The Brazen (Calamity Montana)
The Brazen: Chapter 6

“UH . . .” A hum resonated through the dark house, then the lights flashed on. “Generator?”

Pierce nodded and tucked the check I’d given him into a jeans pocket. “Come in.”

“Actually, I’d better get going.”

Note to self: Never listen to Nellie again. Coming here had been a horrible idea. Why had I let her talk me into this? Was I really so desperate that I’d invade Pierce’s life to get his attention? Apparently, yes.

Spinning for the door, I spoke over my shoulder. “Sorry to bother you.”

“Wait.” Pierce’s hand shot out and landed on the door before I could yank it open and retreat into the blizzard. “You can’t drive in this.”

“Oh, I’ll be fine. I’m a Montanan. Driving through snowstorms is practically an addendum to the driver’s ed exam.”

The roads had been awful on the way up here but not impassable. I’d probably make it home fine, right? It was already dark. That would make it, er . . . exciting? The trip would take me three times as long but if I made it before midnight, I’d call it a win.

I could do this. I had to do this. Staying here was not an option. I felt stupid enough as it was. Maybe I could drive down the street, park and sleep in my car to wait this one out. Well, Mom’s car.

I’d sold my Explorer so I could write Pierce that check.

“Kerrigan,” Pierce warned, shifting closer.

He was standing so close. His spicy cologne drifted to my nose and I drew in the expensive aroma. Rich sandalwood. Leather. Spice. Pierce smelled . . . oh God, he smelled good. That scent brought me right back to the night of the motel and the kiss.

“I can’t let you drive in this weather.” Pierce towered over me, his voice low and soothing.

I dragged my gaze up his hard chest and when I reached those dark eyes, I couldn’t breathe. In the past two months, I’d forgotten just how handsome he was. I’d forgotten about that sharp jaw and sexy beard. The memory of his eyes, framed by dark lashes, had faded. Even his lips were softer than I’d remembered.

A rush of desire curled in my lower belly.

Oh, hell. I was entirely, irrationally attracted to the man out to ruin my life.

I most definitely could not stay here. This house was probably five thousand square feet, minimum, and it was much, much too small. Pierce needed to return to Colorado. I’d stay in Montana. Wyoming would be a lovely buffer.

“I should go.” I tore my gaze from his and reached for the door’s handle, yanking it open despite his hand still braced on the surface. The moment it was cracked, a blast of frigid air slapped me in the face and a flurry of snow rushed into the house.

The cold set me on my heels and when I shielded my face with a hand and looked out, I could barely see past the overhang of the porch.

Shit. This wasn’t just a blizzard. This was a whiteout.

“You are a stubborn, stubborn woman.” Pierce took my elbow and tugged me away from the door so he could shut out the storm. Then he leveled me with a scowl that—damn it—only made him look hotter. “Come inside.”

Without waiting for me, he turned on his sock-covered heels and strode through the entryway, disappearing to the living room.

I tipped my head to the ceiling. “Why do I make such bad decisions?”

“Like I said, you’re a stubborn woman. And probably because you let Nellie talk you into this particular bad decision.”

I cringed. Another note to self: Pierce has superhuman hearing. “That was a rhetorical question to the universe.”

“Are you coming in here or will you be hovering beside the door as we wait this storm out? That’s not a rhetorical question, by the way.”

I pursed my lips and pulled off my knee-high boots. Then I shrugged off my jacket and hung it on the rack in the entryway before following Pierce to the living room.

The scent of fire and warmth filled the room, chasing away the chill.

Pierce was sitting on the leather couch closest to the fire, his elbows on his knees as he leaned toward the blaze.

“I’m sorry for intruding.” I chose the armchair farthest from him.

“Are you?” He smirked.

“Yes.”

“What did Nellie tell you?”

“That you’d be here for a few days and if I wanted you to hear me out, the only way to do it was in person.”

Her logic had made sense given that I’d spent my first thirty days calling and emailing him with no success. The only progress I’d made with Pierce had been the last time we were here. So her logic had clicked and once again, I was back in the camp of desperate times calling for desperate measures.

“I have a plan.”

“And I have a headache.” He sighed. “This storm is going to last for a while. Let’s save the plan for another time.”

I opened my mouth but clamped it shut when his shoulders slumped forward. “Okay.”

“That’s it?” He glanced my way, his eyes dropping to my legs before he turned his attention to the fire once more.

Was there something wrong with my clothes? I wore skinny jeans and a thick, oversized tan turtleneck that I’d stolen from Larke’s closet because I’d sold all of my nice sweaters on eBay.

