The Secret Ingredient (Love Around the Corner)

by Lynn Rae

  “Are you going to use a Superman bandage?”

  He deserved one, but she just shook her head as she concentrated on evaluating the injury. The bleeding seemed to have slowed from the pressure of the towel. Nate heaved out a sigh and propped his elbows on his knees.

  “Is your brother like that with everyone, or was it just me and the football thing?”

  June wasn’t surprised at his question, since it was one she usually heard every time someone met Simon. She rummaged in her bag for her first-aid kit and pulled out a gauze square. With a quick tear, she ripped open the paper covering and pressed it to his head, watching for any sign of blood seeping through. “I’d say he’s close to losing his temper more often than not; you were just a really great excuse since his future roommate, Kurt, wasn’t around. Or I should say nonfuture roommate. I have no idea what I’m going to do with him.”

  “Has he always been like that?” Nate probably thought the whole situation with her brother sounded complicated, and he’d be right.

  June stopped watching the bandage and met Nate’s gaze. This conversation was meandering into personal areas, and she wasn’t sure how much detail she wanted to give. “He’s never been what I would call happy. Even as a kid, he’d lose his temper if someone else got the last cookie or his shoestring broke. It got worse in high school. He was so unpredictable.”

  June removed the gauze pad and was happy to see little fresh blood. No stitches, so one of her large butterfly bandages should do the trick.

  “If he gets pissed about a broken shoestring, I guess breaking his arm made me enemy number one.”

  “He thinks his life went to hell because of that old injury, even though it isn’t true.” June gave him smile as she reached for her antibiotic ointment. It had been easy for Simon to blame the broken arm for the sad spiral of his life, easy for her to agree with him, but that didn’t make it right. “Simon always finds a target. That’s the reliable thing about being angry at the world, there’s always a new injustice landing at your feet.”

  After a smear of ointment, followed by application of the bandage, June leaned her rear against the sink to look over her handiwork. Other than reddened skin, which would purple to a bruise in the morning, and the large tan bandage, Nate looked good. Very good. Right. Without a conscious thought, she reached out and smoothed back some of his hair that had become disarranged in the fight.

  “Thanks for not beating him up.”

  “I was tempted.” Nate closed his eyes as she finished arranging his hair. It was thick and much softer than she’d imagined it would be. He moved his legs and bumped her knees. With an apology, he reached out and pressed a hand to her hip, and June caught her breath as he stared at her. The tiny room had grown quite warm which was no wonder considering two humans inhabited it. June’s skin prickled.

  “Did he ever hit you?” Nate’s voice was quiet, but his question seemed to echo in the room like a gunshot, and June’s whole body jerked.

  Tears burned in her eyes, and her breath thinned in her too-tight lungs. How could she deny it when every telltale reaction was on full display? Shame and regret burned in her gut.

  “Sometimes, when we were kids. He got arrested when he was eighteen, and now he mostly shouts and shoves. Hits the wall or furniture when he’s in a mood.”

  Nate frowned. Despite her discomfort with what she’d just admitted, she couldn’t help but notice he was still touching her hip. “I’m sorry.”

  Pity. Not the feeling she wanted to evoke in Nate, but she wasn’t surprised either. June shook her head to deny it, and to keep herself from making an inane reply like, “it’s okay,” because it wasn’t, and she’d spent far too much of her life pretending it was.

  “At least we didn’t have to call the police.” June put a brisk edge to her voice and forced herself to pull his hand from her hip where it seemed to have gotten stuck.

  “Sorry, did I get blood on you?” Nate used his other hand to shift her as he inspected her khakis.

  “Don’t worry about my clothes. I can wash them.”

  “Speaking of washing up.” Nate gestured at the sink, and she slid her hands to his elbows and encouraged him to stand up, telling herself to let go of him once he was on his feet. She shuffled around him so he could reach the sink and then observed as he ran his hands under the water. With a bolt of awareness, she realized she wanted to wash them, rub her thumbs along his palms, grasp and stroke his long fingers in the slippery coating of bubbles. Enough with the fantasizing.

