Good Neighbors (Book 1 of the Home Again Series)

by Alyssa Kress

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Erica dropped Liam back at school to attend his fifth period class. She'd judged it best for him to continue his normal routine as if the sky hadn't fallen in on him—again.

  The mask she'd drawn over herself ever since the judge had given her ruling was starting to wear thin as Erica let herself into the house. Judge Devon had done an excellent job of cutting Erica down to size. Everything the judge had said had, unfortunately, been true. Okay, Erica did not actually plan to raid Liam's estate, but that was a detail. She was inadequate, both financially and as a sister. All those years away—she had only once seen Liam in the flesh during that time. Facebook, my butt.

  Still in her business suit, Erica dropped onto the couch in the living room and folded her arms over her chest. She was unable to contain the anger now surging up from the shield she'd put over it. She knew the anger was all directed at herself, which made it particularly unpleasant.

  The doorbell rang.

  Hardly thinking about what she was doing, Erica rose and went to open the front door.

  Brennan stood on her threshold.

  Her chest constricted. He, also, was still in his suit, and he looked amazing. Cool, calm, controlled. Nobody would look at this man and assume he was going to raid the kitty.

  "Hello, Erica," he said in his luscious, deep voice.

  She thought about reminding him of their 'let's avoid each other' edict, but she could understand him disobeying it under the circumstances. "You want to come in?"

  "Please."

  Hopeful that she was not revealing how humiliated she felt, Erica stepped back from the door.

  Brennan walked in.

  After leading the way to the living room, Erica indicated the cushioned chair for Brennan and seated herself back on the couch. What she wanted was solitude in which to lick her wounds, but she had to admit Brennan had some stake in the situation. Since her father's death, Brennan had invested a great deal on Liam's behalf.

  Plus, she should probably listen to whatever advice he had to give. Unlike her, he had his act together.

  "For the record," Brennan began, "I think Judge Devon is as blind as a bat. If she couldn't see all you've sacrificed in order to do what's right for your brother— The woman should be kissing your feet."

  To her surprise, Erica felt a smile tug at her lips. "That would've been something to witness."

  Brennan's mouth kicked into a half smile of his own. "Unfortunately, I suspect that woman wouldn't kiss the feet of God himself."

  Erica laughed out loud. Wow. She certainly hadn't thought she'd be laughing this afternoon.

  "Listen." Brennan leaned forward, his forearms on his knees. "Seriously. What Judge Devon seemed to be concerned about is the appearance of financial independence."

  "Yeah, I got that much." Erica's brief amusement faded.

  "Clint may be right that she's not looking for a miracle. She probably just wants to see you've made some gains in starting up your business. Really, how much does she think a person can accomplish in four weeks?"

  "With this woman, I'm taking no bets."

  An odd gleam came into Brennan's eyes. "Exactly. She's a loose cannon. So it would be better by far if you could present her with a sure thing, a situation she couldn't argue with or belittle."

  Erica frowned. "How is that possible?"

  Brennan inched forward in his seat. "It's possible if we— Listen."

  Listen to what? A buzzing sensation rang in Erica's ears, a warning. Something bad was about to happen. She hoped he wasn't going to offer her a job. She sucked at retail and would cost him more than she brought in.

  "If you were in a financially stable situation, the judge would have to agree you're no threat to Liam's inheritance."

  "Ye-e-s." No, please don't offer me some charity job.

  "You could be in that situation if we got married."

  Married! The buzzing in her ears grew so suddenly loud she could barely hear herself think. She'd only been worried about a pitying job offer. But he'd just suggested marriage. Impossible. Three weeks ago Brennan had rejected her. He'd thought making love to her had been a huge mistake.

  "It would be like...a business deal," Brennan went on. "I wouldn't expect you to fall in love with me—and vice versa."

  No, of course not. Why would anyone fall in love with inadequate Erica? At least the judge's humiliating set down hadn't been personal.

