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  He watched as she walked down the steps and across the paved driveway to her car. Evening had come while they were inside. A thick fog hung over the driveway. It was no longer raining, but the driveway glistened with water. The fog seemed to eat her until she was nothing but a silhouette. She turned back to wave, and then she slid into the driver’s seat. He returned the gesture. The car’s engine roared to life and the headlights came on, illuminating the mist. Did she know how to drive with her headlights on low in the fog? Probably. Most people knew that, didn’t they? He would tell her just in case. In his slippers, he crossed the driveway and called out to her just as the car began to inch forward. The window rolled down.

  “Did I forget something?” she asked.

  “No. I just wanted to make sure you knew to drive with your low beams on in this kind of fog.”

  She nodded, smiling. “Yes, I knew that. We have fog in Philly sometimes too. But thanks.”

  “Sure. I figured you knew. Anyway, off you go.” He tapped the top of her car and backed away. He stood in the driveway, the damp seeping into his clothes, until he could no longer see her taillights.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Kara

  Kara’s head hurt as she drove down the driveway toward the highway. The interview had left her bewildered and disoriented. Where was she? Who was she? Merging the truth and fiction into the story of Kara Eaton had left her exhausted.

  She pulled out onto the road. The fog was thick. She couldn’t see more than a few feet in front of her. Her fingers tightened around the steering wheel. Just go slowly. Stay within the lines. Brody had been wise to warn her.

  Brody Mullen. The moment she stepped into his house, her body came alive. More than once, she’d imagined what it would feel like to have his rough hands on her skin. The ups and downs of the conversation had scrambled her thinking until she hadn’t known if she should stay or go. She couldn’t decide if she wanted to punch him or kiss him. When she’d touched him just now, she swore she felt an electrical charge surge through her body. The men from her past seemed like boys compared to Brody Mullen.

  She must put aside her feelings. They were nothing but lust. She hadn’t been with anyone since her world had imploded. The past year had been too consuming to even think of dating, let alone sex.

  Focus on the work. She needed a job. She desired a better place to live. She didn’t have a lot of choices for work in a town this size. That said, was this a mistake? She could easily fall for Brody Mullen. It would be as easy as breathing. All she needed was to add to her heartbreak.

  Nothing could come of it, even if either of them wanted it to. She worked for him now. They could never cross that line. Even if she had been available, a man like Brody Mullen didn’t like women like her. He wasn’t the marrying kind, as Jessica would say. Not that it counted. If she read him right, he found her irritating. She’d come off haughty and opinionated. The latter was true, obviously, given her heated tangent about her qualifications. In her defense, his line of questioning had been inappropriate.

  The thick fog cut visibility to almost nothing. She set aside her worries and focused on driving. She gripped the steering wheel and drove slowly. When she finally reached her building, she sighed with relief. Her stomach growled as she trudged to her front door and into the apartment.

  Minnie, curled into a ball on the bed, lifted her head in greeting and yawned. Kara perched on the side of the bed and stroked her. “We have a new home, kitty. A temporary one anyway.” Minnie stretched and rested her head between her two white paws and purred in response.

  Kara spent the next hour packing up her few belongings into suitcases and calling the landlord to give official notice that she would not be extending her month-to-month lease. He was not exactly gracious, informing her that she would not be getting her deposit back since he would have to go to the trouble of finding a new tenant for the second time that month. She didn’t remind him that he could rent the place out for the rest of the month and collect double rent since she was paid up until the end of March. She let it go. All she cared about was getting out of this hell hole and into a place with central heating.

  She would head up to The Oar for dinner and thank Zane for sending her to Nora. Would he be surprised that she now worked for Brody Mullen? Probably.

  THE BAR WAS NEARLY empty when she arrived. She shrugged out of her coat and took the same seat at the counter as the previous night. Seconds later, Zane came out from the kitchen carrying a tray of glasses. “Kara, hey.” He set the tray beneath the counter. “You here for dinner?”

  She smiled at him. “I am.”

  Zane handed her a menu and asked if she wanted the same IPA as the night before, but she declined, asking for a glass of red wine instead.

  “You are now looking at a gainfully employed nurse,” she said.

  “No way? Already? That’s awesome.” Zane poured a glass of wine from an open bottle and set it in front of her. “I knew Nora would have something.”

  “She sent me out to a private residence for an interview this afternoon. And guess who answered the door? Brody Mullen.”

  “Wait? What?”

  “He needs someone to help with Flora and his mom.”

  “I didn’t know he was hiring someone,” he said.

  Men never told one another anything. It was weird.

  “I don’t know that he’s exactly thrilled to have hired me, but Flora liked me. I think anyway.”

  “So, he had no choice,” Zane said. “Flora has him wrapped around her finger.”

  She smiled as she took the first sip of her wine. “I picked up on that.”

  “Flora’s a softie under her rough exterior. His mom’s the coolest lady ever, even though she’s been a little down since Mr. Mullen died. And Brody—however he came across in the interview, just ignore it. He’s private and a little paranoid to let people into his inner circle. I can’t blame him, considering what happened with his last serious girlfriend.”

