The Waitress's Secret

by Kathy Douglass

  He rose and shifted the pile of papers and books from a chair to the floor in order to give his hands something to do.

  “I should leave so you can get back to what you were doing.”

  Arden swung her legs around slowly as if trying to avoid bumping her ankle into anything. Brandon knew the sensible thing—the right thing—was to offer her his arm and help her walk out of his house. So naturally he bent and scooped her into his arms.

  He expected her to make at least a token protest, but she didn’t. Instead, she wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned her head against his shoulder. The warmth from her soft body heated him and he was instantly aroused. Her sweet scent was too delicate to have come from a bottle of perfume. It could have been her shampoo or lotion or any number of things, but he knew it was just Arden. That unique scent that turned him on so much could never be duplicated.

  He carried her through the kitchen, down his back stairs, across the lawn and up the stairs to her garage apartment, wishing the distance was farther. She felt so right in his arms. With every step he tried to extinguish his growing desire. It wasn’t just physical. That he could handle. What worried him was the part of him that wanted more from Arden. The part that forgot the agony of being burned by a woman’s lies. Of being shot and nearly killed because of her deceit. The part that wanted a future.

  The rational part of him reasserted itself and he mentally withdrew to a safe distance. He would never make himself vulnerable again. Even with Arden.

  * * *

  Arden stretched, straightened her legs, then immediately winced and sucked in her breath as pain shot through her ankle. Most of the swelling had gone down, but an ache remained.

  After Brandon had settled her on the couch, she’d insisted that she would be fine once she’d taken a pain pill. Her ankle was hurting so badly she’d ignored the fact that she was a real lightweight when it came to any type of medicine. One little pill was all it took to knock her out for the afternoon.

  She looked at the clock and jerked upright. It was nearly six thirty. After limping to the bathroom she hopped to the kitchen, using the wall and any pieces of furniture she could get her hands on for balance. Although small, the kitchen had all the modern conveniences she needed. Too bad she didn’t have food.

  She’d been on her way to buy groceries when Brandon had interrupted her. The two bowls of bouillabaisse she’d eaten were a distant memory. Her stomach growled and she grabbed the telephone and the takeout menus she had acquired, deciding on Italian. Pizza Palace made great pizza, with plenty of melted cheese. Best of all, they delivered.

  She was about to call in her order when there was a knock on her door.

  “Coming,” she called, hobbling to the door.

  “Take your time.”

  At Brandon’s voice she stumbled and grabbed on to the arm of the couch. Great. She nearly injured her other ankle. She reached the door without further incident and quickly undid the locks he’d insisted she set after he left.

  He looked far too tempting holding a tray filled with several covered dishes. Dressed in the relaxed jeans he favored and a plain white T-shirt, he gave her an easy grin that had her wobbling.

  “I knew you wouldn’t be able to cook with that ankle, so I whipped up a little something for you.”

  “You didn’t have to do that. I could have ordered pizza.”

  He shuddered and headed for the kitchen. “Pizza? When you’re injured, you need comfort food. It helps with the healing process and lifts the spirits. Sit. I’ll be right back.”

  She ignored his command and slowly followed him to the kitchen, careful to keep weight off her foot. “I’m practically healed. My ankle isn’t as swollen anymore.”

  “You don’t follow orders very well.”

  “Not anymore.” Once she’d been the proverbial good girl, doing what her parents said. She’d trusted in their love and wisdom and followed where they led. She’d consulted them when selecting a college, relying on their input. She knew they had her best interests at heart. But for all their good intentions, they’d ended up crippling her. She’d always had them to lean on so she hadn’t developed the skills necessary to recognize the wolves disguising themselves as sheep among her so-called friends.

  “That can be good under certain circumstances. In others, not so much.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll follow orders while I’m on the clock. But since we’re in my apartment, it’s okay to ignore you.”

  He laughed and pulled a stool from the breakfast bar and helped her climb on. Her skin tingled from his simple touch, something she wouldn’t mind experiencing over and over again. She forced herself to ignore the sensations and make conversation. “So what did you bring?”

  “Exactly what you need to ease the pain. Macaroni and cheese, my famous fried pork chops, mixed greens and, for dessert, chocolate cake.”

  “Will you stay and eat with me?”

  He hesitated for a minute, then nodded. “I think I have enough for two.”

  “It looks like you have enough for four.”

  He set a plate in front of her, then sat down beside her. The heat from his body warmed the cold places in her heart and she yearned to move closer.

  He watched her, waiting for her to eat before he did. She dipped her fork into the cheesy pasta. She closed her eyes and moaned in appreciation. “This is wonderful.”

  He smiled, his perfect white teeth gleaming in his brown face. The skin beside his eyes crinkled and, incredibly, he looked even more handsome than before, something she didn’t believe possible. “Thanks. It’s my grandfather’s recipe.”

