Today’s Special: The Undercover Heiress!

On the run after a bad breakup, wealthy city girl Arden Wexford ends up stranded in small town Sweet Briar. When hunky chef Brandon Danielson comes to her rescue, offering shelter and a waitressing job until her car is fixed, she reluctantly accepts. But, wanting Brandon to like her for her, not for her money, she doesn’t mention her rich roots. The closer they get, the harder it is to untell the lie.

Brandon came here to start over. Things weren’t as they seemed with his ex-fiancée, and he got burned! But is it out of the frying pan, into the fire for Brandon as things heat up with this very special waitress?

Kiss me.

The stray thought caught her off guard and she jerked away from temptation, stumbling like a klutz over a box. Brandon 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.

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 sitting shoulder to shoulder again in the cab of his truck, his masculine scent swirling around her, tempted her to forget she wasn’t interested in getting involved with another man. “You don’t have to do that.”

“It’s not a problem,” Brandon replied as he hoisted a box onto his right shoulder.

Then he glanced at the woman before him and wondered, not for the first time, what the heck he was doing.

* * *

SWEET BRIAR SWEETHEARTS: There’s something about Sweet Briar...

The Waitress’s Secret

Kathy Douglass

www.millsandboon.co.uk

KATHY DOUGLASS came by her love of reading naturally—both of her parents were readers. She would finish one book and pick up another. Then she attended law school and traded romances for legal opinions.

After the birth of her two children, her love of reading turned into a love of writing. Kathy now spends her days writing the small-town contemporary novels she enjoys reading.

This book is dedicated with love and appreciation to the following people:

To my best friend, Joya, who has been a true friend since the day we met. Thanks for reminding me that I wanted to be a writer.

To Ehryck, Teri and Sandra, who celebrated with me when I signed my first contract.

To Lauren Canan, the best critique partner on the planet.

To my editor, Charles Griemsman, who helps make my books better than even I could imagine.

To my mother-in-law and father-in-law, who raised my husband to be the most wonderful man in the world.

To my siblings, for a lifetime of love and support. A special mention to Marc, who actually did refer to his daughters’ playpen as Attica.

To my parents, who loved and supported me in everything I did.

And last, but certainly not least, to my husband and sons, who fill my life with love and happiness. I love all of you more than you can ever imagine.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

Arden Wexford pounded on the steering wheel, then turned the ignition key one more time. Still dead. Funny how that worked. Apparently the nineteenth time wasn’t the charm. Sighing heavily, she got out of her car and slammed the door, releasing a bit of frustration. She looked under the hood even though she didn’t have the foggiest idea what she was searching for.

Her great big adventure, as she had been sarcastically referring to it since her beloved Beetle had broken down, wasn’t turning out the way she’d planned. If things had gone the way she’d intended, she would be closer to her parents’ house in Florida by now. Instead, she was stranded in Nowhere, North Carolina. She wished she’d driven the Mercedes sedan her parents had given her when she’d graduated from college two years ago. But her candy-red Bug felt like a big hug from her brothers. Driving it always made her happy. After the disaster with Michael-the-jerk, she needed cheering.

Now, though, she wished she had driven the old-lady car. She’d be that much farther away from Baltimore and men willing to stoop to the lowest depths to turn her money into theirs. She was done with greedy men. She was going to hole up in her parents’ winter home and enjoy life away from the vipers.

If she ever got out of North Carolina.

She kicked the tire of the offending vehicle even though it wasn’t to blame for her predicament. It was properly inflated and ready to roll. All it needed was the car to start.

Arden considered turning the key for the twentieth time, but decided against it. Twenty wasn’t going to be any luckier than nineteen. And if she didn’t want to spend the night on the side of the road hoping that 2,019 was the charm, she needed to start walking.

She locked the car, then dug through her purse and grabbed her cell phone. She glanced at the screen one more time, hoping that service bars would magically appear. None did.

She’d passed a road sign a couple of miles back indicating she was six miles from some town she’d never heard of. Small Briar or something like that. It couldn’t be more than four or so miles away. She ran that far most mornings at her health club. Of course the walk would be easier if she wasn’t wearing her cute-to-look-at-but-not-good-for-much-else high-heeled sandals. They were perfect for the airplane flight she’d originally planned. But then her brother commandeered the family jet at the last minute to fly to Monte Carlo for a meeting at one of the Wexford luxury hotels. He’d invited her to come along to relax while he worked, but she’d declined. Her brothers might not mind having their pictures appear in gossip rags catering to people enamored of the rich and famous, but she did. So, she’d decided to drive.

Traffic on the highway was light, with cars passing only occasionally. None of the drivers so much as slowed down. Weren’t people in the South supposed to be friendly? Not that she blamed them. She’d never pick up a stranger. And, truthfully, she wasn’t sure she’d take a ride even if one was offered.

The day had started out warm and breezy with a clear blue sky. Her T-shirt and color-coordinated skirt had been perfect then, but in the past twenty or so minutes, the temperature had plunged. The cool wind made her long for a sweater. Dark clouds were gathering and the sky was growing threatening. The smell of rain filled the air. She remembered hearing something about a storm in the weather forecast, but since she hadn’t expected to still be in the area, she hadn’t paid close attention.

Arden picked up her pace, hoping to get to shelter before the clouds burst and she got drenched. After walking about a mile, she checked her cell phone for service again. Still none. Amazing. Her car, which couldn’t make it from Baltimore to Tampa, had somehow managed time travel, propelling her into the Dark Ages.