  “What happened?” She had to ask. The curiosity was too much.

  “She threatened to sell intimate pictures to the tabloids, along with stories of his extravagant spending and drug use.” His expression darkened. “Worst of all, she said she’d tell the world he’d beaten her, unless he gave her a bunch of money. She had photos of herself with a bruised face. Who knows who really beat her up, but it wasn’t Brody. He had no way of proving he didn’t do it, and you know how it is these days—once it’s in the press, it becomes truth even if it’s a pack of lies, which this was. Trust me, I’ve known the guy for over a decade. He would no sooner hurt a woman than shoot himself in the knees. As far as drug use, he lives on ibuprofen during the season, but try getting sacked a couple times a game and you would too.”

  “She just made everything up?” What kind of person does that?

  “A person who loves money, but doesn’t want to work for it. She was livid when he dumped her. She’d had her heart set on being the rich wife of a quarterback.”

  “Did he pay her?"

  “No. Honor talked him into going to the police, even though he was afraid the story had more of a chance of getting out there if he did. Fortunately, he was wrong. Samantha backed down once the police hauled her into the station. He agreed not to sue her for extortion if she agreed to sign a document that said he had nothing to do with her injuries or any of the other things she threatened him with.”

  “Like the intimate photos?”

  “Right.”

  “That's truly awful. It's hard to imagine the scrutiny he must be under."

  "And how vulnerable he is to bad people who want to exploit him," he said.

  "It's a whole different world, isn't it?"

  "Yes ma'am."

  No wonder Brody was paranoid. Anyone would be. She understood vulnerability and paranoia in an entirely different way than she had before she discovered her father's dirty little secret. She, too, was vulnerable. The second someone took her photograph and put it on social
media, she was dead. Had she put herself in deeper risk working for someone so famous? She vowed to be diligent and observant. No photographs. No interaction with his famous friends. Stay distant.

  “It’s been two years now, but she got under his skin. He doesn’t trust anyone but those of us he’s known forever.”

  “I can’t blame him. It’s hard when someone you love and trust turns out to be someone completely different than you thought. It makes you question every relationship.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Zane topped off her wine. “My fiancée dumped me a week before our wedding. She’d been cheating on me with the husband of one of her bridesmaids.”

  “That’s terrible. I’m sorry.”

  He shrugged as he set a fresh coaster under her wine glass. “I’m over it now. It’s been three years.”

  She didn’t believe that for a second. This sweet guy was jaded. Brody Mullen wasn’t the only one with trust issues.

  “But yeah,” Zane said. “When I learned the truth, I realized I didn’t know her at all. Everything I thought was true—poof—gone.”

  Zane left to take care of another customer. She looked down at her menu. The salad listings were extensive, but one caught her attention.

  The Brody: mixed greens, grilled vegetables, and chicken topped with a half an avocado.

  It sounded delicious, even if she’d had quite enough of Brody Mullen for one day.

  “I’ll have The Brody,” she said to Zane when he reappeared behind the counter. “In celebration of my new employer.”

  “Good choice. It’s my most popular salad.”

  “Is it the name or the salad?” she asked.

  “Definitely the salad.” Zane flashed her a smile before he walked back to the kitchen.

  Someone slid into the seat beside her and spoke softly into her ear. “Definitely the name.”

  Long, male legs in jeans settled onto the stool. She knew those legs. She knew that voice. When she looked up, Brody Mullen, with a baseball cap perched low on his forehead, grinned at her. Flutters in her stomach betrayed her previous vow to remain detached.

  “Hey Kara.”

  “Hi Brody.”

  “After you left, I convinced Flora to let me pick up takeout tonight. So here I am.” He wore a pair of loose jeans and a knit sweater. She ached to touch the dimple in the middle of his chin.

  “You were right to warn me about the fog. I white-knuckled it all the way home,” Kara said.

  “I’m glad you got home all right.”

  “I’ve driven in much worse.”

  “I drove by your place just now to make sure your car was there,” he said.

  “You did?”

  “You work for me now. I feel responsible.” He made a teepee with two coasters.

  Responsible? That made her sound like the pet no one really wanted. “You don’t need to feel responsible for me. I’m quite fine on my own.”

  “I’m sure you are.” He tapped his teepee. The coasters fell, one on top of the other. “It’s lifted now. You’ll get used to the fickle nature of the fog after you’ve been here a while.”

  They sat in silence for a moment. She sipped her wine and pretended to be interested in the beer signs hanging above the bar, keenly aware of the muscular man beside her. He smelled spicy and clean, like he’d just shaved.

  “Second dinner in a row at The Oar,” he said. “You’re acting like a local already.”

  “I came by to thank Zane for suggesting Nora,” she said. “But the tacos last night did leave an impression. As did the owner.”

  “Just fair warning, he’s not really available.”

  “What?” Did he think she was interested in Zane? “Oh, I know. He’s not ready. Believe it or not, it’s possible to have an actual friendship with the opposite sex.”

