and blinked rapidly. “Nothing.”
He tried. He tried so hard to keep his hands to himself, but it never really worked around her. He reached across the table and
laced his fingers through hers. “Not nothing.”
Gigi opened and closed her mouth several times before she sighed and slumped back in her chair. “Gram is…sick. It was…a rough night, and when I got her calmed down, I was exhausted and just passed out.”
Memories of their high school days and the disease that claimed her mother filtered through his mind. And everything made a lot more sense. “By sick…” He left the question hanging in the air, concerned the very word would still hold the same power over her it had in their adolescent years.
“No.” She shook her head violently. “Not cancer.” She pressed her palms to her cheeks and slid them down. “Alzheimer’s. Some days it’s barely noticeable, but others…”
Wyatt could see the invisible mantle of responsibility weighing on her shoulders just as he had when he was younger. And just as it had back then, his mind whirled with ideas. He’d intended to come home and win her back, to prove if she could trust him again he’d do his damnedest to not screw it up, but now…now he was adding another objective to the mission. Bring back the twinkle in her eyes. Maybe… “How about a tour, Gigi?”
The slight jump when he spoke attested to her preoccupation and cemented his decision.
“Of my office?”
He smiled at the curious note in her tone. “No, my training facility. Not like the other day, come out and really see it. Take a full tour.” He brushed an invisible piece of lint off his shoulder and winked at her. “With the best damn tour guide in the state of North Carolina, naturally.” He leaned forward and grasped her hand again. “Please, Gigi.”
Heat radiated from the hazel depths as she tightened her hold on him. “I read every word of your proposal and looked at all the blueprints. It was…impressive.”
With a shake of his head, he released her hand and walked around the table, pulling out the seat beside her. “No, you need to see it. See all of it. You need to come out, ride the property with me, look at what’s there, and what they’re building. I need you to see what I see.” He rested a hand on her knee, and her eyes followed the motion and fixed on their connection.
Gigi’s gaze snapped up and locked with his. “I-I can’t. That-that…I can’t, Wyatt.”
He dropped his voice and ditched the accent that always drove her crazy. “Please, Angel.”
The avalanche of emotion sweeping over her face started with something that looked almost like fear before settling into resignation. “When?”
His fingers slowly trailed beneath her black skirt, and she sucked in a sharp breath of air. He caressed the satin skin on the inside of her thigh. “Saturday?”
Her hand curled around his forearm, halting his progress. “Yes, but this can’t happen.”
“I know I screwed up, but I promise if you give me a chance…” He twined his fingers through hers and pulled their joined hands into his lap, his voice tapering off into silence as he cursed himself. This needed to be about her. What she wanted. Not just winning her back, not just gaining her trust, but giving her something else besides the weight of caring for someone she loved. All of that would only come through honesty. “Gigi, there was a reason.”
“I don’t give a damn about your reason.” The icy edge to her tone sliced through Wyatt’s heart with clean precision. “You are my client. This. Can’t. Happen. Not now, not Saturday. You can’t show up at my house and kiss me senseless in the middle of the night and disappear again. We have a strictly business relationship this time around. That’s all I have to give you.”
At the rattle of the closed door, they both jumped, and Wyatt scooted away from Gigi. That same overly affectionate intern swished in, a large tray cradled in her arms. What was her name again? Janet? Jessica?
“Jenny, what are you doing?”
The pointedly sharp tone of Gigi’s voice even made Wyatt nervous. Poor girl was pushing her boss’s buttons worse than he did. Yeah, he loved ruffling Gigi’s feathers, but he knew where and when to stop. Clearly she did not.
An innocent expression Wyatt would bet was more fake than her lingerie-enhanced cleavage settled on Jenny’s face and her pale eyes widened. “I thought Wyatt might have changed his mind about a drink.” She set the beverage-laden black, plastic rectangle on the table. “Oh, and you too, Ms. Marsh.”
Gigi’s lids drifted closed and her nostrils flared once. Twice. Three times before she opened her eyes again. “This is Mr. Carlisle, Jenny. And he already told you he did not want a drink. We are currently discussing how we can better meet his needs as our client, and I would appreciate no additional interruptions.”
The younger woman’s complexion paled, and she offered a jerky nod before backing out of the room.
Gigi cradled her head in her hands as soon as the click of the latch echoed through the room and she groaned. “Havoc. You create havoc and chaos and insanity, Wyatt Carlisle.”