  June turned as he toweled off, her back now pressed against the pink-tiled wall. Nate angled his body to give her more room, and all she could see was his broad chest in front of her nose. Why did she feel like crying? It was all these feelings swooping around and out of control inside. She was frustrated, ashamed, tired, and confused in such a hodgepodge she wasn’t sure how she was still standing.

  “Am I fit for duty?” Nate’s lighthearted question shook her awake, and she dipped her chin and hoped it wasn’t quivering. A wave of sadness swept over her. This man who she’d had such wrongheaded notions about had been nothing but cheerful and kind to her. What had she done for him?

  “You’ll be fine. You’re like the bandaged hero in a story.”

  Nate reached behind him for the doorknob. “I guess skinny-dipping really is out of the question.”

  Warmth filled her, and June forced herself to stop looking at the material of his shirt and meet his eyes. “I don’t think you want pond water on those cuts. Who knows what sort of infections you might get. No swinging statues either.”

  She heard a click.

  “What was that?”

  “I locked the door.”

  “Why—” June stopped speaking, because Nate was easing her back toward the wall, arms on either side of her as he stared down at her, a slight line between his eye brows. The tile against her back was a cool contrast to the warmth from his close body.

  “I still want to play a game with you.”

  “Red light, green light?”

  “No room in here for that one. I took all the empties to the recycling, so I don’t have a bottle to spin.” His voice had gone lower and softer, and the negative emotions roiling in her mind were dissolving into a gooey mass of uncertainty. Did he just imply he wanted to kiss her?

  “I don’t know what game would work in a small bathroom.” As soon as she said it, she thought of airplane bathrooms and the mythical Mile High Club, and she knew she was blushing. They could certainly play that game in here. Nate was strong and coordinated enough to pull it off, and judging by all the blood rushing around in her body, she was up for it too.

  “Truth or Dare would work.”

  June’s breathing went shallow as she fought the urge to bite her lip and blink her eyelashes. She didn’t want to come across as unsophisticated or ready to back down. “Are you going first?”

  A small grin worked across his lips as he studied her. He raised his hand and touched her neck. “Why aren’t you wearing one of your little animals?”

  “Is that the question? Right. I was moving boxes, and I didn’t want to risk losing one. Getting it caught on something or falling off in transit. They’re old.” To her ears, she sounded breathless.

  “Are you moving?”

  “Isn’t it my turn?” June wanted to take some control of this situation. She was locked in a snug bathroom with a sexually attractive man who was sweet to her, and she’d already had her fingers in his hair. Anything could happen and the thought made her nervous. At least he’d stopped touching her neck, and she could concentrate. Sort of.

  “Go ahead. I want you to dare me.”

  “A dare, huh? Are you afraid I’ll ask a question you don’t want to answer?”

  “No, I’m not afraid of any questions. My turn again.” He grinned with triumph at her squeak of consternation. She needed to pay better attention to sentence structure, or maybe she wasn’t remembering how to play this game correctly. The last time had b
een years ago, and her adversaries had been childhood peers on the playground.

  “Truth or dare, Jonesy? Which is it going to be?”

  “Truth.”

  “Scaredy-cat.” Somehow his arms were on either side of her shoulders, and the rest of his body had gotten so close to hers she wouldn’t be able to move an inch without touching some part of him. If she took too deep a breath, her breasts would press against his chest. Which might not be a bad idea. “Do you want to kiss me?”

  Stunned to silence, June gaped, her mind as blank as a freshly wiped whiteboard. All she could do was stare at his mouth.

  “No answer. Then I get to dare you.” Nate narrowed his eyes. “Kiss me.”

  “No fair,” June whispered, everything in her body tingling with a strange mixture of anticipation and uncertainty.

