The Waitress's Secret

“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.