LITMIR.BIZ

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      THE NOISE LEVEL in the bar that night made it difficult to carry on a decent conversation that went beyond a few simple words. As had become the habit on Friday nights, Liam and his band were providing the entertainment at Murphy’s. The band was in full swing, the music all but shaking the rafters. He could just see the few knickknacks in the apartment above slowly vibrating across the floor.

      Listening, Brett had to admit, if only to himself for now, that his little brother was a damn fine performer. Liam played the guitar as if it was an extension of himself, and his voice wasn’t just tolerable; it was actually good.

      And getting better all the time.

      As far as he knew, Liam had been at this for about a year, finally finding the courage to play in front of the people he had known all his life. Fearing that his aspirations could never reach the heights he’d wished for himself, that he was good only in his own mind, Liam had even held back from playing for his own family. It wasn’t until both he and Finn had all but bullied their younger brother into giving them a demonstration that Liam had finally played for them. What began hesitantly had gone on to be a performance worthy of a budding professional—and Brett had been the first to realize that.

      After a bit of soul-searching—he’d always been protective of his brothers, although the two really weren’t that aware of it—Brett had been the one to light a fire under Liam and encouraged his brother to bring his band and play at Murphy’s.

      For now, the weekly performances were enough to satisfy the budding artist within Liam. But Brett knew in his heart that Liam wouldn’t be satisfied with this level of performing forever. Eventually, Liam would want to try his wings elsewhere. To see if he could fly.

      As a rule, Brett didn’t much care for change, but at the same time, he understood that nothing ever really stayed the same. But that was his problem, not Liam’s. He just had to make his peace with that.

      He wanted Liam to do whatever it took to make himself happy.

      For a moment, Brett tuned out everything else in the bar and just listened to Liam play.

      “He’s better than I thought he’d be.”

      The comment, spoken in a normal tone of voice, still managed to cut through the din and his concentration to reach Brett. Half turning, Brett looked over to his right to see the woman who had voiced her opinion. He just wanted to verify that it was who he’d thought it was.

      And he was right.

      And surprised. She was the last person he would’ve expected to be here, given what she’d implied two weeks ago. And while he’d considered coming to Dan’s clinic with some bogus health complaint just to see her in action, he’d decided to hold off and see if the woman was actually staying—or if she couldn’t hack it and decided to turn tail and run.

      So far, the jury was out on that decision.

      “That makes two of us,” he told Alisha in a vague, preoccupied voice. And then he turned on his charm. It was never far from the surface. “First drink’s on the house,” he told her, “although I have to say, I’m surprised to see you here.”

      That made two of them again, she thought. “No more surprised than I am to find myself here.”

      “You’re sleepwalking?” Brett asked, tongue in cheek, although there was amusement in his eyes.

      She didn’t bother answering that since they both knew she wasn’t sleepwalking, and the suggestion bordered on the absurd. She didn’t know just what she was supposed to say in response to something like that. Bantering wasn’t her forte and, as far as she knew, Pierce had next to no sense of humor. It probably couldn’t find a place for itself with his giant libido taking up so much space.

      Rather than make small talk, which she had no patience with and was not very good at in any event, Alisha went directly to the heart of the matter that had brought her here to this dim little establishment with its scent of alcohol, noisy occupants and high spirits.

      “I’m told you have an apartment,” she said to Brett. And with those words, Forever’s new physician managed to accomplish the rare feat of surprising Brett Murphy twice in the space of a few minutes.

Chapter Three

      The noise level being what it was, Brett decided that he couldn’t have heard her correctly. Leaning in closer, he said, “Excuse me?”

      “An apartment,” Alisha repeated, raising her voice to be heard above the din. Maybe that rancher she’d treated this morning had misinformed her, and there wasn’t any unoccupied living quarters to be had in this town. Doubts as well as frustration began to set in. “Do you or don’t you have one?”

      Had she asked that question of Finn, Brett was fairly certain that his younger brother would have thought that Forever’s new lady doc was hitting on him. But Brett had a few miles on him, not so much in age—he was just thirty-two—but in what he’d experienced during that time, and he knew the look of a woman who was coming on to a man. The lady doc was most certainly not hitting on him.

      To be quite honest with himself, he didn’t think he could accurately describe the expression he saw on her attractive face.

      From where he stood, Lady Doc was an enigma, a puzzle waiting to be solved. In a nutshell, the lady was a challenge, and it had been a while since he’d been challenged.

      His interest level went up several notches.

      “I do,” he replied, then asked, cautiously, “Are you interested in seeing it?”

      Viewing the accommodations didn’t really interest Alisha. As long as the apartment—probably nothing more than an oversize closet, she guessed, given the nature of this town—didn’t come with a roommate, that was all that really mattered to her.

      “I’m interested in renting it,” she informed him in no uncertain terms. “It is for rent, isn’t it?” Alisha asked, realizing she hadn’t been told that one crucial piece of information.

      “I thought you were staying with Dan and Tina. Did I get that wrong?”

      “No, you didn’t get that wrong,” she acknowledged. “For the moment, I am staying with Dr. Davenport and his family.” There was less than enthusiasm in her voice.

      “I take it that’s not working out for you? Living there?” he added when she didn’t answer.

      Brett couldn’t envision either Dan or his wife making the lady doc feel uncomfortable enough to get her looking for other living arrangements. Both Dan and Tina were warm, giving people.

      Maybe it was the other way around. Alisha Cordell’s looks were hot enough to melt a passing iceberg at twenty paces, but for the moment, he had to admit that the woman didn’t exactly strike him as being all that warm and toasty.

      Alisha frowned. She didn’t like being questioned or prodded. Still, if he did have an apartment, she couldn’t exactly just walk out now, the way she wanted to. So she answered his question—but let him know that she didn’t appreciate his prying into her motives.

      “Not that it’s any business of yours, but I feel like I’m in the way. It’s not that big a place,” she added when Brett continued studying her.

      Brett took a bottle from behind him on the counter and poured a glass of pinot grigio, then placed it in front of her. She looked at the glass, then at him. “I didn’t order that.”

      “I know. It’s on the house.”

      Another good-looking male who thought he was God’s gift to women, she thought, tamping down her anger. Just because the man had a killer smile—and he knew it—did he think he could ply her with alcohol and get instant results? He was about to be surprised, she silently promised the bartender.

      Taking out a five-dollar bill,

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