Well, there was no use crying over it. She’d just have to keep walking. She eased a foot from her sandal and shook out yet another pebble. Rubbing her right foot on top of her left, she wondered if shoes that cost nearly a thousand dollars shouldn’t be as comfortable as they were beautiful.

Arden slid her foot back into her sandal and, after promising herself a good foot massage as soon as she reached civilization, continued her trek to town. She’d taken a handful of steps when a late-model silver pickup pulled to a stop several yards ahead of her. The driver’s door opened and a giant of a man got out. He closed the door and walked around to the back of the truck.

He had thick dreadlocks that were pulled back into a ponytail that hung to the middle of his back. His shoulders were so wide that she imagined he took up more than his share of an airline seat. His broad shoulders only emphasized his flat stomach and trim hips.

He was truly handsome, with dark chocolate skin, a jaw that could only be described as rugged and black eyes that quickly scanned her from head to toe before returning to meet her gaze. A shiver that had nothing to do with the temperature danced down her spine.

Although he had not done anything remotely intimidating, every warning her parents and older brothers had drilled into her since birth about stranger danger raced through her mind. Weren’t rich kids always at risk of being kidnapped and held for ransom? Arden looked around. There wasn’t another car in sight. She was alone on a deserted highway with a huge man. And no cell service. She stumbled back, cursing her high-heeled shoes.

As if sensing her trepidation, the man backed up until he bumped into his truck, his hands raised, palms out. “I’m not going to hurt you. I want to help you. I passed your car a couple miles back. That is, if you’re driving a red Beetle.”

His voice was deep, and she noted that he spoke in a calm manner as if soothing a child. She nodded.

“You’ve walked a long way. You still have about two miles to go until you reach Sweet Briar.” He looked up at the darkening sky. “There’s a severe thunderstorm warning in effect. Hop in and I’ll drop you off in town.”

Although he seemed harmless, her family’s lessons were too deeply ingrained to cast off simply because a guy had a smooth disc-jockey voice.

Arden shook her head. “Thanks. That’s really nice of you to offer, but I’ll walk. A little rain never hurt anybody. Besides, it’s not raining yet. Maybe it won’t.”

On cue, lightning streaked across the sky, followed by a loud clap of thunder. And then it started to rain.

“I really don’t mind giving you a lift.”

Arden tilted her head as she stared at him. Something was off. Although the words were correct and his posture nonthreatening, he didn’t appear at all pleased to offer her the ride. He was grimacing and seemed to be forcing the words out of his mouth as if he really didn’t want to say them. He reminded her of a reluctant twelve-year-old whose mother kept poking him in the back, prodding him to ask a girl to dance. That reluctance certainly didn’t engender confidence.

“No, thanks. I’ll take my chances with the rain.” It was becoming more of a steady downfall by the second but, still, wet was better than dead or whatever else he might have in mind.

* * *

Brandon stared at the woman, wondering if she’d lost her mind. Her hair was plastered to her head and water streamed down her face. Her T-shirt, a pale gray with some sort of orange-and-pink design, now clung to her breasts and tiny waist. He had a feeling she had not as yet realized that her top was fast becoming transparent, revealing the lacy white bra she wore beneath it. She was getting soaked to the bone and she wanted to walk?

Of course she did. That was the cherry on top of a perfectly terrible day. He’d wasted hours in a bank being shuffled from person to person as he unsuccessfully tried to straighten out a mess with the restaurant’s account. Now he was wasting even more time standing in the pouring rain trying to convince a stubborn woman to accept his help.

He was tired and irritated and ready to put this day behind him, but he couldn’t in good conscience leave her to hoof it to town. It was out of the question. His parents and grandparents had raised him too well to leave her stranded. He could practically hear his father reminding him that a gentleman never left a woman in distress while his mother stood in the background, nodding and murmuring in agreement.

He rubbed a hand across his neck.

The woman lifted her cute little chin in hardheaded resolve.

“Look, I can’t just leave you here. I have a sister, and I hope someone would stop and offer assistance if her car broke down. I also hope she’d have sense enough to take the ride.”

“Even with a man she’s never seen before in her life?”

Brandon huffed out a breath. She had him there. “My name is Brandon Danielson. I own a restaurant in Sweet Briar.”

He reached into the back pocket of his jeans, removed his driver’s license from his wallet and held it up for her to see although he doubted she could read it from the distance that separated them. “This is me. You can keep it if it makes you feel better. Hell, you can drive if that’s what it takes for you to feel safe.”

She nodded but still looked unsure. “Okay,” she finally agreed. “Thanks.”

“Thank me after we get out of this storm.”

Slipping and sliding on the unpaved shoulder, the woman reached the passenger door. She stepped on the running board of the truck, then grabbed at the hanging strap to pull herself up the rest of the way. Suddenly her foot slid out from under her. Instinctively, he reached out to help her, grabbing her around her impossibly small waist.

The feel of her soft body sent a jolt of awareness surging through him. He set her away as quickly as he could and frowned at the reaction of his body. He was a Good Samaritan, not some player picking up women on the side of the road.

“I’m going to help you into the truck.” Before she could respond, he lifted her into his arms and settled her into the passenger seat. Even soaking wet, she couldn’t have weighed more than a hundred and fifteen or twenty pounds. Closing her door, he lost no time getting to the other side and slipping behind the wheel. As soon as he started the truck and the air began to circulate, he got a whiff of her scent. Man, she smelled good. Like rain and shampoo—which was expected—but also like sunshine and flowers. Like happiness. Where had that come from? He shook his head slightly in the hope the foolishness would rattle out his ears, then glanced at his passenger.

