“You don’t think you’re a star?”
“I’m a healer, not a star. She’s the star.”
Toni delivered his water, with a loaded glance in Bethany’s direction. He got the message. No more alcohol for the doctor in the red dress.
“Why can’t you be both?” He stirred the ice cubes in his water, watching them catch sparkles of light from the lanterns.
“Because that’s not me,” Bethany said firmly. “I’m just a nerd.”
“A nerd in a red dress hot enough to melt a glacier.”
She jabbed her finger in the air as if he’d proved her point. “It’s my sister’s dress, not mine.”
“But you’re wearing the hell out of it. Why do you want to sell yourself short? Don’t you think you look sexy?”
She waved her hand at the crowd on the other side of the bar. “She’s the sexy one. Just look at all the men over there. I couldn’t get them to pay attention to me if I…I don’t know, danced on the bar.”
He let out a snort of laughter. He’d love to see that—Bethany Morrison dancing on the bar of the Olde Salt. “Pretty sure you got that wrong, but let’s keep it hypothetical. The ceilings here are low.”
Someone called his name from one of the booths, and he swung around on the stool to wave “hello” to Old Crow, one of the fishermen for whom the Olde Salt was essentially a second home. “How’s that elbow?” he called to the older man, who suffered from tendinitis from his many years of pulling up crab traps.
But Old Crow didn’t answer. His gaze slid to the side and his jaw dropped open.
Nate spun the stool back around and—oh shit.
Bethany was climbing onto the bar.
She’d already hoisted one hip onto the scuffed wooden bar top with its ancient varnish—probably getting sticky gunk on her red dress.
Even so, it was a sexy power move. Her red dress glowed in the lamplight and her hair shone like gold satin. Faces turned toward her, even the group surrounding Gretel. He caught a glimpse of Gretel’s alarmed face, and her attempt to push her way through the crowd.
Bethany turned sideways to get both knees onto the bar, then pushed herself up. But she misjudged the tightness of her dress, or the height of the bar, or something. As she kneeled on the edge of the bar, she lost her balance and lurched backwards, windmilling her arms in the air.
She grabbed onto one of the hanging ship’s lanterns to stop her fall, but all that did was make a clang that drew the entire bar’s attention. If anyone hadn’t been watching before, they were now.
Nothing she did to stabilize herself worked. With a loud squeak, she toppled backwards.
Nate positioned himself right under her and braced for impact. He staggered as she dropped into his arms, both her knees hooked over one of his arms, her back snug against the other. The pressure on his still-healing wound made him wince, but he didn’t mind. She filled his arms with warmth and a sweet, wistful fragrance like the last wild roses of summer.
“Hello,” he told her as he stepped away from the bar. He wanted to remove all temptation. “Does the word hypothetical mean nothing to you?”
“Did I really just fall off a bar?” she whispered. An embarrassed flush stole across her face.
“No worries, this is the Olde Salt. A lot worse has happened here. I can tell you some stories, but maybe I’ll wait until you have half a chance of remembering them.”
A flash of turquoise hair registered next to him, and suddenly Gretel was there. “Oh my God! That was crazy, Bethany! Are you okay?”
“I think so?” Bethany blinked at her sister. Sweet Lord, she was adorable. “You can probably put me down now, Nate.”
He glanced at Gretel, eyebrows raised in a question. Was it actually safe to put her down?
“It’s okay, I got it from here,” she told him. “I’ll drive her home.”
That didn’t sound like a good idea either. “Need a chauffeur? I just got here and I haven’t had anything to drink yet.”
Something sparked in her eyes. Speculation? Flirtatiousness? “Are you a friend of Bethany’s? What’s your name?”
“Nate Prudhoe. I’m a firefighter, EMT, and survivor of many nights at the Olde Salt. If you need references, you can ask anyone here.” He waved at the surrounding faces. Yup, everyone was still watching them. Poor Bethany, she was going to be furious with herself in the morning.
“Are we really friends?” Bethany was asking him drunkenly. “That’s so sweet. You’re so sweet.”
