The Secret Ingredient (Love Around the Corner)

by Lynn Rae

  “My sense of ethics demands it.” Nate leaned on the bar and stared at her, a tiny smile on his lips. “The bartender’s guild would revoke my pour license.”

  “I’m not sure what I have to confess.” June was stalling for time, because the longer he looked at her, the more unsure she became. She didn’t have a dramatic life.

  “Let me guess. You didn’t slow down at a yellow light today but went on through the intersection.”

  June tilted her head back. He really thought she was prim and proper. “Maybe that’s true, but I don’t feel guilty about obeying the law.”

  Somehow he was leaning even closer to her, and she picked up the glass of juice as a shield. “Do you have anything to feel guilty about?”

  June took a sip of her juice and tried to look mysterious, but she knew it was a failure as soon as Nate’s eyes lit up like he’d discovered some heinous secret.

  “Come on, shock me.”

  “I doubt that’s possible.”

  “You never know.” He drew dangerously close, leaned his elbows against the bar, and allowed his hands to rest alongside her arms. “I’m just a simple guy from a small town.”

  June shook her head and told herself not to flirt with him. “People can get up to all sorts of nonsense in small towns. Not that I do.”

  “Why not? Nonsense is pretty fun.”

  “Because, I have to behave myself.” June swallowed hard. Her brother used her for emotional stability, her grandmother needed her physical help, and all the kids she worked with depended on her to be reliable and in control.

  “Not with me you don’t.”

  “I’m sure lots of people have gotten up to all sorts of hijinks with you. All of your flashy wannabes just waiting for the invitation.” Lots of shenanigans and impulsiveness, squealing, and getting out of breath. Nate was practically an advertisement for good times and fun. June shook her head, dismayed by her fanciful thoughts. Had he slipped some alcohol in this drink when she wasn’t looking?

  “I’m not like that.” Nate moved some cocktail napkins around and gave her an assessing look as he dropped one in front of her and placed her glass on it. Right, as if anyone as handsome and charming as he lived like a monk. He still leaned perilously close to her, and June wondered why. It wasn’t as if the bar was so crowded and noisy he had to speak in her ear to be heard. She could smell woodsy soap on his warm skin, and her toes curled inside her sneakers.

  “Okay. Suppose I was open to fun. What would be your expert suggestion? Toilet papering? Taking apart a car and reassembling it inside the school gym? Stink bombs?”

  Granted, her ideas were rather juvenile, but that’s what working with kids got you. Nate blinked once and then leaned back and boomed out a laugh. The man at the end of the bar jerked and almost fell off his barstool at the outburst.

  “Jonesy, I’d love to go toilet papering with you, but that’s more of a fall activity. It’s the middle of summer vacation, so let’s take that into account.” His blue eyes sparkled with mischief. June wondered why they were even talking about this sort of thing. She should be going home, not firmly parked on a squashy barstool and staring at Nate Garner as he nearly flirted with her. “Warm weather calls for something like skinny-dipping, don’t you think?”

  Her gut clenched with shock. Okay, no nearly about it, Nate was flirting. With her. Goodness. Flirt back.

  “I’m not a very good swimmer.” Epic flirt fail. Nate didn’t seem deterred as he scooted her way and stroked a fingertip down her arm; she shivered and something deep inside clenched tight.

  “Then we pick a shallow pond.”

  June couldn’t stop herself from shaking her head once. He wasn’t serious. He probably couldn’t help himself. If there were any other females in the vicinity, he’d be doing the same thing with them. She was just a convenient target. Her phone buzzed suddenly, and June sent off a prayer of thanks up into the ether.

  Excusing herself, she reached into her bag and looked at the caller, worried for her grandmother. It was her brother. Damn. She’d thought he was settled for the night. Turning slightly on the barstool, June glanced at Nate before she answered.

  “Hey, Simon. What’s up?”

  “Where are you?” Her brother’s tone was bright with tension, and June repressed a shudder. Something was bothering him. “Grandma said you were going home, but you’re not here.”