Even with most of her makeup washed off, she was incredibly beautiful. She had remarkably clear caramel-colored skin and light brown eyes. With high cheekbones and a perfectly shaped nose and lips, she could have been a model. Of course, he would have appreciated her beauty more if he didn’t need to start building an ark. And, like any beautiful work of art, she was best viewed from a distance. He would do well to keep that in mind.

She returned his glance with wide eyes. Her teeth were chattering, whether from nerves or because she was drenched and cold, he didn’t know. Maybe a little of both. He flipped on the heater and edged back onto the road. The wipers were on the fastest setting, yet they could barely keep up with the downfall.

“The truck has heated seats. And there’s a jacket in the back you can use.”

She moved her hand off the door handle and pressed the button he indicated. “I don’t need your jacket. I’m fine. Besides, you’re just as wet as I am.”

“Maybe.” He reached behind the seat and grabbed his denim jacket. “But perhaps you should look at your shirt. You might reconsider.”

She looked down and squeaked. “I look like a refugee from a wet T-shirt contest.”

He couldn’t help chuckling as she took the jacket and draped it over her torso. Although her breasts weren’t nearly the size of the women’s who entered such contests, they were still appealing. Not that he was looking. Much.

“What’s your name?”

The question really wasn’t that difficult, yet she hesitated as if trying to find the right answer. “It’s Arden... Arden W...West.”

“So, Arden, what brings you to North Carolina?”

She raised a suspicious eyebrow and leaned closer to her door. “How do you know I’m not from here?”

“No accent. You don’t have that Southern way of speaking.”

She nodded. “True.”

“And I saw your car, remember? Maryland plates.”

“Oh.” She heaved out a breath. A bit of remorse fell over her fine features and the stiffness left her spine.

“So, what brings you to our neck of the woods?”

“My car broke down here.” Arden had an impish smile on her face, which hit him in the center of his chest with unexpected force, momentarily making breathing hard.

“Sweet Briar is a small town. There’s a magnetic field that captures new people and won’t let them leave. Sort of like the Hotel California.”

“Where you can check out but never leave?”

Brandon nodded, pleased that she understood his reference to the classic Eagles song.

“Are you from here?”

“No.”

When he didn’t say anything more, she looked at him, her eyebrows raised in question.

“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.

As they dried themselves off, Brandon explained about Arden’s car breaking down on the highway.

“Oh, you poor thing. How awful,” Kristina said, shaking her head.

Brandon rubbed the towel over his face, his enormous chest muscles flexing. A jolt of awareness shot through her, and Arden suddenly went from chilled to overheated. She rubbed the towel over her hair, reminding herself that a beautiful body didn’t necessarily translate to a good heart. Though, to be fair, he had been more than kind so far. And he didn’t even know she was rich.

“I gave her a lift and brought her here. She needs a place to stay the night.”

“Oh, no. I’m booked. Carmen and Trent’s wedding is this weekend. People started arriving this afternoon.”

“So early? It’s only Monday.”

“Apparently, some of the guests are turning this trip into a vacation. Sweet Briar has become a popular destination in the past couple years. In fact, I’m filled for most of the summer.” Kristina turned to Arden to include her in the conversation. “Trent is our chief of police and a great guy. His first wife was killed in a car accident a few years back. How long ago was it, Brandon?”

He shrugged his massive shoulders. “It was before my time.”

Kristina turned back to Arden. “Anyway, Carmen was born here but moved to New York years ago. She came back for her mother’s funeral, God rest her soul. Anyhow, they fell in love and are getting married. Don’t you just love a happy ending?”

Kristina sighed. Arden sneezed.

“Bless you. I’m so sorry I don’t have a place for you to stay. I would suggest the Come On Inn, even though Reginald Thomas annoys me enough to make me swear, but they’re booked, too. Of course we were filled days before they were. They only got our overflow.”

Arden nodded and rubbed the towel over her legs. She really needed to get out of these wet clothes.

“So, what are you going to do?” Kristina asked. It was clear to Arden that the other woman was sincerely concerned, which surprised her, given that they were complete strangers.

“The only thing we can do. I’m taking her home with me.”

Chapter Two

“You’re taking me home with you?” Arden asked the minute they were alone in his truck. “There has to be somewhere else I can stay the night.”

Brandon glanced over at Arden. She was watching him almost as closely as she had when he’d picked her up on the highway. He could understand her unease although she had nothing to be afraid of. “You heard Kristina. Both bed-and-breakfasts are filled. There’s not another place in town. There are a couple of chain hotels twenty or so miles down the highway, but I’m not sure all the roads are passable. And, even if we make it, there’s no guarantee they’ll have rooms available.”

She nodded, but she didn’t appear pleased by his answer. Still, she couldn’t argue the facts. The rain showed no sign of letting up anytime soon. Truth be told, he wished there was somewhere else she could spend the night. He’d rather be done with the whole thing, too, but he had picked her up and now bore some responsibility for her welfare. He couldn’t just dump her on the side of the road in the middle of a storm and bid her adieu. He’d arrange for her to get her car towed to town first thing in the morning so she could go on her merry way. Surely that would be enough chivalry to satisfy even his parents.

He started the truck and drove down the street, passing the town’s lone gas station. The lights over the pumps were dim, casting odd shadows on the street. Not a soul was around. “You’ll be perfectly safe. My sister, Joni, lives with me.”

“And she’ll be there?”

He nodded and stopped at the corner. He grabbed his cell phone, punched in his home number and put the phone on speaker. Joni answered on the third ring.

“Hey, Brandon.”