“See?” he told Gretel. “I’m sweet. Also, I recently suffered a stab wound so I’m not exactly comfortable right now. Let’s get going.”
“Okay, but just so you know, I might look innocent but I took Krav Maga lessons from a former Israeli commando on a beach in Thailand.”
“Innocent” was not the word he would have used. “Noted. Your rig or mine?”
“We’ll take Bethany’s, then I can drive you back here after she’s in bed.”
Spluttering, Bethany wriggled in his arms. “You guys are talking about me like I’m a baby. I’m the older sister.”
“Oh, stop your whining,” Nate told her with a wink. She giggled in response, making Gretel’s eyebrows quirk in surprise.
“You just made my sister giggle. I’m usually the only one who can do that.”
Since his wound was throbbing by now, Nate strode toward the front door and pushed it open with his foot. Gretel went back for Bethany’s purse, then joined them outside.
Starlight filled the empty boardwalk. It was one of those achingly clear and moonless nights in which the stars seemed especially close to Earth. Diamonds against a field of black infinity. Nate sniffed the air almost like a wolf, searching for the scent of snowfall on the horizon.
The faint scent of rose petals caught his attention instead. Bethany. He felt the fall of her silky hair across his hand, and the backs of her knees warm against his arm. She tilted her head back so she could look up at the sky and said, “Wow.”
He could have said the same thing himself, but he would have been referring to something else—the soft shine of her eyes, her kissable lips, the current of awareness running through his body. Wow.
Chapter Ten
Wrapped in her bathrobe, her favorite bunny slippers keeping her feet cozy, Bethany stared blankly at her coffeemaker. How did the thing work again? There was water involved, and button-pushing. A loud noise. Right, a loud noise. Maybe this wasn’t the right moment for a loud noise.
She looked at the numbers blinking on the digital clock readout. Apparently she’d spent most of the day in bed. Good thing she had today off. She often spent her off days catching up on sleep, so that was nothing unusual.
“Nate wants to come over and check on you, is that okay?” Gretel propped herself against the doorframe, one leg bent in a triangle, foot resting on the opposite knee. The iridescent purple of her leggings made Bethany’s eyeballs hurt.
Did she want to see Nate? Last night was a blur, but she knew he’d rescued her from complete humiliation. He’d been very kind and hadn’t laughed at her for falling off the bar. He’d simply driven her and Gretel home. Then, insisting that Gretel should stay with Bethany, he’d called a friend to pick him up.
Nate was the kind of guy who had plenty of friends who would pick him up in the middle of the night.
“Sure,” she finally said. “He can come over. Might as well get all the teasing over with.”
“Cool. Nate’s a hottie. Is he single? Oh, and it’s the big button on the right. The one that says ‘on.’ I already set it up for you. Just press the button.”
“Thank you.” Bethany ignored the pulse of headache in her temple and pushed the button. Water. She needed lots and lots of water. “How are you feeling?”
“Very smug. You had fun last night, didn’t you?”
“You’re joking, right?”
“You almost danced on a bar! That’s huge. That’s like a milestone when it comes to fun. And you got swept off your f
eet by a hot fireman.”
Okay, that was twice that her sister had called Nate “hot.”
“Yes, he’s single. You two would probably be perfect for each other.”
Coffee dripped into the carafe. Even the steam rising from it made her feel better.
“You think so?” A knock sounded on the front door. “That’s probably him. Are you okay for now?”
“It’s just a hangover,” said Bethany, irritated. “Technically, it’s veisalgia. Poorly understood from a medical perspective, but most likely caused by a variety of factors including accumulation of acetaldehyde, changes in glucose metabolism, dehydration, acidosis, faulty prostaglandin synthesis, shifts in immune—”
“Jesus.” Gretel rolled her eyes. “You don’t have to go full WebMD on me. I get it. Be right back.”
Bethany gritted her teeth against another wave of headache. Her eyes felt like sandpaper. She closed them while she leaned against the counter, waiting for the coffee to drip enough to fill a cup.
