Without thinking, she stroked him through his jeans, and he made a strangled sound she eagerly swallowed.

When he broke away, he looked down into her face, chest heaving. “I wanted to be with you this afternoon. In my bed. Let me tell them to go.”

“It’s okay. I liked meeting them. They’re very nice.”

“You and me, dinner on Tuesday night.”

He hadn’t exactly asked, but she nodded anyway.

“I’ll pick you up at your condo. We’ll walk to get dinner.”

“Wow, like a real date and stuff?” She winked, but she wasn’t being flip, she liked the idea.

He nodded. “I told you, I’m serious about you, Erin. Now go on and bake. I’ll call you later.”

10

She drove to the café and breathed through the panic when she saw the darkened front windows. Erin had wanted to tell Todd yes, to come with her because she hated the f**king fear. If he’d been with her, she wouldn’t have had a damned panic attack at the very thought of going into her own business at five in the afternoon on a Sunday in full light.

The neighborhood was safe. She knew everyone in it and they knew her. Her feelings were irrational; she knew it, and yet they were there. She had to make herself do this every Sunday, even if she would have to change her shirt once she got inside because she’d become so sweaty from the panic. But she did it because she would not let Charles Cabot steal any more of her life.

“It’s daylight. Stop. You are an adult. There is nothing to be afraid of,” she muttered as she walked toward the café’s front door. It seemed as if the short block lengthened, darkened.

Two sort of scary-looking guys, albeit—hello—her brother’s bread and butter at the tattoo parlor—and her people really—stood near the alley on the other side of the café.

Her heart sped, making her dizzy. So dizzy she had to touch the window of the shop to keep her bearings. Damn it, she would not, would not allow a f**king panic attack right now. She wasn’t a pu**y. She wasn’t a coward. She could open her own door without falling into a weepy puddle just feet away.

“Erin? Honey, are you all right?”

She looked around, blinking, and saw Brody standing in his doorway, wearing concern on his face. She’d seen it so many times she nearly burst into tears of frustration.

“Fine. Fine!” she spat out and forced her legs to take the next steps to the door.

“Shut the f**k up about fine.” Brody caught up to her, putting an arm around her shoulders and taking her keys. “I’ve told you to call me when you’re pulling up and I’ll meet you to unlock and let you inside. Why you do this to yourself every week is beyond me.”

He jammed the key into the lock and then two more before the door swung open. She stood near her brother while he turned off the alarm and flipped on the lights.

At last he faced her, holding both her hands. “Baby girl, I love you so much. Let me help you. It’s not necessary to be superwoman, you know? Why don’t you call me? I’m just next door. You know I’ll come with you. I don’t judge you, because there’s nothing to judge. You’re not a burden. I like to do things for you.”

She blinked, but the tears came anyway and he simply hugged her, sliding a hand up and down her back.

“I hate being this person,” she said softly. “I used to be brave. I used to climb mountains and yell at hecklers. Now I jump at shadows.”

“God, Erin. You are brave. I wish you could see yourself, I wish you could see the woman Adrian and I see every day. Beyond strong to survive this goddamn mess.” He stepped back enough to look into her face. “How long has it been since you’ve been to therapy?”

“I should be better! How long will this last? I can’t go to therapy for the rest of my life.”

“Honey, you experienced something so horrible it would take any person years to get over. Why do you hold yourself to such a ridiculous standard? I needed therapy after it happened and it didn’t even happen to me. For a year and a half I went every two weeks because I was terrified of losing you. Do you think I’m a loser for needing that? Adele was your little girl, you loved her. Adrian and I loved her too. You nearly died and you’re my heart. That doesn’t come with a ‘heal by’ date like a carton of milk.”

She knew he was right. But therapy sometimes made it worse. Stirred up things best left alone and forgotten, or at the very least, pretended to be forgotten. Still, she couldn’t keep living this way.

“I’ll call her. It’s coming up anyway . . . the anniversary. I’ll probably need it.”

“We could go away. Me, you and Adrian. Head out to the coast. Go to New York, Vancouver—hell, Amsterdam even.”

“No. I can’t run this year. But I want you to know I would have died without you and Adrian. You guys throw me life preservers. You must hate being my lifeguard so much. Without me you’d have been able to go to art school. Instead you had to raise me and Adrian. That’s f**ked up.”

He walked her back into the kitchen after locking the front doors and resetting those alarms. She started to pull out all the ingredients she’d need, all her pans and things, and he watched for a long time before he spoke.

“I’m your brother, Erin. I love you. When Mom and Dad died, of course I stepped in. Not because I had to, but because that’s what family does. That’s what you do when you love people. I didn’t go to art school, but I have my own business. A successful business with a damned fine reputation. People come from all over to get my inkwork. What happened to me was supposed to happen. I don’t hate being your lifeguard. I’d be so sad if I couldn’t be there when you needed me. Just like you’ve been for me when I needed you. Adrian and I love you, we want to help you. We both feel a heck of a lot better when you reach out instead of suffering alone.”