“Joni, I’ll be home in a couple of minutes. I’m bringing someone with me.”

Joni laughed. “I know. I just got off the phone with Kristina.”

“That woman is in the wrong business. She should be a reporter.”

Joni laughed again. “Can your friend hear me?”

“Yeah.”

Brandon looked at Arden, who smiled tentatively.

“Don’t worry. My brother is perfectly harmless. And I know you’re soaked to the skin. I have dry clothes ready for you to change into.”

“Thanks. I really appreciate it.”

“Not a problem.”

Brandon ended the call and looked at Arden. “Better?”

She smiled and for a second the sun seemed to break through the clouds. He felt a stirring where his heart used to be and immediately quashed it.

“Much better. Thanks for calling her.”

“Sure. I can’t have you worried about your safety like some woman in a horror story.”

Arden glanced at the dark street. The wind was blowing the trees every which way, casting shadows that shifted so much they looked like arms reaching out to grab something. “It does look kind of creepy out here. Like some chainsaw-wielding maniac could jump from a dark corner and attack us. Well, me anyway. You’re kind of big for someone to mess with.”

Brandon continued driving. “Don’t worry. There’s no one hiding in the shadows or anywhere else. And if someone did try to hurt you, I’d protect you.”

The grateful look she sent him made his chest grow tight and warmed the cold bitterness in his soul. He rubbed his hand across the raised scar near his heart as a reminder to keep his emotional distance. The last time he’d gotten close to a woman he’d ended up in intensive care. It was okay to be friendly—Arden needed that to be at ease. But genial chatter was one thing; an emotional connection was something entirely different.

“My brothers always said I have a vivid imagination. Which is why I never watch scary movies.”

“Never?”

“Not ever. Afterward, I’d be so busy checking under my bed and jumping at every bump in the night that I’d never get any sleep.”

He nodded. “That’s our house right there. Third one on the left.”

Arden leaned back in her seat and sighed. “It looks normal from here.”

“We keep the dragon in the basement.”

“That’s good to know.” She leaned forward and peered out the window at the rising water. “What I really want to know is where you keep the rowboat.”

“Not interested in wading through the water again?”

“No.” She looked down at her ruined sandals. “Once was enough for me. I think I can cross that off my bucket list.”

“Walking through rainwater up to your ankles was on your bucket list?”

She lifted the corner of her mouth in a mischievous grin. “I want to have a wide range of experiences.”

“I’m glad we could oblige,” he said, pulling into the driveway.

* * *

Less than a minute later they were running through the large backyard and racing up a flight of stairs. A woman Arden assumed was Brandon’s sister opened the door and stepped back to let them inside. She had friendly eyes and introduced herself with a bright smile.

“It’s really coming down out there,” Joni said, closing the door against the wind. Arden slipped off her damp and muddy sandals and placed them beside the door so she wouldn’t track mud through the house. Joni led the way through the utility room and into the kitchen. The room was huge, with restaurant-quality appliances. There were miles of glistening marble countertops. A solid wood farmhouse table sat near an unlit stone fireplace. Wonderful aromas floated in the air and Arden’s stomach growled.

“Sorry.” Cheeks burning, Arden placed a hand over her stomach, trying to muffle the sound.

Joni waved away Arden’s apology. “Don’t be. You’re not only soaked to the bone, you’re also hungry. If I were you I’d be grabbing food from the pots with my bare hands.”

Arden laughed, her embarrassment dissipating. She liked Joni.

“I’ve got some dry clothes for you that will fit better than my brother’s jacket. Come on, you can take a quick shower and get warm. You’ll feel a lot better. It’ll be a few minutes before dinner’s ready.”

Warm water and dry clothes sounded wonderful. “Are you sure you don’t mind? I don’t want to put you out.”

“Nonsense. It’s no bother.”

“Thanks.”

“The stairs are this way.”

Joni put her arm around Arden in a sisterly way and led her farther into the house. Although Arden had run as fast as she dared through the slippery yard, she’d still gotten drenched again. She hated dripping onto the beautiful hardwood floor, but she couldn’t strip in the kitchen.

Joni didn’t seem to mind about the mess, and seconds later they were climbing a flight of stairs. Brandon followed them in silence.

“You can use this room,” Joni said, opening a door to a bedroom and stepping through to the en suite. “Brandon had some renovations done to the house when we moved here. He turned a couple of tiny rooms into bathrooms. I didn’t agree with his decision at first, but I totally love it now.”

As she talked, Joni bustled about the room, pulling plush towels out of a linen closet, then stacking them on the marble counter. She grabbed bottles of shampoo and conditioner and several different types of body wash from a cabinet beside the sink. “I’ll be right back.”

Arden nodded, grateful when the other woman returned with a stack of dry clothes.

After Joni left, Arden took one look in the mirror and groaned. Her makeup was completely washed off, but her face was far from clean. Somehow mud had gotten spattered on her cheeks, with one long smear down the side of her face. Her wet hair was wind whipped and going in every direction. She ran her hand through it and discovered a leaf-covered twig had gotten tangled in her mane, completing the puppy-playing-in-a-mud-puddle look. She stripped and stepped into the shower.

A moan of pure pleasure escaped her lips as the hot water began to warm her, slowing the chatter of her teeth. No shower had ever felt this good. If it wasn’t for the fact that her hosts were waiting for her, she’d spend the next hour letting the warm water pound every ache out of her body. As a guest, an unexpected one at that, it would be rude to linger.

She hurriedly poured shampoo into her hands and quickly lathered her hair. Joni used the same brand she did and the familiar scent soothed the last of Arden’s nerves. Her remaining tension disappeared down the drain with the bubbles.