Cutting Pierce that check hadn’t been easy, but dreams meant sacrifices, and thankfully, I had a younger sister who loved clothes and was my size.

Pierce wasn’t dressed in a suit, but casually in a black quarter-zip sweater with a red and gray plaid shirt underneath. His jeans were a dark wash and I suspected that his ensemble was made entirely of designer labels. No closet-raided clothes for him.

“Can I get you anything?” he asked, sinking deeper into the couch. He leaned heavily against an armrest like it was the only thing keeping him off the floor.

“No, thanks. Are you okay? Besides the headache.”

“I’m just tired. Cold. The drive up was long.” He blinked but it was more like closing his eyes for two seconds, then opening them again.

“I’m sorry.” Idiot. I was an idiot. Nellie wasn’t here so I was mentally shouldering her with half the blame.

She’d called me last night and told me that Pierce was coming to Montana. She knew how hard I’d been working and had promised that if I approached him, he’d listen. All I’d hoped for was a few minutes for him to hear me out. Nellie was certain that if he knew my plan, if he realized I’d sacrificed everything, he’d understand and give me more time.

I’d put everything possible on the market, including, as of today, my own home. So far, all that had sold were my clothes and my car.

Mom let me borrow her Cadillac today and whenever necessary for longer trips around town. Otherwise, I’d been walking around Calamity, even in the cold. My house was only ten blocks from the gym. I made daily trips to the grocery store to spread out purchases and limit myself to one or two bags a day. Ramen noodles had become a staple of my diet and instead of my nice shampoo, I’d switched to the generic bottles that cost ninety-nine cents.

All so I could write Pierce the check in his pocket.

I’d never forget the look on his face when he’d read the amount. God, I was a fool. Humiliation was becoming a constant companion.

I should have declared bankruptcy. I should have admitted defeat, taken a job at the dealership with Dad and given up on running my own businesses.

That check I’d written Pierce was everything to my name.

And it wasn’t enough.

A bone-deep disappointment became this black hole in my heart and my eyes flooded. This had never been the plan. What was I doing? I was thirty years old and living like a broke college student. Why? If Gabriel were here, he’d cheer me up. He’d tell me to keep fighting.

But he was gone. My dreams were crumbling to dust and I just . . . I didn’t have a fight. Not anymore. And against Pierce, I’d never win.

I ducked my chin so he wouldn’t see the tears swimming in my eyes. Maybe he’d beaten me. Maybe I’d failed. But I didn’t want him to see me cry. I swallowed hard, willing the lump in my throat away. I blinked furiously and my nose was stinging but I refused to sniffle.

Breathe.

So what if I didn’t own my own business? So what if I worked for my family? So what if my dreams had to change?

“Are you all right?” Pierce’s voice cut through my turmoil.

“Yes,” I lied.

“Kerrigan.”

Why did he have to say my name like that? All soft and sweet and caring. It only made fighting the tears harder. He was the man with my future in the palm of his hand. Actually, in the front pocket of his jeans.

Maybe he’d cave if he realized I was seconds from crying, but I wasn’t here to gain his pity.

I wanted his faith.

Gabriel had always told me I would do great things. Maybe he’d been wrong. But I’d believed because he’d believed.

Fight. Don’t give up.

As the fire crackled and the storm raged beyond the windows, I grabbed my emotions with an iron fist. There would be no crying. If I gave up now, I’d regret it for the rest of my life.

I forced my chin up and steeled my expression. “I want you to listen to me. One more time. I want you to hear me out. Because I need you to take a chance. On me.”

He shifted, kicking his feet up on the couch. He propped an arm behind his head, and though he still looked tired, his eyes stayed locked on mine. “Why?”

“Because I won’t let myself fail. The truth is, I don’t have a lot of tools in my arsenal. But I work hard. I am ambitious. And though my five-year plan isn’t infallible, it’s solid.”

My goal wasn’t to be the richest woman in the world. Hell, I didn’t even want to be the richest woman in Calamity. I just wanted to be my own woman.

“You put a property on the market,” he said.

“I did.” I nodded. “Two, actually. My own home and the farmhouse. I take it Nellie told you about that.”

He shook his head. “No, she didn’t.”

“Then how did you know?”

“I saw the farmhouse listed with the real estate agency in Calamity.”

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“I own an investment company.”

“Like Gabriel’s. He told me you started one of your own.”

“I did,” Pierce said. “And as much as I would like to simply take my clients’ information at face value, we follow up.”

“We? Or you?”