  “Someone’s got to win; someone’s got to lose,” Nate whispered back as he slid his fingertips along her cheek. June wondered if he could hear her heart hammering loud enough to echo in this small space. “It’s not fair at all.”

  Somehow she was leaning his way; something in his soft voice lured her and with a mental throwing-in of the towel, she relented. It was a game. It didn’t mean anything—

  Just a gentle brush of his soft mouth against hers, and her body shook. Static electricity, that’s all it was. Despite the threat of another shake, she didn’t draw back. He felt good against her lips, and she allowed herself another nuzzle, which gave her a warm pulse through her veins. Enough.

  Drawing back, even though her mouth seemed magnetically attracted to his body, June met his half-lidded gaze and made an attempt at bravado. “I win.”

  “I don’t feel like a loser,” Nate replied with a rumble as he circled his arms around her and tugged her into his chest. As her hands slid against him, he kissed her in reply. Not a light caress, nothing gamelike about it. His mouth shifted against hers as he moved his body to align his thighs with hers. One of his big hands slid down her back to press her hips closer. All she could do was ease against him; all she wanted to do was lean on him and melt her lips into his.

  Heat flared across her skin, and her knees shook as he nibbled at her mouth, teasing her until she relaxed her jaw enough for him to deepen his kiss. She felt him breath deep as her breasts pressed against the firm muscles of his chest.

  “Nate! You in there? Where’s that woman?” Patty Garner’s voice shattered the spell, and he pulled away from her quick enough she was surprised there wasn’t a popping sound when his mouth left hers. The door behind them rattled.

  “I’m in here, Mom,” Nate answered, his blue eyes never wavering from her. June swallowed and shut her mouth, overwhelmed by what had just happened.

  “Where is she? That secretary?”

  “I’m in here,” June answered without thinking, and Nate winced, his hands tightening against her momentarily as he shook his head.

  “Why’d you tell her that?” he whispered, and she shrugged.

  “She’s going to see me when we come out.”

  “We could stay in here until she goes away.” Nate was grinning at her now, his fingers pressing against her waist and back as he glanced at her mouth.

  “Why’s this door locked? Get on out of there, I need to use it!” Nate’s mother bellowed, and June raised up on her toes to see over Nate’s shoulder. That door might be shaking off its hinges for the amount of tugging the other woman was doing.

  “I think fun-and-games time is over,” June said, not liking being the responsible one. As she’d suspected, Nate was leading her into nonsense, and as she feared, she liked it far too much. Truth or Dare and kissing in a bathroom. What was she, sixteen?

  “Too bad. I like losing to you, Jonesy.”

  At the use of that annoying nickname, she pushed at his chest, both to get him to move out of the way and to express her frustration. He laughed and moved to the side as he unlocked the door. Without pause, it swung open, and Nate’s mother stared in at them, lines of impatience creasing her makeup. June grabbed up her bag and held it in front of her.

  “Come on out. I need to get in there.”

  Nate gestured for her to exit, and June carefully stepped around him and past his mother, all while being aware of the light pressure of his hand on her arm and back, and then it was gone. She wondered if the other woman knew they’d been kissing. She felt like she’d been branded, because her lips were still tingling.

  Nate’s mother shooed him out and slammed the door behind her. June didn’t look back as she retraced her steps along the narrow corridor and exited to the public side of the bar. There were a few more patrons and someone had put money in the jukebox. It was time to leave, which meant she had to say goodbye.

  After stuttering to a halt in the middle of the floor, she turned on her heel and looked at Nate’s neck, a safer option than glancing up and encountering his mouth or eyes.

  “I’d better be going. I have to go home now.”

  She sounded like a robot, but it communicated the point clearly enough.

  “I’ll walk you to your car,” Nate replied, and he reached out to capture her elbow.