She gathered her wet clothes and placed them on the counter. She would ask Joni where she could launder them later. Joni had left an assortment of clothes and she sorted through them before selecting a long-sleeved cotton top and denim pants. The jeans were a little long, so she rolled them up before pulling on socks and heading downstairs.

When she’d entered the house, she’d been too cold and uncomfortable to give more than a cursory glance at her surroundings. Now, though, she looked carefully. The house was a wonderful blend of old charm and modern convenience. The rooms had wide baseboards and crown molding around the high ceilings. Painted white, they were a nice accent to the darker-colored walls.

The furniture in the living room, while stylish, had clearly been chosen for comfort. With randomly placed pillows and a throw tossed over a leather ottoman, this room was used for living and not just for show.

Arden heard voices coming from the back of the house and followed them to the kitchen. The aromas wafting through the air reminded her that it had been hours since she’d eaten lunch. If scarfing down a hot dog and bag of chips in her car qualified as eating lunch.

“Come sit down. Dinner is just about ready.” Joni pointed to a seat at the table. A small vase of wildflowers was in the center. The curtains were closed so Arden couldn’t see the storm. She could hear it, though. The rain pounded on the windows like it was trying to get in, and the wind howled like an injured animal. This was definitely not a night to be outside. And if it wasn’t for Brandon, she’d be out in this wicked weather.

Arden glanced at Brandon. He’d changed into a gray polo shirt that pulled tight across his barrel chest and loose-fitting jeans that couldn’t disguise his muscular thighs. The man put all the statues she’d studied in her art-history class to shame.

She shook her head. What was wrong with her? She’d seen plenty of handsome men in her life, yet she didn’t gawk at them like some teenager with no home training. “I can’t thank you enough for your hospitality and the clothes, Joni. I’ll return them as soon as possible.”

Joni smiled. “Don’t worry about it. I have way more clothes than I need.” She then fixed her brother with a mock glare. “Don’t say a word.”

“I didn’t open my mouth.”

“Good.”

“But if I had said anything, it would be that you have more clothes than any three people need.” Joni tossed a linen napkin at him. He caught it with ease and dropped it onto the counter. Then he pulled open the oven door for a quick look and nodded with apparent satisfaction.

Arden watched them banter back and forth with a smile on her face. It was clear to her they not only loved each other, they genuinely liked each other. They were friends.

She sighed wistfully. She wished she could say the same of her relationship with her brothers. She knew they loved her. They’d do anything for her. But Blake and Jax were stuck in protective-big-brother mode. To them, she was still the child who got into jams and waited for them to bail her out, which they’d done without fail. She’d grown up, but they hadn’t noticed. Because they didn’t view her as an adult, their relationship hadn’t evolved to the point of friendship.

And the near disaster with Michael-the-sneak wouldn’t help them see her as an equal. Which was why she had told them only that she’d ended the relationship, keeping the disgusting details to herself.

Brandon stirred, then began ladling soup out of a pot into large bowls while Joni placed warm bread on the table.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Arden asked, shoving aside the depressing thoughts.

“Not a thing,” Joni said, taking the bowls from her brother and setting one before Arden. “Just relax.”

Brandon joined them. As he scooted his chair closer to the table, the scent of soap teased her nostrils and her heart began to beat double time. He looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to sample her food before he ate.

Arden picked up a spoon and sipped her soup. Incredible flavors exploded in her mouth. She’d eaten at some of the best restaurants in the world, but nothing compared to this Italian sausage soup. Before she could stop it, a moan of unadulterated pleasure slipped from between her lips.

Brandon stared at her, his dark eyes unreadable. For a moment their gazes locked and time stood still. Her breath caught in her throat. Trapped like a fly in a web, Arden couldn’t look away to save her life.

“My, my,” Joni said with a laugh, looking from Brandon to Arden.

Joni’s voice broke the spell, freeing Arden from Brandon’s hypnotic gaze.

“Sorry.” She looked down at the bowl to hide her embarrassment. What is wrong with me? She looked at Joni. “This soup is the best thing I’ve ever tasted in my life. You’re a great cook.”

Joni shook her head. “Not me. I can’t toast bread without burning it. Brandon is the chef.”

Arden risked a glance at him, warning herself not to get caught in those dark, amazing eyes again. “You made this? Wow. It’s wonderful.”

“Thanks.” His voice sounded strained and low. He’d been charming in the car, but now he seemed more reserved with her. It was as if he regretted their earlier camaraderie.

“Brandon is chef and owner of the most popular restaurant in the state. Heaven on Earth.”

“The name fits,” Arden added, wishing her bowl was larger. She’d just hit bottom when Brandon removed her empty dish. A couple moments later he returned with three plates.

“Be careful,” Brandon said, setting the dishes on the table. “It’s hot.”

“This looks wonderful. What is it?”

“Oven-roasted sea bass with oranges, tomatoes and olives.”

Arden stared at him in amazement. “You made all of this while I was in the shower?”

“No. I prepared it earlier today. Joni put it in the oven when we got home.”

She took a bite and this time managed to stifle the sound of pleasure that threatened to escape. The perfect combination of flavors was unlike anything she had ever experienced, even during the summer after high school she’d spent in France and Italy.

Joni sipped her drink, then looked at Arden. “Where were you headed when your car broke down?”

“Don’t be so nosy,” Brandon said, shaking his head.

Joni waved away his comment like she would a pesky gnat, then looked at Arden expectantly. Ordinarily Arden would be annoyed by such a personal question from a complete stranger. But Joni didn’t feel like a stranger, she felt like a friend. “I’m on my way to Florida.”

