The Waitress's Secret

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.”