  She took another satisfying bite. “You should serve this in the restaurant. It would be a big hit.”

  “So I’ve been told. But it doesn’t fit with the rest of the menu. I only make this for my friends.”

  Her heart leaped. He did consider her a friend. For a minute she’d worried that he’d brought the meal out of some misplaced sense of guilt. He’d told her they were friends, but part of her was unsure he’d meant it. She’d been used so often she’d lost her ability to trust. But, then again, Brandon had no reason to lie. He had no clue who she was, so he couldn’t have an ulterior motive. At least not one that involved money. If he was after her body...well, she was after his, too.

  “What’s so funny?”

  She didn’t realize she’d laughed out loud. “I was just thinking.”

  “Care to share the joke?”

  Not for my weight in chocolate-covered strawberries. “No joke. Your food is just as powerful as your grandfather’s. Both of you bring joy. And since I can’t sing I just laughed.” That didn’t make sense to her, but fortunately he didn’t act like he thought the comment was nuts.

  “The power of good food. I guarantee pizza would not have had the same result.”

  They ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes, enjoying the food. Finally Brandon looked at her. “Tell me about yourself.”

  “What do you want to know?”

  He swallowed a forkful of greens before answering. “Whatever you want to share. Tell me your goals. Your dreams. Tell me about your childhood or about your family. Anything.”

  “Wow. There’s not that much to tell. At least nothing interesting,” she said, setting her fork on the edge of her plate while pondering his request. He already knew the basics of her breakup. She didn’t feel the need to tell him about catching Michael-the-toad hiding cameras in his bedroom so he could make a sex video that would be his “ride to easy street.” A revelation like that was definitely not in the getting-to-know-you category Brandon had in mind.

  “I’m the youngest of three kids. I’m the only girl.”

  “How much younger?”

  “I’m twenty-three. My brothers are thirty and thirty-two.”

  �
�Are you close?”

  “Yes and no. They love me and I love them, but we don’t hang out together. Well, they hang out but I’m generally not included.” She would have loved to attend baseball games and other sporting events with them. If only they would invite her. “Our relationship is slightly better than when I was a teenager. Then they bossed me around so much it was like having two extra dads. Now they aren’t as bad although they could step back some and let me live my life.”

  “They’re protecting you.”

  “Spoken like a big brother.”

  “It’s part of the unwritten code.”

  Arden just laughed. Somehow she knew he would see it that way.

  “I can’t believe they let you stay here on your own.”

  She punched his arm. She’d seen him in short sleeves on numerous occasions, but she was still surprised by how rock hard his muscles were. “They didn’t let me do anything.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “How often do you have to call them?”

  How did he know? “Every Sunday.”

  “That sounds about right. Still, I would expect them to pop up just to assure themselves that you’re okay.”

  Jax and Blake in Sweet Briar? That thought chilled her to the bone. The last thing she needed was for her brothers to show up in town. As the face of the corporation, Blake was easily recognizable. Although Jax was less visible as general counsel, he was regularly named by magazines as one of the country’s most eligible bachelors. One mention that she was their sister and her vacation from real life would be over.

  “Let’s just change the subject.”

  “Sure.” He topped off her lemonade. “Tell me about your dreams for the future. My grandfather always used to talk about a five-year plan. Do you have one?”

  “I’m a middle school science teacher. Last year was my first year teaching.”

  “How’d it go?”

  “Well, the kids were great.”

  “That’s always good. I hear a but in there, though.”

  “I made the mistake of getting involved with the principal. Now I’m not sure about returning to that school in the fall. I’ve got some feelers out, but it might be too late to change schools next year. I might have to tough it out, which is not a pleasant thought.”

  “Is he the jerk you just broke up with?”

  She nodded, her face growing hot with embarrassment. She couldn’t believe she had been so stupid as to become involved with her boss. How clichéd.

  “Do you think he’ll harass you or make your life miserable? Will he make it hard for you to do your job?” Brandon’s eyes were flinty as all warmth had vanished from his voice.

  “No.” Of that she was certain. If he tried, her brothers would grind him into dust. Even a worm like him was bright enough to know that. People might go out of their way to become friends with the Wexfords, but no one made the extra effort to become an enemy. At least not without some sort of leverage, and Michael had none. Thank goodness she’d discovered his plot before he’d had a chance to act on it.

  “If he does, that would be illegal. I have a lawyer who handles restaurant business. I can contact him and see if he can refer anyone to you if you need legal assistance. It might be good to talk to someone so you can be prepared.”

  Arden was touched but not surprised by Brandon’s offer. He was a protector by nature. Despite his claim to the contrary, he was a hero.

  She put her hand atop his. A tingle danced up her fingertips and down her spine, hitting every place in between. “You know, you really are a nice guy.”

  “Thanks. I think.”

  “Why don’t guys like being thought of as nice?”

  “It’s the way we’re wired.”