“For vacation? A new job?”

Arden shook her head. “Neither. I just need to get away for a while.”

“From what?” Brandon asked, apparently forgetting the no-prying rule.

“I thought we weren’t going to be nosy,” Joni pointed out.

Brandon glared playfully at his sister, then smiled at Arden. “Sorry. Forget I said anything.”

“No, it’s okay. A relationship I was in ended badly. I just needed some space to get my head together. I’m a middle school science teacher, so I’m off for the summer. Since there was nothing holding me in town, I decided to get out while the getting was good.”

“So...what are your plans when you get to Florida?” Joni asked.

Brandon shook his head at his sister but did appear interested in Arden’s answer.

“I don’t really have plans,” Arden confessed. Suddenly, sitting alone in her parents’ home hiding from the world and licking her wounds lost its appeal. It actually sounded pretty pathetic. Was she so fragile that she needed weeks in seclusion because her boyfriend had turned out to be a jerk? Heck, no. Double heck, no. She was stronger than that.

“And now you’re stuck in Sweet Briar.” Brandon finished his meal and pushed his plate into the center of the table. She did the same. “John’s good. He’ll have you back on the road in no time.”

He stood and began clearing the table. Before she or Joni could move, he’d rinsed the plates and bowls and loaded them into the dishwasher. When that task was complete, he excused himself and left the kitchen.

Arden watched him leave, noting once again what a fine specimen of a man he was. He was the definition of masculinity. She might not be in the market for a man, but she wasn’t opposed to window-shopping. Realizing she was gawking at Brandon in front of his sister, she pulled her gaze away and reached for her coffee cup. She stifled her attraction before it could turn into interest or something more. She might not know much, but she knew better than to let her emotions get the upper hand on her common sense. No way. She wasn’t going to open herself up even for a minute and end up getting hurt again.

Thankfully, she wasn’t going to be around long enough to put that theory to the test. As soon as her car was fixed she was out of Sweet Briar.

Chapter Three

Arden woke to the sound of birds chirping and a dog barking in the distance. Stretching languidly, she smiled and opened her eyes. Momentarily startled by the unfamiliar surroundings, she jerked upright to a sitting position. A heartbeat later she remembered everything: her car breaking down, Brandon rescuing her and bringing her to his home.

Slipping from the bed, Arden crossed the room to the en suite. Not a morning person by nature, she felt unusually refreshed. She credited her vigor to the early hour she’d gone to bed and the fact that she’d slept like the proverbial baby.

She brushed her teeth, washed up and applied some lip gloss. After dressing in the clothes she’d washed last night, she tidied the bathroom and made her bed. When she stepped into the hallway she heard voices, so she knew Brandon and Joni were awake. Following the sound, Arden arrived at the kitchen.

“Good morning,” Joni said from her seat at the table. “Help yourself to some coffee.”

“Thanks.” Arden grabbed a mug from beside the coffeemaker, filled it, and added sugar and amaretto cream.

“Brandon and I were just talking about you.”

“Were you?”

“Yes,” Brandon replied.

Until he spoke, Arden had avoided looking at him. Now, though, she forced her gaze to where he leaned near the window. She’d thought he was to-die-for gorgeous yesterday, but it was nothing compared to the way he looked this morning. His jaw was scraped clean of all stubble and appeared baby-bottom smooth. She curled her hand into a fist to resist the urge to caress his face and find out. His dreadlocks were hanging loose around his shoulders. Dressed in a simple white T-shirt, his denim-clad legs crossed at the ankle, he looked perfectly relaxed.

Although her heart thumped wildly in her chest at the sight of him, she managed to speak normally. “Do I want to know what you were saying, or should I go back upstairs?”

He smiled. “We were discussing your situation.”

His smile momentarily stopped her brain from functioning. “What situation?”

“Your car.”

“Right.” She took a swallow of her coffee, hoping a jolt of caffeine would help her follow a simple conversation.

“I talked to John. He’ll tow it to his garage this morning and get to work on it as soon as he can. I didn’t know your cell phone number, so I told him to call me when he knows what the problem is and has an estimate. Does that work for you?”

She nodded. He’d handled everything with one phone call, saving her the hassle and the stress. She knew she should be grateful, and she was. If only he didn’t remind her of her brothers rushing in to save the day. “That works great. Thanks.”

“Sure.” He glanced at his watch, then pushed away from the wall. “I need to get to the restaurant. I’ll catch up with you two later.”

Arden managed to keep her eyes from following him as he left.

“How about breakfast?” Joni asked. From the twinkle in her eyes, she hadn’t missed Arden’s struggle to not watch Brandon leave.

“Breakfast sounds great. But you told me you’re not much of a cook and, to be honest, neither am I. The best cook just left the house.”

Joni laughed. “I didn’t mean here. Brandon would lose his mind if I touched his precious stove without his written permission and step-by-step instructions. There’s a great diner in town where everyone goes for breakfast. Even Brandon, and he doesn’t make a practice of eating other people’s cooking.”

“Okay. I’m in.”

Ten minutes later Arden and Joni entered Mabel’s Diner. The place looked exactly like Arden imagined a small-town diner should. Red vinyl booths lined the walls. Square tables with chrome chairs with red vinyl cushions filled the middle of the room. Framed pictures of movie stars hung on the walls at odd intervals. An old-fashioned jukebox played an ancient doo-wop song. It was positively charming.