He hesitated, shifting on the couch, and when he spoke, he turned his eyes to the fire. “Me.”

Interesting. Why hadn’t he assigned my loan to someone else? Even Nellie? I’d asked her about Grays Peak Investments. She’d told me that their account teams had been swamped since absorbing Gabriel’s company. Was that why he’d kept track of what I was doing? Because I was an easy account to manage while his teams were working on others? Or was there something more?

He’d delivered that letter to me personally. I doubted he did that for other clients.

Gabriel had once boasted that Pierce’s company would one day surpass Barlowe Capital. Pierce was busy running a huge corporation. Why would he care about my defunct business loan?

“I’m sure I’m small potatoes compared to most of your clients.”

“Yes, you are.” A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Though you are the most persistent.”

“Stubborn. Like you said.”

“No wonder you’ve become friends with Nellie. She’s stubborn too.”

I smiled. “She’s pretty fantastic.”

“She is. Did she tell you how we met?”

“No.”

Pierce swung off the couch, moving to the fire to add another log. Once it was crackling, he glanced out the windows, and like it could feel his stare, the wind screamed in the dark.

I shivered. Driving home would have been terrifying.

“Thanks for letting me stay, by the way. I’m sorry to do this to you.”

“It’s okay.” He waved it off, returning to the couch. “I admire your persistence. And if our positions were reversed, I probably would have done the same.”

“Did you just give me a compliment?”

He chuckled, stretching out on the couch again. “Lack of sleep. I must be getting delirious.”

I brought my knees to my chest, relaxing into the chair and making myself comfortable. With the storm outside, there was nowhere for me to go until it calmed. Maybe in a few hours, the wind would calm and visibility would increase. Then I could attempt the trip down the mountain.

“What were we talking about?” he asked.

“Nellie and how you met.”

“That’s right. We’ve known each other since high school. We went to the same private school.”

“In Denver?”

He hummed his agreement. “She was a scholarship student, which shouldn’t have made a damn bit of difference, but it did. Kids can be mean. Rich kids can be cruel. But since you know Nellie, it won’t surprise you that instead of keeping to herself like most of the other scholarship kids did, she threw it in our faces. She beat us at everything. And she loved to one-up me at every opportunity.”

“Why is that? Were you mean to her?”

“No, just competitive. I like to be the best.”

I laughed. “Why am I not surprised?”

“Nellie bested me for valedictorian, something she doesn’t let me forget,” he said. “After graduation, I lost touch with her for a while. Then I bumped into her at a restaurant about five years ago. She’d just moved back to Colorado from Charlotte and was looking for a job. I was desperate for a competent assistant and she agreed to work for me temporarily. She threatens to quit whenever I piss her off.”

There was such fondness in his voice. And trust. Did he know that she spoke about him in the same way? “I doubt she’ll ever quit.”

“I hope not. She’s one of my best friends. Work is a lot more fun when you can work with a friend. I’d miss her.”

Where was the impatient, arrogant billionaire who hadn’t been willing to spare me a moment? A knot in my stomach untwisted, a knot that had been there for months. For the first time, he sounded like the Pierce who Gabriel had spoken of so often. The beloved grandson of my friend.

“We went on a date once.” Pierce chuckled. “What a disaster. It was our senior year. To this day, I’m not sure what came over me to ask her out.”

“She’s beautiful.” Nellie and I FaceTimed on occasion and she was more than beautiful. She was stunning with silky, white-blond hair and sparkling green eyes.

“She is pretty, but to me, she’s just . . . Nellie. Always has been. For our date, I picked her up and took her to the movie theater. We stood in the lobby arguing over which movie to watch and our debate lasted so long that we missed both of our choices.”

“You couldn’t agree on a movie but you can work together?”

“We grew up. Not that we still don’t argue. Lately, our arguments seem to center around you.”

“Me?” I knew Nellie was on my side, but to have her go to bat for me with Pierce was . . . Now I wanted to cry again.

His dark eyes met mine and the softness in them disappeared. “I hope you haven’t kindled this friendship with her in hopes of getting ahead with me.”

I flinched. Wait. What? Had he just accused me of using Nellie? I was out of my chair and on the way to the door faster than he could blink. “Just when I thought you weren’t a complete and total asshole.”

Screw this place. I’d sleep in the car. That was better than staying here with him.

“Kerrigan, wait.” He rushed after me but I was already in the entryway and shrugging on my coat.

I bent to pick up a boot, my hair flying around my face as I put it on and then the other. “Nellie is a good person. So am I. You, on the other hand, have some major character flaws. I cannot believe you’d accuse me of using her. Or that you have so little confidence in her that you’d think she’d let anyone use her.”