  "Let me understand you." Erica took care not to raise her voice. If she looked angry, he'd win. She'd be even more humiliated. "In order to please the judge and convince her I'm not actually a dirty, rotten, conniving thief, I should...marry you."

  Brennan looked taken aback. "It's not— We all know— We would do it to assure Liam's future."

  Erica nodded slowly. The anger she'd been feeling toward herself earlier was now finding a different target. "Because you don't believe I could do that on my own. No way could Erica Carmichael manage to become financially stable or convince the judge on her own merits."

  "That's not what I—"

  "Of course it's what you meant. But it doesn't matter because big, strong Brennan can take the whole problem on his hefty shoulders."

  Brennan's face went red. "I'm in a position where I can help. That's what I'm offering."

  "Sacrificing yourself in marriage is a little beyond 'help,' Brennan. It's asking for sainthood."

  "I don't think of it as a sacrifice."

  "No? Then why haven't we spoken to each other since we landed in bed?"

  "That was your idea."

  "And you were plenty glad of it."

  Brennan's jaw went tight. Erica was pleased to see he appeared to be getting angry, too—and showing it.

  "I was not glad of the avoiding idea," he claimed. "I like you. I—I'm still attracted to you."

  "Au contraire. You've made it clear you considered our little...interaction to be the biggest mistake you ever made."

  "That's not— You're mischaracterizing. I was—I was—"

  "Mortified? Shocked?"

  "I was scared!" Brennan shouted.

  His words rang into a stunned silence.

  If he hadn't been mortified before, Erica could see he was feeling so now. He clearly hadn't intended to admit his fear. Meanwhile, she couldn't understand it. He'd been scared? Of what?

  Brennan rose swiftly from his seat in the chair. "You're different, okay? I can't feel...safe with you."

  She wasn't sure if she felt more gratified or distressed. She liked being 'different,' but what did he mean that he couldn't feel safe with her? "Okay," she said slowly. "But if I don't feel...safe, then why would you want to marry me?"

  "Because." He paced toward the fireplace. "It would only be a business deal. I wouldn't need you."

  Erica's lashes lowered halfway. "No, I'd be the one needing you."

  At the fireplace, he winced. "Okay. Maybe. That shifts the balance of power, yeah."

  Erica was starting to get a dim picture of his goal. He wanted to be the hero, and he was determined to do it by maintaining power and control—doling her charity. She was to have no power over him, not even this dubious power of making him scared.

  She had no idea where he thought sex fit into this picture.

  A headache stabbed behind her forehead. She wasn't so low and so incapable that she had to accept charity, particularly when it was coming in the form of a martyr sacrifice. She could take care of herself, and she could take care of Liam. In fact, she was determined to prove it.

  "Go," she told Brennan.

  "Erica—"

  She put her hands to her forehead. Her headache was starting to concentrate, putting tremendous pressure on her eyes. It occurred to her that this was her first marriage proposal. Too bad it was such a rotten one. Brennan apparently didn't want her love even if she were willing to give it to him. "I'm not going to marry you. So you can go."

  He hesitated.

  She didn't take her hands away so she couldn't see him, but she could s
ense his eyes on her, could hear the arguments he was lining up.

  She readied herself for battle. No way was he going to win.

  He stilled. Did he sense her determination? Apparently so, for the next thing Erica knew, he quietly walked out of the living room. She heard his steps in the front hall and then the door opening...and closing.

  He was gone.

  Now alone, she felt the pressure against her eyes increase. Ever since coming out here to watch her father die, she'd been trying to do the right thing, but it had all turned to crap. Was it any wonder Brennan would offer her a loveless marriage and assume she'd be desperate enough to take him up on it?

  I am not going to cry.

  It required a major effort, but Erica managed to refrain from tears. She sucked it up: all of it, the judge and her accusations, Brennan and his assumption of her inadequacy. Drawing in a very deep breath, she finally lowered her hands from her forehead.

  She stood up and walked into the dining room where her business files lay spread over the table. She had things to do.

  And a ton of customers to rustle up before the next court date in four weeks.