“Alexia . . . I don’t think that’s a good idea. We don’t know each other anymore. I’ll be happy to help you in any way I can, but staying with me just wouldn’t work out. You’d be much happier in a hotel.” But when she burst out crying, he knew he was screwed. He didn’t owe her anything; hell, by rights, he should have tossed her out the door already. But . . . she looked so damn fragile. He couldn’t help but remember their past relationship and even though the love was gone, he still cared about what happened to her.

“I’m sorry,” she said, wiping her face. “I’m horribly embarrassed to be doing this. My pride seems to have completely deserted me lately. Just please . . . forget I asked. It’s crazy that I would expect something like that after all I’ve done to you.”

Brant sighed, knowing that he was probably making a huge mistake, but unable to turn his back on her. He stood up, pulling his house key from his key ring. He had lived in an apartment back when they were together, so she had never been to his new house. He scribbled the address of his house on the back of a business card and handed both to her. “Why don’t you go to my place and rest? We can talk more this evening. I . . . This can’t be for long though, Alexia, just a few days.”

“Thank you, Brant,” she whispered tearfully as she stood, giving him a hug. Pulling back, she asked, “Could you please not tell anyone, even your family? I . . . just don’t want people looking at me like my parents did.”

“Of course.” He was just dropping his arms from around her when the door burst open. He saw the smile quickly slipping from Emma’s lips as she stood in the doorway. As she started to turn away, he said, “Emma, come on in.” She stopped uncertainly as Alexia turned, looking toward the door. “Emma, this is a friend of mine, Alexia, and Alexia, this is my . . .”—fuck what do I say here?—“assistant, Emma.” Both said hello. Maybe it was his imagination, but the moment seemed awkward as hell to him.

Alexia picked up her handbag. “I’ll see you later on, Brant.” With a parting smile to Emma, she walked out the door. If he had thought things were awkward before, it was doubly so now. He found himself wanting to squirm under Emma’s unwavering stare. He was just helping a friend. He really hadn’t done anything wrong. Maybe he needed to stop acting so damn guilty then.

“Good morning, Emma.” He walked over to shut the door behind her. “I’ve been waiting for you to get here for hours it seems.” Real good, now it sounds like you’re chastising her for being late to work. “I mean, I got here early, so you’re not late.” Yeah, that was much better.

“It looks like you found something to occupy your time. Did you need anything?” she asked over her shoulder as she turned to leave.

Grabbing her hand, he pulled her back against him. “She’s just a friend who came to me because she needs some help.” Looking down at her formfitting black dress, he groaned, “God, you look good today.” Just as Emma softened and moved closer to him, the door burst open yet again.

“Bro, was that your ex I just passed in the hallway?” Declan asked. Brant closed his eyes briefly as Emma stiffened and pulled away. Declan grimaced, noticing for the first time his arm around Emma. “Um, shit, sorry about that. I was just . . . surprised to see Alexia. Maybe I was wrong; it didn’t look anything like her.”

This was just going from bad to worse. He was afraid of what Declan would say next in an effort to pull his foot from his mouth. “It’s fine,” Brant said, “and, yes, it was Alexia.”

Emma pulled her arm away, saying, “I’m going to my desk now,” without making any further eye contact.

When she closed the door behind her, Brant turned to his brother. “Thanks for that.”

Declan took a seat in front of the desk, giving him a wry grin. “That wasn’t one of my smoothest moments. What’s going on here? It sure seemed like I walked in on something.”

Brant took his seat, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He had never been comfortable talking about his personal life, even with his family. He was sorely in need of some moral support, though, and knew that a newly married Declan was more likely to provide that than his sister. “Things with Emma have gotten . . . interesting.”

“Interesting?” Declan asked. “Could you be a little more specific?”

Finally Brant blurted out, “Interesting as in I want her now more than I want to choke her.”

Declan’s eyes widened before he started chuckling. “I always knew that if you two ever stopped all the bitching, you would probably be all over each other. No one argues that much if they don’t give a damn.”

“Yeah, well, suffice it to say, I can’t get her out of my head. I could probably have saved myself a few stomach ulcers if I had parted ways with her after our first verbal sparring match, but that, as they say, is history. Now thanks to her walking in on me while I was hugging Alexia and you announcing to everyone in a three-block radius that she’s my ex, Emma is probably ready to run.”

“Sorry about that. Not cool at all on my part. What is Alexia doing here, though? I didn’t think you had spoken with her in years.”

“I haven’t,” Brant agreed. “She’s in a bit of a bind and needs my help.”

“What kind of help?” Declan asked.

Brant shook his head. “It’s private and I’ve promised her not to tell anyone. It’s going to make it difficult with Emma though.” Before his brother could dig further, he decided to change the subject. “So how’s the whole family thing working out for you?”

The old Declan would have cringed over a question like that, but the new one just grinned. “It’s all good. Ella almost burned the place down last night when she attempted to make homemade manicotti. Evan and I had to wear towels over our faces for an hour. When the smoke detector went off, she started crying. It was a damn mess there for a while. I told her there was no shame in picking up take-out. Without people like us, restaurants would go out of business. It’s a fucking hormonal minefield at our place right now. You make one wrong step and you go from hero to zero in the blink of an eye. Thank fuck that Mac was smart enough not to mention the smell when he got there for his well-done dinner.”

Brant chuckled, trying to picture the scene Declan was describing. It sounded absolutely terrifying, but his brother seemed perfectly content. “You’ve got a few cooking skills; why don’t you help Ella out?”