The Waitress's Secret. Kathy Douglass

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      “Chicago. I moved here three years ago.” A man who preferred to keep things on the surface, he didn’t normally volunteer information about himself. But being open seemed to put her at ease. So, as long as they kept to generalities, it was all good.

      She tilted her head and looked him over, a mischievous expression on her face. “Did the magnet catch you or did you stay by choice?”

      “Choice.” He hadn’t been able to leave Chicago and that lying Sylvia fast enough. When a friend mentioned his cousins loved living in Sweet Briar, Brandon had been on the first plane to North Carolina.

      Arden nodded, then turned to look out the window. Lightning flashed, followed by loud, booming thunder. The rain was coming down too fast for the drainage system to keep up. At the rate water was beginning to flood the road, he wouldn’t be surprised if several streets in town were already closed.

      After several frustrating minutes of inching down the highway and ten minutes spent sitting under an overpass when the downpour made driving too hazardous, they finally saw the sign welcoming them to Sweet Briar, population 1,976. He heard his passenger’s sigh of relief and wondered if maybe she was more nervous than she let on.

      “Is there a hotel where you can drop me? Or, better yet, a garage where I can arrange a tow?”

      “No hotel. We only have a couple of bed-and-breakfasts.” He wiped the condensation off the windshield and leaned forward for a better look. Just as he thought. There was close to three inches of water on the roads and the level was rising. “We have a garage, but I’m sure John has closed up for the night.”

      She checked her watch, then glanced over at him, disbelief on her lovely face. “It’s only five o’clock.”

      “He generally closes around four thirty or five. You know, small town.”

      “I guess.” She agreed but still looked doubtful. “Is there another mechanic in town?”

      “Nope. Just John. And, to be honest, the way the streets are flooding, he probably wouldn’t tow you now anyway.”

      Arden considered a minute. “Okay. Then I guess you can just drop me at the B and B.”

      “No problem. The Sunrise B and B is just a couple of blocks away. Call John in the morning. Let him know you’re in a hurry and he’ll have you back on the road in no time.”

      “Thanks.”

      “Kristina will be able to give you John’s number. She owns the B and B, by the way.”

      “Speaking of calling.” Arden pulled out her phone and checked it. Grinning, she held it up to him. “Bars. I have bars. I’m out of the seventies.”

      Brandon blinked. “What?”

      She laughed. “I couldn’t get service where the car died.”

      He nodded his understanding. “Ah. Gotcha. Cell service is spotty in this area. It takes some getting used to. But you shouldn’t have trouble in town.”

      “That’s good to know.”

      He pulled in front of an old Victorian mansion that Kristina Harrison had converted into a thriving business.

      Arden peered out the window. At that moment, lightning streaked across the sky and thunder rolled. “You called this the Sunrise B and B?”

      “Yeah.”

      “It looks more like a haunted house.” She glanced at the building and then back at him. “You sure Herman and Lily don’t live here?”

      He barked out a surprised laugh. So she liked the old sixties television show The Munsters. So did he. “I’m positive. Although the name of the street is Mockingbird Lane.”

      “Are you kidding me? The Munsters lived at 1313 Mockingbird Lane.”

      “Yeah. I’m kidding. This is Rose Street.”

      She shook her small fist at him. “That’s so not funny.”

      Brandon resisted the urge to laugh but couldn’t suppress a smile. “Yeah, it was.”

      She grinned with him. “Okay, it was.”

      “I know this place looks spooky in this storm, but it’s actually a well-kept building. And the inside is great. You’ll be comfortable.”

      “Have you ever stayed here?”

      “Well, no. I have a house in town. But trust me. Kristina Harrison has great taste. And she’s a nice person. You’ll be fine.”

      “Okay.”

      “Stay here. I’ll help you.” He was halfway around the front of the truck when the passenger door opened and Arden hopped out. A splash was followed by a squeal.

      “I know. I know. Don’t say it.” She laughed as she stepped onto the curb. “I just thought I could get out and save you the trouble.”

      He shook his head. How much trouble could it be to help her out of his truck and carry her across a few puddles? Apparently, she’d rather do that crazy hop-tiptoe step through several inches of cold water than wait for his assistance. He understood the need to be independent since he liked to do things for himself as well, so he resisted the urge to sweep her into his arms and carry her to the stairs, even though it meant getting drenched again. He did stay close by, ready to catch her if she stumbled.

      She finally slip-slid her way to the stairs and grabbed a railing. Letting out a breath, he climbed the steps beside her, eager to reach the porch and get them both out of the driving rain. He rang the doorbell and in less than a minute the glass door swung open.

      “Goodness. Get in here before you catch pneumonia,” Kristina said, motioning for them to enter.

      “Thanks.” Brandon stepped aside to let Arden go before him.

      * * *

      Arden didn’t need to be told twice. She stepped inside the door held open by a pretty woman who looked to be in her midtwenties. Brandon closed the door behind them and made the introductions.

      “I’ll grab some towels so you can dry off,” Kristina said. Arden hated the idea of tracking water across the gleaming marble floors, but when the woman gave her a gentle nudge, she moved toward the sitting room. Two comfy-looking sofas flanked a fireplace that Arden wished was lit. Kristina bustled out of the room.

      “Brandon, what brings you and your friend out on such a horrible night?” she said as she hurried back, carrying two fluffy towels. She handed one to Arden, who blotted her face, then began drying her arms.

      Brandon took the other towel and smiled at Kristina. For a split second illogical possessiveness and jealousy battled for dominance inside Arden, which didn’t make sense. Why should she care who Brandon smiled at? She’d only just met the man. Besides, men were snakes. Just because she hadn’t heard him rattle didn’t mean he didn’t bite. Arden definitely wasn’t interested in being bitten again.

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