“Well, don’t you look miserable.” Nate’s deep voice made her start.
Slowly, she turned around, expecting mockery or maybe pity. Instead, his sympathetic smile made her instantly relax.
“I’m not used to this. I’m a boring, one-glass-of-wine, straight-to-bed kind of woman.”
“Take it from me, you’re not boring. The rest might be accurate.” He thrust a jar filled with green liquid at her. “I brought a dose of Old Crow’s guaranteed hangover cure. I can personally vouch for it.”
“I’m a doctor, so I know that the only cure for a hangover is time.”
“Speaking as an EMT, I know that doctors don’t know everything.” He smiled at her encouragingly. “It’s really just a smoothie with some micronutrients in it. I got the recipe from him so I could break it down. It can’t hurt, put it that way.”
She accepted the jar, unscrewed the lid, and sniffed. “Banana?”
“Replaces potassium.”
She took a cautious sip, found that it had a pleasant flavor, and drank a bit more.
One thing about Nate, she realized, was that his voice fell in a very soothing tonal range. Gretel’s voice had scraped her nerves raw, but Nate’s made her feel better.
“Thank you,” she told him. “For everything.”
“Hey, no worries. We’ve all been there.”
“You’ve tried to climb up on a bar in a tight red dress?”
He laughed a little. “Something to aspire to.”
He stepped to the cupboard and pulled out three mugs. She stayed where she was, letting him do the work of pouring the coffee. His hands moved swiftly, capably, as if he could be cooking a five-course meal or splinting a broken leg, and either one would be within his skill set.
Those hands could probably work other magic, too. On her skin, on her breasts, on her…
She shook away that thought. Nate was more suited to Gretel than to her. They’d already decided they weren’t each other’s type.
“Let me ask you something, Nate, as a long-time Lost Harbor resident. Will I ever live this down? Do I need to submit my resignation immediately? Have I lost every bit of respect in this community?”
He glanced at her in surprise as he handed her the mug. “Are you really worried about that? Don’t be. No perfect people live here. Have you noticed any?”
She cradled the mug in both hands and breathed in the steam. “Right now, you seem pretty perfect.”
His eyebrows lifted toward his hairline and his eyes gleamed with amusement.
Crap. Why had she said that? It sounded as if she was interested in him, which she’d already determined she wasn’t.
“Especially for Gretel, my sister,” she added quickly. “You guys have so much in common. Where did Gretel go, anyway?”
“She went to buy some hazelnut creamer. She said she can’t drink coffee without it. I told her I wasn’t sure any store in Lost Harbor stocks it, but she was determined to try.”
Strange move for Gretel. Didn’t she want to seize this opportunity to flirt with Nate? He was so much more attractive than Ralphie Reed, in every possible way.
“Listen, Bethany. I wanted to ask you a favor.” Nate’s tone shifted from easygoing to serious. “It’s a big favor, and if you’re not feeling up for it, I get it.”
The vasodilation effect of the coffee was already helping. Or maybe there was something in that smoothie. In any case, she was able to look at Nate without the light hurting her eyes. “What do you need?”
He scrubbed a hand across the back of his neck. Wow, he actually looked uncomfortable, more so than she’d ever seen him.
“Before I start, can I ask you to keep this between us?”
Uh oh. Was he about to share some kind of embarrassing secret? “Sure, with one exception,” she told him. “If it’s a danger to Gretel, I won’t keep it from her.”
He gave her a confused frown. “Excuse me?”
“You know what I’m talking about.” She made a vague gesture indicating his body. “If this is about some kind of sexually transmitted disease, I won’t keep that from my sister.”
His eyes darkened as he held her gaze. Astonishment and horror chased across his face, followed by amusement. “I don’t even know where to start with that. But how about this—why the hell do you assume I’m about to jump into bed with your sister? It’s not flattering to either of us, considering we just met last night.”
Oh God. Nate had a point. She hadn’t intended to insult him, but she had. Could she blame her hangover? She might never drink again at this rate.