  “You don’t have to.” It was an automatic demurral; she wanted him to walk her to her car and open the door for her and give her another kiss. Follow her back to her place and come inside, not stop touching her until she—

  “But I want to. Come on, Jonesy.” Nate joggled her arm, and with a sigh, she walked to the door, his big body shadowing hers until he escorted her to the parking lot and her car. She’d very practically parked under a streetlight, even though it had been twilight when she’d arrived. It seemed like hours had passed, and June wasn’t quite sure what had happened to her evening.

  “So, am I going to see you tomorrow?”

  June was distracted from thinking about his chest by his question. Her schedule. She hadn’t thought about it since she’d arrived at the bar, which wasn’t surprising considering how much drama had just ensued. After dropping her bag on the hood of the car, she rummaged inside until she lifted her book out and opened it to the correct page. Thank goodness she’d parked under this light. One of Nate’s fingers descended on her color-blocked grid and stroked along the hours marked “film as needed.”

  “What do we need to film?”

  “Uh, nothing. Considering what I got here tonight.” June paused, and her face heated as she realized she’d gotten quite a lot. Nate read her mind, judging by the satisfied grin he sported.

  “Then we can do what we want between, ah, three and six p.m.” He leaned close to peer at the calendar, curving his body to her side, close enough she could feel his body heat through her clothing. “And you don’t have anything scheduled after that, so you’re free.”

  “I guess. Don’t you have to work?”

  “Nope. Let’s do something.” Nate shifted his grip from her elbow down her arm until he was finally balancing her fingertips in his palm.

  June’s mind reeled. What did he have in mind for those hours? “Like what?”

  “I think we should go shopping again, at a real grocery.”

  Oh, he wanted her to have more film options, nothing personal. June told herself to place what had happened between them in the bathroom in the it-was-just-for-fun category. Games. Ha-ha. Just like Nate. She agreed and kept her eyes on the calendar as she made a notation, not daring to look at him and reveal any sort of disappointment.

  “That’s okay with you?” Nate’s voice had grown quiet again, and she felt his fingers squeezing her own.

  “Sure, of course. It’s right here on the calendar,” June stammered and finally looked up at him. He was grinning at her, and she wondered what humorous thing she might have done. “Grocery-shopping filming, no location.”

  Nate’s free hand hovered over her calendar, and he swiped her pen. He bent over the pages, his shoulder bumping her own as he wrote in her book. June squinted as she read his surprisingly legible printing, “Simple Market, Columbus. Nate and June, dinner.” H
e’d drawn an arrow down through the rest of the evening, and when she realized he intended to spend all those hours with her, her stomach fluttered, and she wobbled on her toes.

  “I’ll pick you up tomorrow. Text me your address.”

  Disentangling his fingers from hers, he folded up her planner, dropped it in her bag, and handed everything over to her. As she fumbled with her belongings and wondered if he was going to kiss her good-night, Nate had opened her car door and was nudging her into the driver’s side seat.

  “Buckle up. Drive carefully,” Nate said as he closed her door for her. Uncertain about so many things, June rolled her window down and looked up at him.

  With an easy sway, he leaned down and crossed his arms on the open door window. “Sleep tight, Jonesy. You better get going before your coach turns into a pumpkin.”

  “It’s not that late is it?” Distracted from wishing for a kiss, she looked at her watch. Ten, ten p.m., not even close to midnight. Nate laughed at her vigilance and rose up, tapping his hand on the roof of her car. With reluctance, she started up the vehicle and backed out of her spot, glancing at Nate as he raised his hand in a farewell wave and watched her leave. The streetlight overhead spotlighted him like he was already on a Hollywood stage.

  So much for another kiss.

  * * * *

  Nate crouched in a chair at the pediatrician’s office, crowded on one side by a play table filled with wooden train parts and germs, and his sister and her infant children swarming over the other. Maddie and Morgan didn’t swarm exactly. They were plump and preferred to have their seats on adult laps so they could survey the activities of older children. Kayla, Becky’s oldest, had managed to get away from her little sisters and was seated across the room at a small table with a bucket of broken crayons and some coloring sheets.