The Waitress's Secret. Kathy Douglass

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СКАЧАТЬ laughed suddenly and pointed out her window. “Fit To Be Dyed Beauty Shop. Is that where little old ladies go to get their hair tinted Easter-egg blue?”

      Brandon huffed out a laugh. He couldn’t help it. Her quirky sense of humor appealed to him. He was almost sorry to reach their destination. Howard and Son’s Garage was across the street from the salon. He parked, turned off the engine and opened his door.

      Arden placed her hand on his arm and stopped him from getting out. Her skin was warm and soft and awakened feelings in him he’d rather remained dormant. He’d never responded that way to such an innocent touch. “You don’t need to go in with me. You must have a hundred things to do.”

      That was true, yet he wanted to insist on accompanying her. But why should he? John was totally trustworthy. Joni had already volunteered to pick her up when she was finished. Not only that, Arden wasn’t his responsibility. He wasn’t going to fall back into the habit of rescuing women. Hadn’t he just been thinking he needed to maintain his distance? Becoming more involved in her life and her problems was the total opposite of that.

      He nodded and restarted the truck, forcing himself to drive off the minute she stepped onto the sidewalk. He needed to get a grip, and fast.

      * * *

      Arden stepped into the building and looked around. A black leather couch that had seen better days was pushed against a windowless wall, a glass coffee table covered with magazines inches in front of it. The smell of oil and brake fluid filled the air. Clanging sounds mingled with Bruce Springsteen, and a howling noise that almost sounded like singing came from the back of the shop.

      She crossed the empty waiting room to the laminate counter that divided it from the work area. There was a small silver bell on the counter and she gave it a good ring. A few moments later the noise stopped and the volume on the Springsteen song was lowered.

      “Hi. How can I help you?”

      She glanced up into smiling brown eyes in a round tan face. “Are you John?”

      “In the flesh.” He wiped his hands on a stained rag, then shoved the cloth into the pocket of his blue-striped coveralls. He leaned against the counter and swiped a yellow sucker from a bowl. “My wife insisted I give up smoking when she was pregnant with our first child. Now I’m hooked on these.”

      Arden laughed. “Brandon sent me.”

      “Ah, so you’re Arden.”

      She nodded and looked longingly at the candy.

      He slid the bowl across the counter. “Help yourself. I buy them by the gross. I haven’t had a chance to get to your car yet. Emma Johnson’s daughter had her baby a month early, so she needs to get to Tennessee as soon as possible to help out. There’s no way I could let her hit the road without checking her car first. It’s a good thing I did. She needed new brakes and a tune-up. I have a couple more cars to get to, so I might not get to yours for a bit.”

      “Okay.” Arden was astonished by how easily he spilled another person’s business. She hoped he wouldn’t be as free with her information as he was with this Emma person’s.

      “Is my car in the back?”

      “Yep.” He chewed his sucker, then tossed the stick into a trash can.

      “I need to get some things out.”

      “Sure. I need the keys from you anyway.”

      He grabbed a couple more suckers before leading her to her car. They passed a small office. A pink dollhouse and large cardboard building blocks were squeezed beside a cluttered desk. “Every once in a while I have to bring my kids with me. Toys keep them out of trouble. If not, there’s always Attica.”

      “Attica? Like the prison?”

      He nodded toward a folded playpen. “They hate that thing. Can’t much say I blame them.”

      Arden grinned and followed him through the work area and out a steel door. Her Beetle was parked in a small paved lot between a late-model Cadillac and a classic Mustang. After retrieving her overnight bag, she dropped the keys into the mechanic’s hand.

      “Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of her.”

      “Thanks.” She left the garage and paused outside, not sure where to go. Her cell phone rang and she set down her suitcase. Arden glanced at the screen and groaned. Jax. No doubt she was on speakerphone. She knew Jax would do all the talking, but Blake would be listening. Her brothers meant well, but they were smothering her and driving her crazy by being so overprotective.

      “Hello.” She sounded calm and mentally patted herself on the back.

      “Where are you? You were supposed to call last night. The hotel in Virginia said you checked out yesterday morning.”

      “I’m fine, Jackson. There’s no need for you to worry.”

      “Of course there is. You finally broke up with that no-good bum. Instead of turning to Blake or me, you go halfway across the country.”

      She pulled her suitcase over to a black iron bench and sat. This could take a while, so she might as well be comfortable. “Florida is on the same side of the country.”

      “You know what I mean.”

      She did. He wanted her to stay in Baltimore where they could wrap her up in cotton balls to keep her from getting hurt. If they could, they’d keep her from having problems, which in essence was keeping her from having a life. Barring that, they wanted to jump in and solve them for her. That was part of the reason she needed to get away. It would be too easy for her to fall back into her old ways and lean on them instead of standing on her own two feet. She’d never gain their respect if she continued to let them bail her out. She was willing to admit she had played a part in their relationship becoming unequal. If it was to change, she knew she had to do things differently.

      “Since you haven’t made it to Florida yet, why don’t you just turn around and come home?”

      And run the risk of seeing Michael-the-pig? Not for a lifetime supply of chocolate-covered pecans. “No.”

      There was a long pause and she could just envision them whispering furiously as they plotted their next move. Heaven help her from meddling brothers. A bird flew down from its perch in the tree and landed on the edge of a flowerpot overflowing with purple, orange, red and yellow blooms. The wind blew and the scent of the flowers filled her nostrils and she sighed. The bird turned at the sound, then hopped into the flower bed where it began digging in the dirt, perhaps looking for a worm.

      “We want to help.”

      Her brother’s voice pulled her attention away from the bird and back to her situation. “I know you do. And I love you both for it. I just need space.”

      “We understand that. But we need to know you’re okay.”

      She blew out a breath. Just because she was ready to cut the apron strings didn’t mean they were. But she was willing to take baby steps to help them along. At least for now. “I’ll call you every Sunday.”

      “And Wednesday.”

      “No СКАЧАТЬ