She pressed the heel of her hand into her forehead. “I apologize. That was very rude of me. I didn’t mean that you were going to jump into bed with her right away, but I know she thinks you’re attractive.”
He didn’t show much reaction to that comment, so she continued.
“And you probably think she is too, because she is. So I wouldn’t be surprised if the two of you—” Ugh, this wasn’t coming out right. “I think the two of you would be a good fit. Can we just leave it at that?”
He still didn’t look happy. In fact, “disgruntled” would be closer to the truth. But he shrugged his broad shoulders and moved on. “This has nothing to do with Gretel, or even me. The reason I need you to keep this quiet is that there’s an at-risk minor involved.”
She let out a long breath. “Okay. Why don’t you start from the beginning?”
“A few days ago, I figured out that someone was camping out in the firehouse. I decided to corner the intruder and discovered that it was a girl. I’m guessing she’s around thirteen, but I don’t know for sure.”
“Have you asked?”
“I have. She doesn’t know. I’ve been working to gain her trust, which isn’t easy. She’s wary as fuck, and very prepared to defend herself.”
A puzzle piece dropped into place. Her gaze dropped to his right arm, the one she’d bandaged. “Is she the one who stabbed you?”
All this time, she thought he’d gotten that wound during some kind of drunken altercation.
“Yes. I startled her, and it wasn’t her fault. I didn’t want to tell anyone because I feel strongly that she needs help, but could easily be scared away. My guess is that she’s a runaway, but I have no idea where from. I don’t want to alert social services yet, and I don’t want to tell the police. She’s too close to disappearing completely, and if she does that, I won’t be able to live with myself. It’s like trying to get a wild animal to eat from your hand. It takes time.”
She sipped her coffee, which tasted like a dose of bitter truth. All of her assumptions about Nate had been off base. He wasn’t about to hook up with Gretel, and he hadn’t been stabbed in a bar fight. Maybe one of these days she’d learn not to jump to conclusions about Nate.
“So where do I come in?”
“She has an injury. She said her foot got caught in a trap. She won’t let me look at it, and my gut tells me it’s because I’m a man. I was hoping that you would co
me with me and convince her to let you examine her. But I need you to promise you won’t tell anyone until we know more.”
“What if I think she needs to go to the hospital?”
“Then we try to talk her into that. Seriously, this girl has hardcore survival skills. If she feels threatened, she could lash out. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“I could bring something, some medication—”
“No. We do this on my terms, or not at all. I told you it was a big favor. I’m trusting you just by telling you about her. If you don’t want to be involved, all I ask is that you forget we had this conversation.”
She drew herself up, her spine snapping into place. If Nate really thought she’d turn her back on an injured girl, he didn’t know her.
“Of course I’ll come talk to her. I’ll keep your secret unless I feel that her life is in danger. If she’s septic and needs to be hospitalized, I won’t let that slide. It would go against my oath as a doctor.”
He nodded slowly, assessing her seriousness. “That’s fair. Okay. Do you think you’ll be ready to go later tonight? I told her that I was going to bring someone who might be able to help. By the way, don’t call yourself a doctor. She’s very suspicious of doctors, so I’ve been saying ‘healer’ instead.”
“So you were pretty confident that I’d do this?”
One corner of his mouth lifted in a smile. “Yeah, I was. You’re a healer, just like you said.”
So maybe Nate did know her better than she’d thought. She was the one who had to catch up, because Nate as the protector of armed runaway girls…actually, come to think of it, it didn’t surprise her at all.
“And a star. Let’s not leave that part out,” he added with a wink.
And just like that, Nate the Flirt was back. Was it any wonder she couldn’t get a handle on him?
Chapter Eleven
When Nate knocked on her door later that evening to pick her up, she was all ready to go. Hot shower, black coffee, and at least two gallons of water had done their job. Already in her parka, with an improvised medical bag containing antibiotics, thermometer and bandages slung over her shoulder, she stepped outside into a raw wind.
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