She never intended to go home again.

  Only the news that her father is on his deathbed could bring Los Angeles physical trainer Erica Carmichael back to the town she'd wanted to forget and the parent who'd made her childhood a nightmare with his drunken rages. Her plans for a brief trip home to bid him a wary farewell are quickly complicated, however, by her discovery she's now guardian of her teenage brother. She's well and truly stuck. It might be some consolation that the man next door is handsome and attractive, but Erica doesn't trust her growing feelings for the fellow. He's too good to be true.

  Sporting goods store owner Brennan Swift is saddened by the passing of his neighbor, a mentor to him in more ways than one. Now Brennan feels responsible for the disposition of his friend's orphaned youngest son. Unfortunately, this involves dealing with the prickly Erica. Brennan is dismayed by his instant attraction to her. He can't afford an involvement. He particularly can't get involved with a woman who doesn't believe in the possibility of a man's redemption - for Brennan has his own dark history.

  GOOD NEIGHBORS

  (Book 1 of the Home Again Series)

  by Alyssa Kress

  Copyright 2016 Alyssa Kress

  Cover Design Copyright 2016

  by https://coversbykaren.com

  Discover these and other titles by Alyssa Kress at her webpage, https://www.alyssakress.com

  Marriage by Mistake

  The Heart Heist

  The Indiscreet Ladies of Green Ivy Way

  Asking For It

  Love and the Millionairess

  Working on a Full House

  Your Scheming Heart

  I Gotta Feeling

  The Fiancée Fiasco

  If I Loved You

  That'll Be the Day

  A Perfect Knave

  Call it Love

  and the collection of all 12 nonfree books:

  Dangerous Men and Determined Women

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, then please visit https://www.alyssakress.com to find licensed retailers from whom you can purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the work of this author.

  The characters and events in this book are fictitious, even those referring to actual or well-known entities. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Acknowledgements

  The author would like to thank everyone who has given immense support and help in creating this and other stories: Julie Woolley, Kathy Bennett, Jenna Ives, Leigh Court.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Other Books by Alyssa Kress

  Preview of Just Friends (Book 1 of the Home Again Series)

  CHAPTER ONE

  Note to self: next time you return unannounced after ten years, make sure someone's going to be home.

  Erica stood before the new paneled wood door with the stained glass insert—stained glass!—and decried her own lack of foresight. She'd told her brother Clint she'd drive to Palmwood from Los Angeles after he'd warned her their father probably didn't have much longer to live, but she hadn't been very specific about her arrival time.

  Now she stood on the front porch with no way to get inside a house she barely recognized. For God's sake, there were roses growing by the steps, and the lawn was actually green. When she'd lived here, the front yard had been predominantly dirt. There certainly hadn't been any flowers.

  "Damn," she breathed. The sun had just set, and a chill was creeping into the air. The cotton jacket she wore over her T-shirt wasn't designed for high-desert evenings when the temperature could plummet thirty degrees.

  Probably everyone was at the hospital. Probably she ought to get this over with and go there, too. She'd come this far, might as well go all the way. Emotional insurance. That's what she'd told herself she was taking out by rescheduling her physical training clients for a week and driving back to a town and a person she'd never cared to see again. She was making sure it wouldn't haunt her for the rest of her life that she hadn't said goodbye to her father, though even he would have to admit he hadn't earned this much devotion.

  "Erica? Hello, are you Erica?" The voice came from the house next door. It was a deep, masculine voice.

  Erica turned to see a tall man waving to her from the edge of a wide, railed porch. Light from his open door put him in silhouette so she couldn't see his face.

  "Are you Erica?" he asked again.

  "Um..." The house that used to be next door was gone. A two-story, crafted-wood deal now sat in its place. She was pretty sure the man who'd just hailed her was nobody she'd ever met. He had broad shoulders and was wearing a button-down shirt and jeans.

  "Liam's over here with me," the man told her, apparently assuming she was Erica, after all, since he mentioned the name of her youngest brother. "Why don't you come on in?"

  She really should have nailed Clint down on specifics. Why was her teenage brother in the house of this stranger? Surely Liam should have been with Clint. "Um...okay." Erica turned and descended the steps of the renovated porch and walked her tooled cowboy boots across the two driveways toward the silhouetted man.

  "I'm Brennan Swift," he explained as she approached the bottom of his porch steps.

  "Uh, Erica Carmichael, but I guess you figured as much."

  Erica could now see him better. He wore a warm smile on a face of regular, if not downright handsome, features. His dark hair looked a week or so behind on a haircut. When she got close enough, he held out his hand and shook hers. He had a firm grip.

  "Please come in. I'll tell Liam you're here."

  The man did nothing to indicate a negative opinion of Erica: no wince, no squint, no subtle lowering of eyelids. Quite the contrary, he seemed perfectly amiable.

  It didn't matter. Her imagination supplied the fellow with all the judgments her father's neighbor might make, should he know the bare facts. She was the daughter who'd left at age eighteen and never looked back. She was the one who never called, emailed, or visited her last remaining parent. True, she'd stayed in touch with her two younger brothers, but she'd certainly not done so with her father.

  She felt her shoulders lift slightly as she followed Brennan Swift into the house.

  The ceiling rose two stories, soaring over an open-plan living area. Erica got the impression of a lot of hand-crafted wood details elegantly executed. Had Clint done the work? Whoever had, some serious money had been involved. A stair wound around the side of the room and up to a railed walkway, presumably leading to some bedrooms.