He reached between her arms to grasp her chin and force her gaze to meet his. “And fun, Gigi. We always had fun. See ya Saturday.”
***
Georgia
He couldn’t make anything easy.
Georgia grumbled to herself the entire drive to Wyatt’s ranch. Not only was she working on a weekend and not only had she finally agreed to spend very loosely labeled “professional” time with Wyatt away from the office, but taking the day away from her grandmother meant carefully arranging for a care provider in her absence. As much as her father did, his own business required he be present at least occasionally, and today was one of those days.
A shard of pain sliced through her chest as she passed beneath the arch signaling her arrival at RA Ranch. The loss of her grandfather two years earlier not only sped up her grandmother’s mental decline, it necessitated her return home to give her father some added support to take care of the woman he came to love as much as his own mother. Fortunately it came on the heels of the second most painful breakup of her life and made her almost grateful to leave Tampa, the place she was once so desperate to return to.
She took a deep breath and pocketed her cell phone before exiting the car. He had four hours. That was as long as she could afford to spend away from home; Paige and her dad both had plans. And they’d learned from experience that Gram needed to have supervision. A shudder shook her body. One lightly charred kitchen wall was enough to teach them that lesson.
Rounding the corner into the barn, Georgia wasn’t surprised to see Wyatt saddling horses. She knew him well enough, really too well considering how long they’d been apart, to think that he’d take anything but a horse out for their little show and tell.
“What are the saddlebags for?” She quirked the corner of her mouth up a little, certain he’d be surprised she still knew what she was talking about.
He spun around and Georgia fought the urge to jump into his arms. She wasn’t a teenager anymore. He wasn’t the only guy she’d been with. She’d had half a dozen boyfriends since Wyatt Carlisle’s abrupt departure from her life. She blinked slowly at the image of Bruce’s wide, dazzling grin barreling through her mind.
She tugged on the blue plaid flannel shirt she’d brought along to keep the sun from burning her skin. Right now she needed its protection from the chills engulfing her spine as Wyatt’s blatantly appreciative gaze washed over her. His eyes zeroed in on the glittering dark skull on the front of her black and gray striped tank top and grinned.
“Good afternoon, Gigi.” He reached a hand out to pat the tan leather draped over the horse. “We’re gonna need to eat, aren’t we?”
Georgia pressed her lips together. “This is not a date. We’ve been over this. Business only.”
The cocky grin she loved to loathe slid smoothly into place. “We can call it a business lunch if that makes you feel better, Angel.”
She rolled her eyes and bit back a farewell as she leaned against the wall of the barn. If she could negotiate boardroom deals with aging, chauvinistic men, she could handle one stupid freaking cowboy. “So where’s my horse?”
He r
an a hand over the draft horse’s chestnut-colored coat. “Right here. Jake is strong enough to carry both of us.” He dipped his chin and cut her a sideways look filled with desire. “And you always did like wrapping your arms around me. Tight.”
Don’t sigh. Don’t moan. Don’t close your eyes, and whatever the hell you do, don’t remember. Georgia shook her head after her brief internal coaching exercise. “Nope, I want my own horse.”
She crossed the few feet and, completely ignoring Wyatt, focused on the giant beast. Jake lowered his head as she approached, and she leaned her forehead against his. “You are a beautiful boy, aren’t you?” Georgia couldn’t help the smirk she threw toward Wyatt. “You’re right, Cowboy. I think Jake and I will work out just fine. Go saddle up something else for yourself.”
His brows drew together and he shook his head. “He’s eighteen hands high and weighs over two thousand pounds. I’ll get you Sunshine. She’s more your speed. Calmer, smaller, and good for a beginner. Something that won’t throw ya from six and a half feet.”
Jake nuzzled against her shoulder as she stroked his mane, and Georgia laughed. “Sorry, Cowboy, you’ve been outvoted.” She focused in on the horse again. “Yes, Jake, you are a special boy. You’d never hurt me, would you?” The horse snorted and stomped his foot in response. Georgia could have sworn he glared at Wyatt for implying he’d throw her. The disdain radiating off the massive creature was adorable and completely entertaining.
Wyatt stormed off, deeper into the barn, muttering under his breath. After several long moments slamming things around while Georgia resisted the urge to mount the horse and ride away without him to prove she was no beginner, Wyatt emerged with a sleek black horse that sported a matching flowing mane. “Fine. Let’s go.”
Meant To Be Different Page 5
