CHAPTER EIGHT
I am definitely not much of a homemaker. Erica grabbed the bag of takeout from Indian Palace and consoled herself with the thought that she was doing a good deed by buying dinner for her two brothers premade. This way it would be edible.
As she straightened from the act of reaching in for the bag, she happened to glance toward Brennan's house situated on the other side of her car. Just as quickly, she looked away. Fortunately, he wasn't home. His big SUV wasn't parked in the driveway. She could relax.
With her hip, Erica closed her car door. Two days had passed since their abortive date and he'd confessed his past. Her anger had worn off. Now she felt intense disappointment and a realization that her anger had mostly been directed toward herself. She'd built him up too much in her mind. Her expectations of him had been impossibly high. Nobody could have lived up to them.
On the other hand, as a 'former' alcoholic, Brennan didn't even reach the bottom threshold of what Erica expected in a man.
Could she tolerate living next door to him?
With the answer to that question unknown, she turned her back on his house and made for the side kitchen door.
Liam pulled the door open before she could get out her keys.
He was trying to stuff his foot into a tennis shoe without hands. "Need any help?"
"Nah, this is it. Samosas and some other stuff from Indian Palace."
"Cool." Shooting her a cautious look, he took the bag from her. He'd been giving her these careful glances ever since she'd come home so early from her date with Brennan. Liam obviously guessed what had happened. Perhaps he even felt in part responsible since he'd known about Brennan's past and hadn't warned Erica.
Or, more likely, he feared Erica was a powder keg, liable to overreact at the slightest provocation.
Erica closed the door behind her as Liam set the bag of takeout on the kitchen counter. Had she overreacted the other night? It wasn't like Brennan had owed her that information at any earlier moment. Nor was the man an ax murderer. He'd been honest with her, which couldn't have been easy.
But that didn't mean she wanted to have anything to do with him. She certainly didn't want to be in a relationship with him. She couldn't trust even a 'former' alcoholic.
As Liam was removing the various boxes from the bag, the front doorbell rang. He froze, and his eyes shot to Erica's.
No, it couldn't be Brennan, Erica thought. His car had not been in the driveway. But her stomach tensed anyway. Despite—or maybe because of—this reaction, she told Liam, "I'll get it." She didn't want to play the coward.
With her stomach still tight, she walked to the front door and opened it.
Clint stood on the other side.
Erica blew out a relieved breath. "Why did you ring the bell? Don't you have a key?"
Clint dipped his chin. "Yeah, but you're living here now. It would seem rude to simply let myself in."
Whoa. Was she living here now?
She stepped back, and Clint walked in.
He sniffed the air. "Oh, good. You got takeout."
"Thanks."
He raised his hands. "You know you can't cook."
She decided to let it go. Besides, he was right.
"Hey, Clint!" Liam pushed out through the swinging kitchen door.
"Liam. My man."
The two exchanged a man-style, shoulder-banging hug.
They got along very well, Erica thought, watching them with an odd catch in her throat. But still... "Ahem, Clint, why don't you and Liam get the TV ready to record the basketball game while I set the table?"
Clint stilled for an instant. He obviously knew when she'd asked him over to watch the basketball game that it had been a pretext. But he hadn't called her on it yet.
Relaxing again, Clint roughed Liam's hair. "Where'd you put the remote, pipsqueak?"
"I'm taller than you, shrimp," Liam returned, mock-punching Clint in the torso.
A flurry of mock punches and feints followed as Erica turned to go back into the kitchen and get their dinner ready. Yes, the love between Clint and Liam was obvious, but she was still the better option for guardian. Anyway, the position would only last for a few years. It wasn't a significant lifetime commitment. And it wouldn't be as if Liam couldn't see Clint whenever he wanted. He could even stay with Clint a lot once Judy got out of his life.
That is, all of that could occur if Erica didn't go back to LA.
"TV is ready whenever we are," Clint announced, pushing through the swing door.
Smiling goofily, Liam followed him. "It'll start recording if we don't finish dinner in time for the beginning."
"You were faster than I was. There, Clint, why don't you fill the water pitcher? I'll get some serving spoons."
"Napkins," Liam remembered, earning him a surprised glance from Erica. What fifteen-year-old male thought of napkins?
In about two minutes, they were all sitting at the refinished kitchen table and filling their plates with the takeout food.
"I love me my Indian Palace samosas." Liam helped himself to two of the fried triangles.
Clint sat back from his filled plate without touching any of the food, however. "So," he asked Erica. "What's up?"
Erica halted in the act of serving herself some of the biryani rice. She finished dumping a spoonful of rice onto her plate and looked over at him. "I said we should give it a few days, and it's been a few days."