  The place gave the same impression as the man who'd led her in: unself-conscious confidence. She felt a familiar, and she knew completely unreasonable, resentment. While growing up with an alcoholic father, confidence had been hard to come by. Still was.

  The neighbor now went over to the foot of the scrolled staircase. "Liam!" he shouted, looking upward. "Your sister's here!"

  "What?" came a muffled voice from abov
e. It wasn't a voice Erica recognized. Except for one visit to her apartment in Los Angeles from Clint and Liam about four years ago, she hadn't seen either of her brothers, in the flesh, since leaving home. She was a little taken aback, truth be told, to hear the tones of a man rather than a boy.

  "Your sister. Erica. She's here!"

  "Oh." A pause. "Wow."

  Wow? Erica blinked a few times, surprised by the indication of enthusiasm. She tried to keep in touch, but it wasn't as though she'd ever been a real sister to Liam. He'd only been five when she'd left.

  "Erica." A lanky youth appeared at the upstairs railing, his brown hair overgrown and scruffy. He had earbuds in but pulled them out. He was smiling. Dimly, he looked like the most recent photo Erica had seen of him from Clint's Facebook page. "You came," Liam breathed.

  In that moment Erica felt like the most self-absorbed creature in the universe for having ever considered not coming. Her fifteen-year-old brother seemed to want her here.

  "I'm so glad," Liam said and rushed down the stairs. Once he reached her, he embraced her.

  Astonished, she did her best to hug him back.

  "Thank you," Liam murmured. "Thank you for coming."

  The lingering guilt was beginning to grow like a cloud. She'd been the most absent sibling she could possibly get away with.

  Meanwhile, she was aware of Brennan Swift, the neighbor, watching.

  "Are you planning to stay in town?" Swift asked, once Liam had released Erica. "Liam's been bedding here. You're more than welcome to do so as well."

  Really? Erica's brows dipped. They'd met, like, five seconds ago.

  Brennan lowered his eyes. "Your father's a good friend of mine." He looked up again. "I consider his family my own."

  Erica's frown only deepened. Her father had friends? Close ones? It was hard to imagine. "I'm sure that's very, uh, nice of you, but I don't know. I really hadn't planned..." Anything. She'd left in such emotional disarray that she'd neglected to determine a number of critical details. In the back of her mind, she'd probably assumed she'd stay in her father's house. She'd thought Liam would be there, too, with— "Where's Clint?"

  Brennan glanced toward Liam. A silent communication passed between the two of them.

  "Clint is...having some issues," Brennan carefully explained. "He didn't think it would be a good idea for Liam to be around until he can, uh, resolve them."

  Issues. A powerful shaft of fear struck Erica. Not— Surely Clint would know better than to go that route. Hoarsely, she asked, "What's the problem?"

  "Uh..." Brennan was clearly hesitant to blab, but a look of horror came into his expression when he caught Erica's eye. "Oh, no. Not drugs or alcohol— It's marital issues. He's having some problems with his wife."

  "Soon to be ex-wife," Liam muttered. "We hope."

  "Oh." At least it wasn't alcohol. But Erica'd had no idea Clint's marriage was in trouble. She'd actually never met Clint's wife, Judy. They'd married in a big hurry two years ago, and Clint rarely mentioned her when he called or emailed. But if the two of them were having difficulties, then it made sense Liam would be staying with a neighbor instead of with his older brother in an unsettled household.

  But what was Erica supposed to do?

  The Brennan fellow again seemed to sense what she was thinking. He spoke slowly. "I suppose...you and Liam can move back into your father's house." He glanced toward Liam. "Now that your sister's here, you can go back home, to your own room and everything."

  Liam brightened. "You're right. Not that I can't take care of myself perfectly well," the teen assured Erica. "I make my own meals and do laundry and everything. But people would freak out if I were living without an adult."

  Hold the phone. What was going on here? They were moving her in, setting her up as some sort of parent. She'd only thought of staying a week at the very most. In fact, she had a client scheduled for next Wednesday.

  But it was impossible to miss the relief in Liam's eyes. He was no longer alone, depending on the kindness of strangers. Besides, what could she say? Oh, no, perfect stranger, supposed friend of my father, you take responsibility for my little brother, not me?

  She met the neighbor's gaze. Once again, her imagination had him judging her as if he were somehow in possession of the facts: she was the absent sister, left home and Liam—a very young child—with an uncertainly sober father, had since then barely laid eyes on the kid, who was now about to lose his only parent. And even at this moment she was hesitating about being the responsible adult in the house when clearly nobody else was currently available.

  Irritation crept through her like an ant army. What about Alex? Shouldn't the Brennan Swift of her imagination also condemn the oldest brother, Alex? He'd left home, too, never looking back. Worse than that, though, he'd never contacted anybody, ever, but had completely disappeared. Yep, after setting himself up as the one toward whom they all looked up, the hero, the chief. Heck, Erica didn't even know if Alex was still alive.

  But Alex was not here, and she was.

  The irritation crawling through her might have originated around Brennan and inched over toward Alex, but it was quickly circling around herself. Man up, sister. You are here.

  "Good idea," Erica said, looking the officious Brennan Swift straight in the eye. "Liam, why don't you go get your things? We'll go home together."