Several people called hello to Joni, who returned their greetings. Every booth was filled, so Joni led the way to one of the tables. Arden grabbed a laminated menu from between an old-fashioned sugar bowl and the salt-and-pepper shakers. There was so much to choose from. Omelets, waffles, pancakes, bacon, sausage, even pork chops and fish.

After looking over the selections, she glanced up at Joni, whose menu remained untouched. “You already know what you want?” Arden didn’t know how she was going to decide what to eat. She loved food and considered eating her hobby. Fortunately, she had a high metabolism or she’d be the size of a sumo wrestler.

Joni nodded. “The special on Tuesday is excellent. Grits, breakfast potatoes, two sausage links, two strips of bacon, two pancakes and two eggs cooked any way you want as long as you want them fried.”

“All for two dollars?” Arden quipped.

Joni didn’t laugh or even smile. Instead, she placed her hand on Arden’s and gave a squeeze. “Don’t worry about the cost. Breakfast is on me.”

Arden had opened her mouth to correct Joni’s misconception about her finances when the waitress stepped up to their table, pad in hand and ready to take their orders.

“Hi, I’m Lynn and I’ll be your server. Are you ready?”

Joni nodded at the perky teenager. “I know what I want. What about you, Arden?”

“I think I’ll try the special.”

“Good choice,” Joni said. “Two specials.”

“Okay.” The waitress scribbled down their orders and promised to return right away with their orange juice.

“You don’t have to buy me breakfast. I have money.”

“And a broken-down car. My mother is a teacher and I know they don’t make much money. Especially new ones.”

“I know how this must look, but—”

“No buts. Just accept breakfast with the same good grace you accepted our hospitality last night. Simply smile and say thanks.”

Having someone offer to pay for anything was a new experience for Arden. Usually it was the other way around. People sat on their hands waiting for Arden to whip out her wallet and pay for their meals. And if someone did treat her, it was only because they wanted something in return. Joni didn’t know she was a Wexford, so she obviously didn’t have an ulterior motive. Joni was being nice because she was a nice person.

Still, she didn’t feel right leaving Joni with the wrong impression. It felt like lying by omission. And she hated liars. But Joni was adamant about buying breakfast and Arden didn’t want to insult her by refusing her offer. She’d let Joni buy her breakfast now and she’d treat Joni later.

Arden smiled. “Thanks. I really appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome,” Joni replied.

Their waitress returned with their food, setting the plates before them. Arden picked up her fork, breathing in the delicious aromas. As they ate, Joni told Arden about life in Sweet Briar. She mentioned little tidbits about the different residents, but none of it was mean-spirited or gossipy. From what Arden heard and saw, Sweet Briar was almost too good to be believed.

When 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 silverware on the tables in front of their family-owned pizza parlor.

“Ooh.”

“What?”

“Do you see that?” Arden’s reverent whisper made her sound like a kid looking at a pile of presents under the Christmas tree.

“See what?”

“The chocolate fountain in the window of Louanne’s Homemade Candy Shoppe. It was surrounded by strawberries and pretzels and a whole bunch of other goodies. I’m definitely going to visit that store before I leave.”

“You and every other woman in this town.” He glanced at the popular shop and drove another block.

Arden 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 way. Once a week is enough.” She had to draw a line somewhere.

There was another long silence, until Jax finally said, “Okay. But you’ll call if you need anything—”

This was becoming ridiculous. “Yeah. Sure. Bye.”

“Bye. We love you, Arden.”

She ended the call and returned her phone to her purse. All things considered, that had gone better than expected. She was finally making strides, no matter how small, in getting her brothers to see her as an adult.

Standing, Arden wheeled the suitcase behind her, curious to see more of the town in the light of day. She’d gone only one block when she came upon Brandon’s restaurant. A redbrick building with large windows and purple-and-yellow flowers in pots on either side of the gold-trimmed glass door, Heaven on Earth had a welcoming look. For a moment Arden hesitated, then tried the knob. It turned under her hand. She didn’t need to check in with Brandon, but she owed him the courtesy of keeping him abreast of the status of her car. After all, she was a guest in his home.

The dining area was empty, but she figured he must be around. Leaving her suitcase inside the main entrance, she walked through the maze of tables until she stood outside his office. Hearing his voice, she realized he was not alone and had turned to go when a woman’s voice stopped her.

“I hate to leave you shorthanded with the rehearsal dinner and reception coming up. I know how important they are to you, Brandon. But I have to go home. My great-aunt raised me and there’s nobody else to care for her after her stroke.”

“Of course you do. Family is important. Don’t worry about work. I’ll handle it.”

“But you’re already short two waitresses. You’ll really be in a mess.”

“We’ll be fine. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“No. I’m set. I didn’t have much to pack.”

Arden heard paper rustling. “Here’s your last check. I’ve also included a reference letter.”

“Thanks. I’ve been so worried, I didn’t even think of that.”

“I want you to know, if you decide to return to Sweet Briar, you’ll always have a job here.”

“I can’t even think that far ahead. I’ll never forget you. Would you please tell everyone bye for me and that I’ll be in touch when I can?”

“Absolutely. And if you need anything, just call.”

“Thanks.”

The young woman left the office and brushed past Arden, wiping tears as she hurried through the restaurant. Arden hesitantly knocked on Brandon’s open door. He was sitting at his desk filling out a form. Pen in hand, he looked up. When he saw her he smiled and leaned back in his chair. Her pulse began to race. What was it about this man that rang her chimes? If she wasn’t careful she’d forget she wasn’t interested in men anymore.

“I hope I’m not interrupting.”

He shook his head and waved her in. “Have a seat.”