“That’s not . . . where are you going?”

“Home.” Eventually.

“You can’t leave.”

“Watch me.” With both boots on my feet, I reached for the door. “Goodbye, Mr. Sullivan.”

“Kerrigan.” His hand whipped out, smacking against the door. “Just . . . stop. That’s not what I meant.”

“Of course it was.”

“You’re right,” he admitted, rubbing at a temple with his free hand. “I’m sorry. I just . . . I’m not myself tonight. And Nellie doesn’t have a lot of friends. She never has. I can tell that she really likes you.”

“And I really like her.”

He pulled his hand away from the door, holding them both up. “You can’t leave. It’s not safe out there. There’s plenty of room in this house for us both if you’d like to avoid me until the weather blows over.”

The wind chose that moment to let out another ear-splitting scream. Son of a bitch. I really didn’t want to go out there. I might get buried in a snowdrift on the way to the car.

“Fine.” I backed away from the door and without another word, wearing my coat and boots, stomped out of the entryway.

My pride wouldn’t let me return to his living room. Instead, I marched in the opposite direction, unsure of what I’d find at the end of a short hallway. It was the kitchen.

The space was massive. Dark cabinets filled the U-shaped room and accentuated the rustic theme. A copper farmhouse sink gleamed under the lights and the range was larger than any I’d seen outside of a professional kitchen.

There was a bouquet of fresh flowers on the island. I walked closer to smell the roses and lilies. A note card tucked under the vase read Welcome Home and was signed from the club with a phone number.

“You’ve listed your home.”

My head whipped away from the flowers as Pierce walked into the kitchen. “I thought you said we could avoid one another.”

“I was thirsty.” He walked to the cabinets, opening one after another until he found the glasses. “Water?”

“Please.”

He took two glasses and filled them both with ice water from the fridge. After setting one beside me, he went to one of the stools at the island and took a seat. “Why did you list your home?”

“To pay you.” Duh. “I’m selling anything necessary. My car. My clothes. My blood, if needed.”

He took a long drink, his eyebrows furrowed. “You own seven properties. Why not one of the other properties?”

“Because they have tenants who pay rent. I’m not going to kick people out of their homes.”

“You could sell them as occupied rentals.”

“There aren’t many people in Calamity who want to own and manage rentals. And I love my tenants. The last thing I want is to sell the place and then have them worry their lease won’t be renewed. Besides, their rent is paying my mortgages with the bank.”

The properties I’d bought with Gabriel’s loans had been the farmhouse and the building downtown. If I had to sell one of my rentals, then I’d do it. But it would be my last resort.

“What about the gym?”

“It’s covering utilities and my living expenses.” Not that it was much.

“What happens if you sell your own home?” he asked.

“There’s a vacant studio apartment above the gym. I’ll move in there. If I find someone to rent that place, then luckily, I have a big family. I’ll couch surf for a while.” I’d hate every minute of it, but if I had to, I’d move home with my parents until I built up money for rent.

“And what about this farmhouse?”

“That’s a long story.”

He glanced to the windows and the gusts of snow hitting the glass. “We’re not going anywhere. Not tonight.”

Oh, how I hated that he was right. If this storm kept up, I wouldn’t be able to leave for hours. Maybe not until morning.

But he was here, asking me questions. This was why I’d come here, right? To make him listen and understand. For some reason he was curious—maybe it was atonement for putting his foot in his mouth.

This was my opportunity and since I was stranded, I might as well make the most of my window.

I rounded the island and took a stool, keeping one between us. The distance was important, because even though I was irritated with him, the man was still too handsome for his own good. Or mine.

“Have you ever heard of Lucy Ross? The country singer?” I asked.

“Sounds familiar but I’m not really into country music.”

“She’s a friend of mine and lives in Calamity. She moved there two summers ago and rented my farmhouse.”

It had been an interesting property, even before the drama from that summer. All my life I’d known it as Widow Ashleigh’s farmhouse. I couldn’t remember her husband, who’d died when I was a kid, but Mrs. Ashleigh had gone to our church.

When she’d died, the farmhouse had gone to her niece, who’d had no interest in owning a home in Montana. The niece had sold everything inside along with the house and its twenty acres.

The family who’d bought the property had been from Texas, and the year they’d moved in had been one of the coldest, snowiest years in decades. When they’d put the house back on the market the following spring, no one had been surprised.