  Damn, he was at her house. “I can be there in a few minutes—”

  “No, I’ll come to you. Shit’s just hit the fan.” Dread filled her. She’d thought the family-tracking apps on their phones would be reassuring, but now she was regretting it. Her apartment was only a few minutes away. Before she could attempt to warn him off again, her brother had hung up the phone.

  * * * *

  “Boyfriend calling you home?”

  Nate couldn’t stop himself from asking. Of course she had a boyfriend, and the guy would want her home before bedtime. June’s eyes widened, and she shook her head. She kept shaking her head at him, and he wasn’t sure what he was doing wrong.

  “It was my brother, not my boyfriend.”

  Great, so she did have—

  “Not a boyfriend. I mean, I don’t have a boyfriend,” June corrected herself as she stashed her phone and camera back in her bag and slid half off the stool.

  “I don’t have one either.” Nate spoke up and then winced when he realized how that sounded. June stopped fussing with her bag and frowned at him.

  “Oh, you’re…”

  “No, I’m not.” Nate’s frustration rose. He just couldn’t seem to say the right thing to June. Ever. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that.”

  “Of course not. I’m not either.” June stared at him as she balanced on the edge of the stool. Okay, they’d managed to establish they were heterosexual and not involved. Would she stay, or would she go? She tilted her head, made a thoughtful noise, and scooted back onto the barstool. “Is it even warm enough to go skinny-dipping?”

  Nate wanted to pump his fist in the air. June was willing to play. “Probably not. Let’s try it in August when it’s been ninety degrees for a week straight.”

  June narrowed her eyes and leaned her elbows on the bar. “We’ll see.”

  “I’ll believe you when you write it in your planner. ‘August twelfth: skinny-dip with Nate Garner at Wilson’s pond, 9:30 to 10:30 p.m.’” Nate mimed, flipping open a book and making a note. June chuckled, and he knew he needed to think of something enticing to keep her there a little longer.

  “We could play red light, green light.” Okay, so he was using pickup lines he’d retired in fourth grade, but June didn’t seem to mind.

  “Swinging statues?”

  Nate held up his hands and theatrically flexed his arms while looking her over. She had to weigh about a hundred pounds soaking wet. “So you think you can toss me around?”

  “If I had good leverage,” June shot back. “I have some muscles.”

  Nate scoffed, and June curled her lips in a pugnacious scowl. She lifted up her arm and pushed back her sleeve to show him a respectable swell of muscle on her biceps. Unable to resist, he leaned over the bar and tapped at her arm with his fingertips. She growled and put on a semblance of a game face, and he found himself wanting desperately to kiss her, guide her arms around his neck as he sank in. Maybe she caught on to the change in his attention, because she lowered her eyes and cleared her throat.

  “You probably could toss me around, come to think of it.”

  June met his gaze again, and a shadow of worry settled over her features. “I don’t hit people. I wouldn’t—”

  “Easy, Jonesy. I was making a joke.”

  The door opening distracted him, and he glanced up to see a slim, blond man enter and make a beeline for June. He approached with a frown, and Nate saw a similarity in their features and realized this must be her brother. June noticed him when he sat down next to her, and Nate couldn’t help but see she didn’t greet him with much ent
husiasm.

  “Simon, you got here quick.”

  The brother nodded and braced his hands on the bar like he was planning to stay awhile. “June, you wouldn’t believe it. Kurt says his brother needs the room. Just like that, I’ve got no place to stay. You have to go over and get Grandma off that list for the Acres first thing tomorrow. Jeez, I could use a drink.”

  June glanced from her brother to Nate and hesitated. She’d grown pale and those little worry lines appeared on her forehead again.

  “Simon Sinclair, right?” Nate stuck out his hand and the other man shook automatically. “I’m Nate Garner, a friend of June’s.”

  Simon nodded absently and turned his attention back to his sister for a split second until he stared back at Nate, comprehension dawning.

  “Did you say Nate Garner?” Simon asked, and June took a breath. “You played football for Palmer twelve years ago?”

  “I did.” Nate stopped speaking, unsure if he should apologize for breaking the guy’s arm again. Better to be polite. “And you played for Western. Sorry about your arm.”

