Kathy Douglass

The Waitress's Secret


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they finished eating, Joni took several bills from her wallet and dropped them on the table.

      “I should at least leave the tip,” Arden offered, rummaging through her purse.

      “Not a chance. But if you want, you can help out at the youth center. I need to get some things together before the kids arrive.”

      “Sure. Whatever you need.”

      “Great.”

      After a short drive Joni pulled into a paved parking lot in front of a three-story building. Arden had come to think of Sweet Briar as a quaint town, so the dynamic mural with graffiti art wrapping around the outside of the building came as a pleasant surprise.

      Joni looked with pride at the building. “The youth center was built by the city, but the tax dollars we receive only go so far. Donations and grants keep us afloat. At least most of the time. We’re popular with the kids, though, and we’re filling a need. That’s what matters.”

      Joni popped open the trunk and grabbed a couple of boxes. Arden did the same and followed her inside. The trunk was loaded with bags and boxes so she knew several trips would be necessary. Joni turned off the alarm and flipped on the lights. “Just drop everything on the front counter for now.”

      Arden set down her load and looked around. The most fabulous mural drew her attention and she crossed the room to get a better look.

      “What do you think?” Joni asked, walking up behind her.

      “It’s great. Very dynamic.” And that was putting it mildly. It was one of the best pieces of art she’d ever seen. Not that she was an expert by any stretch of the imagination. But she had been dragged to art galleries more times than she cared to remember and had been exposed to top-tier art. This was definitely of that quality. It was not something she expected to see in a small-town youth center.

      “Isn’t it? The artist is Carmen Taylor. She grew up here and moved to New York some years ago, where she did quite well. From what I understand, she’s very famous in the art world. She donated this mural and designed the one outside. Volunteers painted that one, but she did this one herself. She’s getting married Saturday.”

      “To the chief of police. Trent somebody.”

      Joni arched her eyebrows. “My, my. You haven’t been in town twenty-four hours and already you’re in the know.”

      “Not really. Kristina Harrison mentioned the wedding yesterday. The bed-and-breakfast is full of wedding guests, which is why I couldn’t stay there.”

      “Brandon is catering the rehearsal dinner and the reception. It’s quite the coup. A few bigwigs from New York are coming. This could really help Brandon out.”

      “I thought his restaurant was doing well.”

      “It is. But he always says that if you aren’t growing and moving up, you’re stagnating and on your way down.”

      Arden nodded. She’d heard her father and brothers make similar statements over the years. Even though Wexford Industries was a huge corporation, the principle still applied.

      “Come on, let’s grab the rest.”

      When they stepped outside, Arden saw Brandon reaching into Joni’s trunk, two boxes near his feet while he hefted out another. His shirt was taut across the muscles of his back as they flexed with his movement. Arden’s mouth watered at the sight, but she managed to keep from drooling.

      “What are you doing here?” Joni asked, leaning against the bumper.

      “John called. I forgot to get Arden’s number and, as usual, your phone is turned off.”

      “Oops.” Joni didn’t sound even the tiniest bit sorry. She shrugged, picked up a couple of bags and carried them inside.

      Arden grabbed a box, eager to get away from the gorgeous man before she did something ridiculous like flirt or bat her eyelashes. The weight inside shifted and the box began to slip. Brandon reached out to help her steady the load. His hand brushed against her arm and her knees actually went weak. Her eyes flew to his and time seemed to stop. She found herself swaying closer to him.

      Kiss me. The stray thought caught her off guard and she jerked away from temptation, stumbling like a klutz over a box beside him. He grabbed her before she fell. The warmth from his hands sent heat coursing through her body. This was so not good.

      “Thanks,” Arden said breathlessly, and took a step toward the youth center, hoping to get away and gather herself.

      Brandon raised an eyebrow and stared at her as if he knew what she’d been thinking. “Don’t you want to know what he said?”

      “Who?”

      “John.” She must have looked as blank as she felt because he spoke the next words very slowly. “The guy who’s fixing your car.”

      “Oh, yeah. Right. What did he say?”

      “He towed it in, but he needs the keys. Once we get this stuff inside, I’ll drop you off at the garage.”

      The thought of their sitting shoulder to shoulder again in the cab of Brandon’s truck, his masculine scent swirling around her, tempted her to forget she was not interested in getting involved with another man. “You don’t have to do that. I’ve caused you enough trouble as it is.”

      “It’s not a problem,” Brandon replied as he hoisted a box onto his right shoulder and grabbed another under his left arm. “John’s place is on the way to my restaurant.”

      * * *

      Brandon glanced at the woman beside him and wondered, not for the first time, what the heck he was doing. Although he’d previously had no problem keeping women at arm’s distance, he was being drawn into Arden’s orbit. Worse, he was doing nothing to resist her pull. He knew Joni would have dropped Arden off at John’s garage, but instead he heard himself offering her a ride. What was it about her that had his mouth running miles ahead of his brain and leading his body in the totally wrong direction?

      Sure, she was pretty and liked some of the same things he did. Before Sylvia’s treachery, that would have been a good thing and he would have pursued her. Now... If he knew what was good for him he would stay away from her before she drew him in and made him feel things he didn’t want to feel ever again.

      The morning was warm with the promise of becoming a scorcher as the day wore on. The sun was shining in the cloudless sky so he pulled down the visor. Still, the sun was no match for the brilliance of Arden’s smile. It was almost hot enough to melt the ice encasing his heart. Almost. Lucky for him she was leaving soon or he might be in danger of letting her get too close.

      She peered out the window. “Sweet Briar has got to be the cutest place I’ve ever seen.”

      He bit back a sigh of relief. Talking about impersonal things was safe and easy. Figuring out his attraction to her and how to get control of it was not. “Our town is making a better impression on you today than last night?”

      “Oh, yeah. I can’t believe the difference a little sunlight makes. It looks like a picture postcard, advertising the perfect little town. The shops are so pretty with their striped awnings and old-fashioned signs. Best of all there’s not a chain restaurant in sight to ruin the effect. There’s not a stray branch or leaf in sight, either. If I hadn’t lived through it, I wouldn’t believe a storm blew through here only hours ago. It’s like elves or fairies cleaned up everything overnight.”

      “Fairies and elves?”

      “Okay. Shop owners.” Understanding lit her eyes. “That’s what you were doing this morning. Clearing the street and walkways around your restaurant.”

      “Guilty as charged.”

      He drove past Wilson’s Hardware and waved at Hank, grandson of the founder. Two doors down, Carlo and Mario Marconi were setting red-and-white-checkered tablecloths, vinyl place mats and napkin-wrapped