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us. I’d hate for my thoughtlessness to ruin our working relationship.”

      “It’s fine, Carson. Please. Things happen when you work closely with someone. Besides that,” she admitted reluctantly, “I wasn’t exactly fighting you off.”

      “Georgia?”

      She’d avoided his gaze once their lips parted and she saw his inevitable regret, but the pleading, husky sound of his voice as he said her name made her look back at him. The regret was gone and there was a fire in his eyes now as he looked at her. His jaw was tight. With an expression like that, she would say he desired her, but that couldn’t possibly be right. That kiss was a mistake and they both knew it. Right? “Yes?”

      “I—”

      A hard buzz against Georgia’s breast startled her. At the same time, a chirp sounded from Carson’s suit pocket, interrupting what he was about to say. It was their office phones.

      Georgia swallowed her disappointment, turned her back to him and reached into her blouse to retrieve her phone. She always kept it on silent, tucked away in her shirt so she would know when she got a call without interrupting business. When she looked down, the message on the screen nearly devastated her.

      “Sutton Winchester has announced plans to build luxury waterfront condos here,” Carson said.

      Georgia clicked on the link to the news article his administrative assistant, Rebecca, had sent them both. She’d left the information on the property with Rebecca in case Brooks or Graham came in and asked where they were. Instead she’d used it to uncover their competition. The story was accompanied by an image of the fancy development they planned to build on the spot where they were standing. The article noted that Sutton’s offer on the land hadn’t been accepted yet, but he was confident that it would be, and he was rallying support for the project. Below the artist’s rendering of the buildings was a picture of Sutton Winchester.

      Georgia had no doubt Sutton must have been able to charm any woman he wanted when he was a younger man. He had quite the reputation where women were concerned even now, despite his age and longtime marriage to Celeste Van Houten. Georgia could see why. His light brown hair was mostly gray now and wrinkles lined his face, but his green eyes were still bright, and his dimpled smile exuded confidence. Fortunately Georgia knew to stay far away from the likes of Winchester. He was an underhanded bastard in business dealings. He bribed, seduced and lied to get his way, screwing over the Newport Corporation on more than one occasion and putting a handful of other companies out of business entirely.

      Georgia let her phone drop to her side and turned back to face Carson. Their kiss faded into her distant memory as she focused on their next steps.

      There was a steely determination set into his expression when he looked at her. “We need to move quickly. I can’t—I won’t—let that bastard Sutton steal this out from under us.”

      * * *

      “There’s no way in hell you can let Winchester have our land,” Graham complained.

      Carson reached over the back of his leather sofa, handed his older brother a bowl of hot buttered popcorn and rolled his eyes. He was hoping they wouldn’t spend tonight talking about this, but it was clear Graham wasn’t going to let it go. “You think I don’t know that?”

      “Has our offer gone in yet?” Graham’s twin, Brooks, asked. The older brothers were identical, each a good two inches taller than Carson with shaggy blond hair and aqua eyes. It was easy for Carson to tell his brothers apart, though. Brooks’s brow was always furrowed with concern and thought. He had that exact expression now as he tried to balance the three bottles of microbrew that he brought with him from the kitchen.

      Carson nodded and went back through his dining room to the kitchen to grab a bag of M&M’S and a box of Twizzlers off the quartz bar. “We called and submitted the offer while we were still standing in the field. The seller’s attorney was mum about other offers they’d received, including Winchester’s. There’s no way to know if what we’ve submitted is on par with the others, so all we can do is wait and see if they come back with a counteroffer before they make a final decision.”

      Carson settled on the couch beside his brothers. “Now, can we please let this unpleasant conversation drop so we can enjoy The Maltese Falcon in peace?”

      “Fine,” Graham muttered and shoved a handful of popcorn into his mouth.

      It was the first Thursday of the month, and that meant it was movie night in the Newport family. Since they were small, they’d gathered on the couch with their mother and Gerty to watch old black-and-white movies on AMC. Gerty, a widow, had worked with their mother at a café where they waitressed together before Carson was born. When Gerty retired, she’d invited Cynthia and her boys to live with her. The apartment their mother could afford was tiny and she had three growing boys who needed room to roam. Gerty didn’t like being in her big house all alone and welcomed the family.

      She wasn’t blood, but Gerty had been the only family they had besides each other. For reasons their mother had never wanted to discuss, their father and the rest of their family were out of the picture. As Carson and his brothers got older and pushed, Cynthia had told them only that their father was abusive and she ran away to protect them all. They were better off without him in their lives, she insisted, and she made them promise not to seek him out.

      For a long time, the boys had been saddened but content with that answer. They wouldn’t want to hurt their mother by seeking out a dangerous man who would only make them regret it. Besides, they had their spunky pseudo grandmother Gerty and their mother. They didn’t need anyone else.

      Then they lost Gerty to cancer when they were in high school. She’d left them enough money to go to college and make something of themselves. Carson and his brothers had done just that, starting the Newport Corporation and becoming wealthier than they ever imagined by developing real estate in Chicago. They couldn’t have done it without Gerty, so they honored her memory by drinking beer and watching the old favorites once a month.

      “Double the offer,” Graham insisted as he picked up the television remote and started the film.

      “We can’t afford that,” Brooks argued, ever the voice of reason between the twins. Without him, Graham would’ve gotten himself into trouble with some crazy scheme long before now.

      “We can find the money somewhere,” Graham said, pausing the movie before it had even begun.

      Carson sighed. He knew better than to think Graham would simply shut up about it. When he got an idea in his head, he wouldn’t let it go. He was like a bulldog with a bone, which made him a great attorney, but a pain as a brother. Graham was the corporate attorney for the Newport Corporation, although he spent most of his time working at his law firm, Mayer, Mayer and Newport. Brooks was their chief operations officer but spent most days working remotely from his mansion on Lake Michigan. Carson was the CEO, running the company they’d started together, but that didn’t stop his brothers from putting their two cents into every decision he made.

      “Sure thing,” Carson agreed. “We can start by firing our attorney and making him return his corporate car.”

      “Hey!” Graham complained. He shoved a sharp elbow into Carson’s ribs.

      Carson returned the elbow, making his brother howl and scramble to the far side of the couch. He was used to the physical and mental bullying that being the younger brother entailed, but he’d learned to fight back a long time ago. Now that they were in their thirties, it hadn’t changed much. “You said to find the money. You didn’t say where. Now, will you let it go so we can watch the movie?”

      Graham scowled and picked up his beer from the coffee table. “Fine.”

      Brooks grabbed the remote from Graham and hit the play button. As the opening credits were still playing, Graham studied his bottle and said, “You know, Gerty would whup our asses for drinking this highbrow beer.”

      This time, Carson snorted aloud. He was right. Gerty preferred to watch

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