  “You’re sorry? About what? Making the big play and winning the game while I got carried off the field?” Simon’s bright brown eyes, so similar to June’s, lit up with outrage. His voice had grown higher-pitched by the end of his statement.

  “I didn’t make a big play. I didn’t even score that night.” Well, he had with Cissy Brule in the back of his Camry, but that had been later.

  Simon spoke up and twitched to his feet. “You just crippled me that night. I was out of school so long I was held back, my arm hurts all the time, and I can’t work. June, what the hell are you doing here with this guy?”

  She held up her hands and made a placating gesture. “Simon, it’s no big deal, calm down—”

  “It sure as hell is a big deal. You’ve been telling me to calm down all day. First you complain I don’t have enough energy to help Grandma out around the house, and then you criticize me when I get up and do something. What is it with you June? You just like driving me crazy with your back and forth.”

  “Simon, I’m not criticizing—” June had slid from her seat and stood with it between her and her brother. Nate’s earlier misgivings about this sibling relationship went into overdrive, along with Simon’s increasing volume. He had a fine-tuned sense of when a conflict might escalate, a very useful skill in bartending where things went from happy to knock-down, drag-out in seconds.

  “Of course you are. You always do! Little Miss Perfect, with her squeaky clean life.” Simon shoved at the barstool June was using as a barrier, and Nate moved unthinkingly toward the bar gate. He was past the barricade in a second and had rounded the corner of the bar before June’s brother could react to his presence.

  “I’m going to ask you to step outside.” Nate kept his gaze on Simon’s flushed face, but he also noticed Ted and his mother watching from the back doorway, ready to intervene. Bert had spun around on his stool to observe with a scholarly interest.

  “And I’m going to tell you to fuck off.” Nate had at least five inches and fifty pounds on the guy, but Simon wasn’t backing down.

  “Not in my place.” Nate grabbed the neck of the other man’s shirt and the waist of his jeans and propelled him to the door, not hesitating or giving Simon a moment to dig in his heels or protest. Move quickly and don’t telegraph your intentions; that was the way to keep control in a bar. From the corner of his eye Nate could see June following along, and he felt a momentary regret that he’d probably blown whatever fragile chance he might have had with her as soon as he’d laid hands on her brother.

  Simon was struggling and grunting out profanities as they reached the door, and Nate had to adjust his grip to free a hand to turn the knob. The thinner man took the opportunity to twist away and take a swing at him. Nate couldn’t duck the blow very well. Simon hit his temple and sent a sharp spike of pain banging through his brain like a gong. Nate pulled on the door one-handed and straight-armed June’s brother with the other, hoping the guy’s reach was less than his own.

  Simon struggled and lost his footing, his sudden weight pulling on Nate’s overbalanced body and almost tipping him over onto the tile floor. The other man kicked and twisted, and Nate released his hold on the doorknob to try and regain control. June was nearby, her face a pale circle as she held out her hands in an appeasing gesture.

  “Please, Simon, just go. Stop making a scene.”

  With a sudden snarl, Simon shifted his attention to June and kicked at her with all his might. She cried out, and Nate had no idea if a blow had landed, because he was heaving the other man out the door, his back muscles straining to lift and throw the man toward the parking lot and away from June.

  Simon landed in a heap on the sidewalk, a streetlight overhead giving him a yellowish tinge.

  “That’s assault!”

  “Call the cops!” Nate shouted back and turned toward the door to look for June. She hadn’t followed them outside, and he worried for her safety. He hadn’t even taken a breath before a weight crashed into him from behind, and he stumbled to his knees. The guy wouldn’t stay down. Bracing himself with his hands on the gritty pavement, Nate pushed back and felt Simon fall away.

  Heaving to his feet, Nate spun and kept an eye on June’s brother as he backed toward the door. Simon was again sprawled in the parking lot, breathing hard and staring at Nate like he wanted to tear him a new one. Not gonna happen. Nate’s temper was building, and if he hadn’t been worried about June, he would have considered a brawl in the street, just like this guy seemed to be aiming for.

  Nate took a deep breath and told his heart to slow down. This wasn’t high school, and he wasn’t going to risk jail and a mark on his record over something this stupid. “Stay out, Simon. You aren’t welcome here.”