They’d moved away but the house hadn’t sold, probably because their price had been outrageous. Clearly they hadn’t been desperate for the money—I couldn’t relate, but Pierce probably could.

“Before I bought it, the property sat abandoned and empty for years. There’d been squatters inside once. Another time, it had been vandalized by teens needing a place to have a keg party, so they’d used the land and the old barn. As you can probably guess, it was a mess, and I was able to get the place for a steal.”

The Texans had finally dropped their ridiculous asking price when their realtor had texted them pictures of the interior and the county had sent a letter threatening a fine if they didn’t clean it up.

The day they’d lowered the price, I’d jumped.

“I called Gabriel, so excited. When I told him about it, he immediately loaned me the money because I didn’t have the capital on hand. The timing worked out because he’d already drafted our contract so I could buy two buildings on First. He just increased the loan amount.”

“Two buildings.” He cocked his head. “I thought you just had the gym.”

“I sold the other. It was at the end of the street with the most room to expand. I bought it without plans for exactly what to do with it, but the price was right. A friend of mine runs a construction company. He outgrew his office and was looking for a new spot. I sold it to him and paid Gabriel some of the money I’d owed.”

At one point, I’d owed him nearly a half million dollars. Apparently, my payment history didn’t count for much in Pierce’s book.

“I put a lot of money into the farmhouse,” I told him. “Maybe too much. But it needed it and I was planning on renting it to vacationers coming through. When Lucy called and inquired about the place, she didn’t bat an eye at my price. She wanted a longer-term lease, and I was ecstatic. It was better than I could have hoped for. But . . .”

How was I supposed to predict death? It was hard for me to go to the farmhouse now. I used to walk into the kitchen and see the new cabinets and the walls I’d painted myself. Now, I simply saw the blood.

“But what?” Pierce asked.

“Lucy had a stalker. She was living in Nashville and came to Montana, hoping the stalker would leave her alone. But it didn’t work out that way. The stalker found her. Tried to kill her in that house. If not for the sheriff, Lucy would probably be dead—along with my other friend Everly and two teenaged kids who happened to be there that day. Duke saved their lives. But to do it, he had to shoot the stalker. She died in my house.”

Pierce blinked. “Oh.”

“Exactly. Oh.” I took a drink of my water. “I’m surprised you didn’t come across the story.”

“I checked for listings with the real estate office but that was about the extent of my research.”

“Well, you didn’t know about the incident, but every person in Calamity does. No surprise, nobody wants to buy the farmhouse. Especially in the winter. And now that it’s on the market, I can’t exactly set up vacation rentals.”

The house was sitting empty, costing me money for utilities each month. I wasn’t sure how I’d pay December’s bill, which was coming in a few weeks. I’d barely managed November’s. Hopefully when they asked what I wanted for Christmas, my parents wouldn’t make too many comments when I requested cash.

“Do you think it will sell?”

“Not unless I slash the price.” It was listed at $220,000, which was less than it was worth given its acreage and my updates. But because of the terms of my loan, I couldn’t go much lower. If I could sell the farmhouse at that price, after the fees and such, I’d be close to paying off Pierce.

“Hmm,” Pierce hummed, raising his glass to his lips.

Silence stretched between us. Without the noise from the fire, the wind seemed louder. Angrier. A nasty gust slammed against the windows and even though the house was solid, it was like a blast of cold snaked through the kitchen.

“How about a payment plan?”

I was midsip and nearly choked on my water. Had I heard him right? “What?”

“A payment plan. Ten years. Interest-only annual payments. Balloon payment of the principle at the ten-year mark or sooner. No prepayment penalty. Ten percent interest rate.”

I waited for the catch. There had to be a catch, right? Those terms were almost as good as the ones Gabriel had given me. The interest rate was steep but I was in no position to argue.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked.

“That’s it?”

“Should there be more?”

“Uh . . . no?”

He chuckled and slid off his stool, coming closer and holding out a hand. “Do we have a deal?”

“Deal.” I slid my hand into his and an electric jolt raced up to my elbow.

Pierce must have felt it too because his eyes flared, his gaze dropping to my mouth. He leaned in, just an inch, but what a difference it made. He was so close that his body chased away the room’s chill. His eyes ensnared me and my lips parted.

Did I want him to kiss me again? Yes. But before I could get my wish, he let go of my hand and took a step back. “Come on. It’s cold in here. Let’s wait out this storm in the living room.”

The living room. Where we could put more space between us. An excellent idea.

Because now that we’d come to an agreement on my loan, the last thing I needed was to screw it up by doing something stupid.

Like kissing Pierce Sullivan again.

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