  “It’s rare, but sure,” he said. “For the most part, women can be friends with men, but not the other way around. If a man’s nice to you, it usually means he’s trying to get you into bed.”

  “Maybe. Even though I hate to think that way,” she said.

  “But not Zane. He’s one of the good guys.”

  She loosened her grip on the stem of her wine glass before it snapped in two. “Zane’s been nothing but kind since I met him, but a woman can tell if a man’s interested in her that way, and he’s not.”

  “It’s nothing to do with you,” he said. “He was hurt badly.”

  “He told me.” The wine had made her warm. Damp from perspiration, her sweater clung to the small of her back.

  “Really?”

  “Yes, but I knew even before he told me about his fiancée. He has that guarded look people get when they’ve been sucker punched.”

  “You have that too,” he said.

  “Do I?” She knew the answer was yes, but hearing it said out loud dismayed her. When she raised her glass to her mouth, her hands shook.

  “Maybe those of us who’ve been sucker punched have a special radar afterward.” His voice softened. “I can spot a fellow survivor a mile away.”

  “I think you’re onto something.”

  “You need any help moving in tomorrow?” he asked.

  “No, thank you. I’m already packed. I don’t have much.”

  His eyebrows raised. He wanted to ask her why. She could see him physically restraining himself from asking. That small act of thoughtfulness softened her.

  “I can’t wait to move, and it’s only been two days,” she said. “I’ve been trying to be brave, but it’s so cold and damp.”

  “I’m glad we’re getting you out of that place,” he said.

  “Last night I heard rats crawling around in the walls,” she said.

  “Old Man Cooper should get a cat.”

  A cat. Great. She hadn’t told him about Minnie. All he needed was an excuse to rescind his offer. “I forgot to mention something this afternoon.”

  He smiled. “Are you going to tell me one of your secrets?”

  “It’s not a secret. It’s a cat. I have a cat. Minnie. She’s a tuxedo and small. Actually, she’s kind of chubby, but small just the same, and hardly any trouble. Mostly she sleeps all day. Is it okay if I bring her? She’s all I have left from home.” Tears pricked her eyelids. Keep it together.

  “I hate cats,” he said.

  “You do?” His answer shocked away her tears.

  He grinned. “No, I’m just kidding. Of course, you can bring her.”

  Zane came out of the kitchen, this time carrying a stack of napkins. “Brody, I didn’t know you were coming in.”

  “I had to come into town for Mom’s meds, and Flora agreed to let me pick up dinner from here. Only because it’s your restaurant. She’s under the impression that the place is about to go under.”

  “She is?” Zane asked. “That’s odd.”

  “You know how she is—thinks she knows everything.” Brody’s eyes slid over to Kara. “Just wait until you get the kitchen instructions. You have to promise me you won’t quit.”

  “Is it that bad?” she asked.

  “I’m afraid so,” Brody said before ordering three salads from Zane.

  “You want a beer while you wait?” Zane asked.

  “I really shouldn’t, but I don’t want the lady to have to drink alone.”

  After Zane left for the kitchen, Kara stared into her glass and tugged on her left hoop earring.

  “I wanted to clear something up between us,” he said. “I’m glad you said yes to the job. Flora feels so much better knowing that you’re only there temporarily. I suspect you feel like I was against hiring you, and I wanted to assure you that I realize how lucky we are to have you.”

  She nodded and shrugged. “It’s no problem. I think we shared ambivalence over whether it was a good fit. But, like Flora kept reminding me, it’s only temporary. And don’t worry about anything. I’m quite sure I can fill in for Flora without leaning on you, given my time in emergency rooms. You won’t even know I’m there.”

  “I’ll know.
”

  Her stomach dropped. “You will?”

  “You’re a hard woman to ignore,” he said.

  “Oh. Well, okay.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Brody

  The next morning, Brody was answering an email in his office when he heard Honor sniffling.

  Alarmed, he looked over at her. “What’s wrong?”

  Curled up in the camel chair, she wiped under her eyes. “Nothing.”

  He was used to women crying in this house. All he had to do was turn on the Hallmark Channel and Flora started in with the waterworks. However, Honor rarely cried. This had been a week of tears. First his mother and now Honor. He wasn’t sure what to do.

  “Tell me.” He walked around the front of his desk.

  “I-I have men problems.”

  “What?” She was the problem, not men.

  “I made a mistake last night, and now I don’t know what to do.”

  “What kind of mistake?”

  “I slept with someone I have feelings for.”

  “And that’s a problem?” he asked.

  “You know it is.”

  “Has it ever occurred to you that having someone special in your life is a good thing?”

  “What are you talking about? You’re worse than me.” She glowered at him. “Such a hypocrite.”

  “Slow down there, tiger. This isn’t a competition about who’s more screwed up when it comes to relationships.”

  She leapt from her chair and circled around the desk to where he stood and grabbed him in a fierce hug. “Thanks for everything you’ve done for me.”

  He held her tightly, surprised. Honor wasn’t the hugging type. For all her bluster, he suspected she still felt like the girl no one wanted. “Where’s this coming from?”

  “I don’t know. It’s just this guy has me totally off-kilter.”