  “It’s insane.”

  “You’re probably right.” He shrugged and looked at his watch. “I had better get going.” He began clearing the remains of dinner. “I’ll leave the leftovers in case you get hungry later.”

  “Thanks.” She was so full she couldn’t imagine eating again, but a woman never knew when chocolate cake would call her name. She started to rise to help him, but he stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.

  “You stay sitting. I’ll have this clean in no time.”

  She knew that was true. She’d seen him clean and sanitize the much-larger kitchen at the restaurant. He had a system and worked steadily yet quickly. Sure enough, he had her kitchen in order in less time than it would take her to stack the dishwasher.

  “Do you need anything before I go?” he asked as he walked to the front door. She hopped along beside him, using his arm for balance. A bunch of naughty images flitted through her mind, but she tamped them down. After he made it plain he would not kiss her again, she didn’t think necking on the couch was what he meant.

  “No. I’ll probably just read for a while and then go to bed.”

  He nodded but didn’t say anything more. He didn’t move to open the door, and she got the feeling he wasn’t any more anxious to leave than she was for him to go. The awareness that had been simmering just below the surface bubbled and boiled over. His clean masculine scent swirled around her, bringing with it memories of how good it had felt to be kissed by him.

  She met his eyes and the desire in his gaze ignited a fire in her that had her skin yearning for his touch. She swayed toward him and he placed his hand on her shoulder, stilling her before she could get closer.

  He heaved out a breath. “This is such a bad idea.”

  “Is it?”

  He groaned. “Help me out, Arden.”

  “I can’t,” she whispered. “I don’t have the strength.”

  “Hell,” he muttered, pulling her close to him. He hesitated half a second as if giving her a chance to change her mind, and then lowered his mouth and kissed her. The kiss in the den had been gentle and tentative. This kiss was hot and demanding, shooting fierce need through every part of her body.

  She tried to step closer to him, but he held her at a distance, not letting her get too close. Then he wrenched his mouth away from hers. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

  “Why? And please don’t say because I work for you occasionally.” Her voice sounded breathless in her ears. Although how she heard it over the thundering of the blood racing through her veins was a mystery.

  “Okay. I won’t, but that won’t change the fact that you do.” With a finger to her lips, he once more stifled any protest she might have had. When he realized what he had done, he quickly removed his finger and shoved his hands into his pockets.

  “That’s not the only reason we need to keep things from getting out of control. You’re coming off a bad breakup. You’re vulnerable. And I’m not looking to get involved. Not now. Maybe not ever. And you may be hurt now, but I can’t picture you turning your back on love forever. Let’s face it, you want kids and a house. The whole nine yards. Maybe not now, but one day. I don’t. There’s no use starting something when we want different things.”

  She hated to admit it, but he was right. There was no future for them. And there never could be as long as she was keeping her identity a secret. But since he didn’t want her long term, there was no reason for her to reveal who she was and ruin the paradise she’d found in Sweet Briar.

  Chapter Eight

  Arden awoke the next morning, bright and early. In fact, it was so early the sun had only begun to make its appearance. There was something to be said for taking an insanely long nap and then going to bed early. She had planned to read, but nothing seemed to hold her attention. After attempting to become interested in three different books, she realized she was too unsettled to focus. If she could have, she would have gone for a run. But her ankle still pained her, so she’d stayed in, taken a long bubble bath and then called Blake.

  He’d been surprised to hear from her and the
y’d had a good conversation. Until she’d asked for money for the youth center. Then he had immediately begun to interrogate her. Where was she? How long had she been there? How could she trust these people so easily? Didn’t she know people would always mention their need for money when the Wexfords were around? Hadn’t she learned anything from her experiences?

  She’d tried to explain that she had learned. To his credit he’d listened, something that surprised the heck out of her. But then he had always been more levelheaded than Jax, which was why she’d called him. In the end Blake had agreed to keep an open mind about the Wexford Foundation making a sizable donation and he hadn’t criticized her desire to make a personal one. She promised to get more information for him, which the foundation would need to make such a donation, although she had no idea how she would do that without arousing suspicion.

  After that, they chatted for a few more minutes before ending the call. Perhaps it was the remnants of painkillers floating through her bloodstream, or maybe it was the good feelings from having a decent conversation with her brother, but, whatever the reason, she had slept long and deep.

  Now she pointed her toes, testing her ankle. No pain. She turned her ankles in circles and didn’t experience even the slightest twinge. The swelling had gone down. Standing, she walked across the room, first gingerly then with more confidence. A sigh escaped her lips. She was fine. Good, because she was hungry and the cupboard was bare. Although the diner wasn’t open yet, it would be soon.

  She skipped down the stairs and noticed Brandon coming across the driveway. She waved and smiled. After a hesitation so slight she wondered if she had imagined it, he lifted his hand in return.

  “You’re up early,” she said when he was within hearing distance.