  The other man shouted some curses his way but didn’t approach any closer, so Nate left him outside and went back to the bar, looking for June. To his relief, she was standing just inside the doorway, her hands clenched together in front of her. His mother passed him and looked out door, likely to make sure Simon left the premises without damaging anyone’s vehicles.

  “Is he—” June stopped herself. Nate wondered why she hadn’t followed her brother outside. It didn’t really matter; he was glad she’d stayed.

  “He’s all right. Just mad as hell.”

  June’s shoulders slumped. “He’s always like that. I’m so sorry.”

  Nate shrugged and drew closer, glancing at her to make sure she wasn’t hurt. Other than her tightly clenched hands, she seemed fine, although, once she looked up at him, her mouth fell open, and she made a soft sound.

  “Oh, Nate, you’re bleeding.”

  Chapter 7

  Nate glanced down at himself and then looked up with confusion. June’s guilt crushed her when she noticed the blood dripping down his face.

  “Come here, where the light’s better.” She wrapped her fingers around his arm and led him toward the doorway behind the bar where the fluorescents glowed. His skin was warm against her cold fingers. She’d been cold ever since Simon had entered the bar with rage in his eyes, and she was surprised Nate didn’t pull away from her frigid touch.

  Once she got him in the light and could see the gash on his temple, her stomach plummeted. It was deep and wide and lots of bright red blood dripped down his cheek and onto his shoulder. His shirt was going to be ruined if he didn’t soak it in cold water soon. He brushed his hand against his face and looked at the gore on his fingers.

  “Oh. I’m bleeding.”

  “It’s deep, maybe we should get you in for stitches.”

  He tightened his lips and gave her a tough-guy look. “It barely hurts. I’ll just wash it off.”

  June had about reached her limit with men and their bravado. “Come on, I’ll clean it off and have a look.”

  Nate shifted his shoulders and gave a half nod of agreement. “Hey, Ted, can you watch the bar until Mom gets back?”

  The si
lent man, who June had barely noticed before, shuffled past them to get behind the bar, and the other man who’d sat on his stool the whole time rose and handed June her bag. She thanked him and asked Nate where they could go for a sink, soap, and towels. He directed her into the narrow room behind the bar, part storeroom, part office, part kitchen. There was a cluttered desk surrounded by piles of boxes, and she spotted a stove and refrigerator farther along the wall. After stepping carefully around a stack of chairs, he opened a door and turned on a light to reveal a small, clean bathroom fitted out with flamingo-pink appliances.

  “It’s, ah, unique,” Nate explained as he entered the room and peered at himself in the mirror over the sink. She crowded in next to him and ordered him to take a seat on the toilet so she could get a good look. Moving in front of him, she grabbed at a stack of clean towels and held one to the gash. Instructing him to hold it, she twisted in the confined room and washed her hands off after dropping her bag on the toilet tank behind Nate’s broad shoulders.

  Her awkward position, forced by the bathroom’s miniscule proportions, meant her rear pressed against the edge of the sink while her knees bumped against Nate’s. She shifted her feet and wondered how long she was going to be in here before her legs cramped.

  Nate gave her a questioning look while holding the wadded white towel to his face.

  “You okay?”

  “Sure, I’m not squeamish.”

  “No, I meant about your brother. Me throwing him out like that.”

  “It’s fine. I don’t mean that. It’s not fine, he shouldn’t behave that way, but what you did was fine. Appropriate for the circumstances.” June eased the towel away from his head as she wiped tacky blood away from his skin. “I’m going to apologize for him since he never will. I’m sorry you had to do that. Simon is…”

  June didn’t know what words to use to describe her brother. It seemed wrong to catalog his faults, so instead, she remained silent as she cleaned around the wound. Nate’s eyelids flickered as she daubed, and she wondered if she was hurting him, but he didn’t flinch away. Not that he could get away from her in this space. Nate was a big guy, and she was becoming uncomfortably aware of the girth of his arms and the thick muscles stretching along his thighs as she leaned over him. His lips quirked, and he glanced up at her.