“Thanks. I met with John. He’s not sure he’ll be able to get to my car today. I hate to impose on you and Joni another night, so maybe I should get a room at one of the hotels you mentioned.”

“That’s not necessary. You’re not an imposition. You’re welcome to stay as long as you need.”

“I appreciate that. I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation a minute ago.”

“With Nora?”

“The waitress?” At his nod she continued. “I know you have a couple of important jobs coming up. I’d love to help if I can.”

“You wouldn’t by any chance have experience as a waitress, would you?” He sounded as if he was half-joking.

“Actually, I do. I worked as a waitress in a four-star restaurant my last two years of college.” Although her family was wealthy, her parents wanted Arden and her brothers to know the value of work. They’d seen too many rich kids living off their trust funds, burning through money they hadn’t earned. A perfect waste of a strong back was how her father referred to them. Determined that his kids weren’t going to become spoiled and lazy, Winston Wexford insisted that his children have summer jobs while in high school. They’d also been required to work part-time while in college. He paid tuition, room and board, and other necessities. Arden and her brothers had paid for any extras they wanted.

Although they each had a sizable trust fund, her father controlled the funds until their thirtieth birthdays, when he expected them to have learned how to be contributing members of society. They received regular generous payments, but, like her brothers, Arden prided herself on making her own way.

“Really?”

She nodded. “Yes. So if you need help I’m willing.”

“I appreciate it. Joni usually fills in when I need a waitress, but she’s a member of the wedding party. How about you come in tonight and work a shift so you can get a feel for things? I’ll pay you, of course.”

“You don’t need to pay me. I am staying in your house after all.”

“Doesn’t matter. You’ll be paid. If you have a couple of minutes now, we can go over a few things to get you oriented.”

Arden followed Brandon out of the office, watching as he moved confidently through the kitchen. He showed her around the spotless room, his pride evident in his every word, before leading her to the dining room. Although she tried to focus, she was distracted by the play of his muscles under his shirt. His shoulders were broad, his chest well-sculpted, but it was his back that was most interesting to her. The muscles there were strong and flexed as he moved a chair out of the way.

When the tour was over, they returned to his office. He smiled and butterflies began fluttering in her stomach. He might not know it, but his grin was a lethal weapon.

“So, you still interested?”

“Absolutely.”

“Good. Let’s take care of the paperwork.”

“Paperwork?”

“Yes. I want to be able to pay you properly.”

She couldn’t fill out anything. He’d need a copy of her driver’s license. And then he’d know her last name. She hated to think that he would change once he knew who she was, but she’d seen it too many times to believe differently. Money changed people. But she still wanted to help him. Joni had told her this reception was a big opportunity for him, and she didn’t want him to look bad simply because he needed more waitresses. She blew out a breath and inspiration hit her. “Do you pay Joni?”

“No. She’s pretty hardheaded and won’t let me. She does keep her tips, though.”

“Then I’ll take the same deal Joni has. No salary and I’ll keep my tips.” She didn’t need the money, after all. And he did need the help.

“That’s ridiculous. You can’t work without pay.”

“Why not? You aren’t charging me rent. If you insist on paying me, I’ll have to pay rent. Either that or I’ll move out. Since the bed-and-breakfasts are full, and my car is in the shop and I have no way of getting to one of the hotels you mentioned, I’ll probably end up sleeping on a park bench.” She was playing dirty, but she wanted to help. She hadn’t been raised to be a taker. She needed to pull her own weight.

He opened his mouth and she knew he was going to continue to argue. She cut him off. “That’s the deal. Take it or leave it.”

He frowned with displeasure and ran a frustrated hand down his face. “I guess I’ll take it.”

Chapter Four

Brandon plated the seared sesame tuna, and expertly added the side dishes, dipping sauce and wasabi paste, thus finishing the order for table seven. He gestured to the waitress, who grabbed the tray and hustled into the dining area of the restaurant.

The crowd was unexpectedly large for a Tuesday night. He knew part of the reason was all the visitors in town for the wedding. Ordinarily he would be thrilled with the turnout, but tonight he was concerned because of his newest waitress. He didn’t want poor service to result in a less-than-spectacular dining experience for his guests, new and regular alike. Great food was only a portion of what Heaven on Earth offered.

True, Arden had experience, but every restaurant had a different way of operating. Although he’d given her a quick orientation, he didn’t expect her to remember everything the first night. It generally took at least a week before the waitstaff met his expectations. Of course he had no idea how long she intended to stay in Sweet Briar or if she was interested in working for him on a long-term basis. He’d just be grateful if she stayed through the reception and didn’t do any harm to his restaurant’s reputation in the process.

Brandon turned his attention back to work. The next hour flew as he prepared dinners quickly yet carefully, ensuring each one was cooked perfectly and attractively presented. Once things slowed down, he went into his office, stripped off his stained whites and put on a navy suit jacket. He removed his hairnet and adjusted the leather strap holding his dreadlocks in place.

He visited the dining room at least once each night. As owner, Brandon wanted his patrons to know he valued them and appreciated their business. More than that, he wanted their feedback. If there was a problem with the food or the service, he wanted them to tell him, not their Facebook friends or Yelp.

He stood at the entrance to the dining room for a moment soaking in the sight and the sounds of his restaurant. The pale gray walls and bluish gray floor-to-ceiling curtains provided the perfect backdrop to the snow-white tablecloths and napkins. The silver-and-crystal chandeliers gave off just the right amount of light to be flattering and cozy at the same time. The soft background music added ambience, but didn’t interfere with the quiet conversations his patrons were having.