Nashville Secrets. Sheri WhiteFeather

gestured to a nearby picnic bench. “Shall we?”

      She nodded and warned herself to get a grip. Fixating on his mouth wasn’t part of today’s game plan.

      They sat across from each other, and she was grateful for the tabletop between them. Although Brandon dropped Cline’s leash, the loyal husky didn’t leave his master’s side.

      Mary set everything up, making it look as pretty as possible. Presentation was part of her job. She poured the coffee and gave him his. “Cream or sugar?”

      “Two creams.” He held up two fingers.

      She handed him the little packets, along with a stir stick. “I do sugar.” She sweetened her coffee while he lightened his. “These are Cline’s, obviously.” She slid a Baggie of the bone-shaped biscuits across the table. “If you want to give him one.”

      “You can do the honors.” He moved them back over to her. “Just call him around to your side and ask him to ‘sit up.’ That will get him begging for you.”

      She followed Brandon’s instructions, and in no time, Cline was sitting up with his nose twitching. She dropped a biscuit, and he caught it. The husky reclined next to her to gobble it up. She returned her attention to his master. “I think I just made a friend for life.”

      “Can’t say as I blame him.” Brandon looked at her as if she was as tempting as the pastries she’d brought. “Which of these should I try first?”

      “That’s up to you.” As a flame ignited in her belly, she sipped her coffee and wondered if she should have brought iced water instead. At least she could have cooled herself off with it.

      He reached for a chocolate-and-cinnamon scone. It was gooiest of the three, with its thick, creamy icing. She watched as he took a big masculine bite.

      He swallowed and said, “Damn, this is good.”

      “Thank you. I’m glad you like it.” She noticed that there was graffiti on his side of the table: an old-fashioned heart with initials inside it. There were dirty words scratched onto the surface, too. Nothing was ever as innocent as it seemed, not even Mary. If Brandon knew what she up to, he would be throwing the pastries back in her face.

      “Are you going to join me?” he asked.

      Anxious to clear her thoughts, she put a raspberry muffin on a paper plate. “I’ll have this. But you can take home whatever we don’t eat.” She’d packed enough for seconds and thirds.

      “I’d be happy to.” He drank his coffee. “When I was a kid, I had a nanny named Fleur, and she used to sneak me extra cookies. She said it was because I was always so well-behaved and she thought I should be rewarded for it.”

      “Did she help raise you?” Mary couldn’t have imagined someone aside from her mother kissing her forehead, or giving her cookies or tucking her in at night.

      He shook his head. “She wasn’t around for very long. I had lots of nannies. But she’s the most memorable to me. I was about seven or eight then. I think she left to go back to the Netherlands. I had the craziest crush on her.” He smiled. “My first crush and it was all because of those cookies.”

      She tried to picture him as a child. But all she saw was the polished man sitting across from her. “Were they chocolate chip?”

      “I don’t remember, but they probably were.” He toasted her with his next bite. The scone he was eating had chocolate chips in it. “So who was yours?”

      She picked at her muffin, breaking off crusty little pieces. “My what?”

      “First crush.”

      “Oh, right.” She had an unwelcome crush on him. That was for darn sure. She could barely focus on her answer. But she searched her memories and said, “In middle school. An older boy named Kasey. But he never liked me back.”

      Brandon stared across the table at her. “He would probably like you now.”

      Her pulse dipped and dived. “I got over him a long time ago.”

      His stare got deeper, more intense. “I kept thinking about you all week. I couldn’t get you off my mind.”

      She tried to keep things light, to fight the sexual feelings he incited. “About me being a new Nashville resident?”

      “About everything, I guess. I’d really like to take you out, Mary.”

      Oh wow. He’d just asked her on a real live date. Things were moving faster than she expected. But she couldn’t turn him down, not if she wanted to get to know him better.

      “Where would we go?” she managed to ask.

      He smiled. “Someplace nice.”

      For the nice girl she was supposed to be? The thought made her breath rush out. “I’m not used to fancy places.”

      “It doesn’t have to be fancy. We can do cozy.” He paused and added, “With a good-night kiss.”

      She panicked. “What if I decide that we shouldn’t kiss on the first date?”

      “Then I’ll be forced to wait until the next time I see you.” He finished his scone, swallowing the last glazed bite. “But I hope that doesn’t happen. What man in his right mind wouldn’t want to kiss you?”

      He wasn’t just any man, she thought. He was the attorney who’d filed a restraining order against her mother. “You’re making my head spin.”

      He frowned. “Why do I make you so uncomfortable? What am I doing wrong?”

      “Nothing.” He’d already done it years ago. “I just haven’t been on a date in a while.”

      “That’s okay. I’ll bring you up to speed. Do you like Chinese food? I can get us a private booth at the Crystal Buddha.”

      “That sounds good.” She toyed with her napkin. “I’ve never been there, but I’ve heard rave reviews about it.”

      “How about Thursday night?”

      “That’s fine. I’ll give you my number and you can text me when you make the reservation. Maybe you should give me your number now, too.”

      After they completed the exchange, he glanced past her and said, “I guess we’re boring my dog.”

      She followed his line of sight. Cline was sprawled out on the grass, fast asleep. “Maybe he needs his own date.”

      “I think he’s content just the way he is.”

      She nodded. The husky didn’t seem to have a care in the world. In the next quiet instant, she asked, “Would you be okay with me buying your dad’s biography? I’m getting curious to read it.”

      He angled his head. “Really? Why?”

      “To learn more about your family and how you fit in with them.” And because she could discuss the book with him and get his reactions. “It might make for an interesting conversation when we go out.”

      “Sure, we can talk about it over dinner. It would probably be better if you knew my background, anyway, with how public it is. But you’d better read fast because it’s four hundred pages.”

      “I’ll do my best.” She couldn’t tell him that she’d already read it several times.

      “Too bad there isn’t a book about your family and how you fit in with them. I’m going to have to learn about you the normal way.”

      Mary merely nodded. Normal didn’t exist in this farce of a situation. But she had to protect herself. Her and Alice and Mama. “I’m just a regular person from a regular family.”

      “We’re going to make a strange pair. You and me.”

      “The strangest,”