Liam stopped chewing.
Maybe he didn't want to live with her at all. It was a possibility that had occurred to Erica—repeatedly—over the past few days.
Erica turned to Liam, who still looked in suspended animation. "We need to fill out a formal application for guardianship. I told you about that, right? Anyway, I think we need to go ahead and do it."
Slowly, Liam finished chewing his mouthful. His eyes were wide.
Erica felt bad for putting this on the kid, but they were all in difficult positions here. "The final call is yours, Liam. Really. Both Clint and I are ready to do this."
Clint leaned back in his wire-frame seat. "But we want the judge to approve whoever we put on the application. Otherwise, who knows what might happen?"
Erica struggled not to show her surprise. She'd expected Clint to be stubborn about doing what he thought of as his duty.
Visibly swallowing, Liam tossed his gaze back and forth between the other two.
Erica's sense of contrition grew. They were giving him a Solomonic choice. "I know Dad picked Clint in his will, but we're thinking I might have a better shot of getting approved."
"I agree." Picking up a fork, Clint stuck it into the curried potatoes on his plate. "Given the viper in my life."
Erica's admiration for Clint was growing by leaps and bounds. It couldn't be easy for him to be so honest about the mess of his marriage. "But like I said, it's still up to you, Liam. I understand you don't know me as well as you know Clint. It's kind of a risk for you—either way."
Liam looked down and picked up one of the napkins he'd thought of placing on the table. Carefully, he wiped his mouth, obviously using the time to think. A strange, almost guilty, expression crossed his face before he slowly looked up. "But...it's not like Clint is going anywhere, right?"
Clint appeared surprised by the question. "Nah, I'm not letting Judy drive me out of town."
"So...it's not really that big a deal who I pick, right?" Liam's expression was now all innocence. "We'd all be together, sort of, right?"
Erica bit her lower lip. "Well, yeah...if I move to Palmwood, I guess that would be true."
Utter silence greeted this limp statement.
"Oh," Liam finally said. He swallowed. "You want to go back to LA.?"
Erica felt like an ogre. "That's where I make a living." Wanting to reduce her ogre qualities, she heard herself add, "Though I suppose there's a possibility I could find clients here just as well."
It was the truth, actually. She remembered the conversation she'd had with Brennan, back when she'd thou
ght he hung the moon. He might not hang the moon, but he'd known what he was talking about when he'd told her there was a market of people who'd want a personal trainer in Palmwood. At the time, the thought of moving here had held some definite appeal.
Had the idea lost its appeal simply because she was no longer interested in Brennan? Was she going to let the fact he lived next door be a factor in her decision? How shallow would that be?
"I guess...I could look more into that," Erica mused aloud.
Liam visibly brightened. "Oh, yeah. That'd be good. If you could stay here—and we'd all be together in one place."
He was right; it would be good. He clearly had more attachment to his life in Palmwood than she had to hers in Los Angeles. Plus, Clint was here. On the other hand, so was Brennan.
"Then you're going to apply to be my guardian?" Liam asked.
Wait a minute. Hadn't this been her question to him? But Liam had turned it around, making it her decision and, implicitly, basing it on whether or not she was willing to relocate.
She met Clint's eyes and saw his amusement. He'd obviously caught what Liam had done, too.
Erica's breath released with an exasperated whoosh. Okay, the truth: she could easily imagine moving here. The idea of getting out of the big city was definitely appealing. And what if she could finally afford her own gym? Out here, that might turn into a reality instead of remaining a dream always out of reach.
In the silence while they all waited for Erica's answer, an outside noise intruded. It was the noise of a big SUV pulling into the driveway outside, the one next to where Erica had parked her car.
Brennan was home.
Her stomach tensed even though he was out there, and she didn't even have to see him. This almost seemed like a sign, that he'd return home at just this moment. At least it was a test. Would she be able to handle living here, right next door to him?
In every respect but this, moving to Palmwood would be a plus and make everyone happy. So was this one aspect of her decision significant enough to overrule all the rest?
Erica heard a car door slam. He'd gotten out of the vehicle and was probably striding in his long-legged way toward his kitchen door. She could too easily visualize his actions.
Did that matter?
Taking in a deep breath, Erica willed her stomach muscles to relax. Of course it didn't matter. Or at least, it shouldn't. She hadn't let her father determine her adult decisions. She wasn't going to let Brennan have that kind of power, either.
"Yes," she told Liam. "I'm going to put myself down as your guardian. And we'll list me as living at this address." She smiled. "Sound good?"