by Lynn Rae
Nate’s tiny, teasing touches combined with his big firm chest and his soft groan all combined to destroy June’s self-control, and she collapsed, her legs trembling as aching heat built between them. If it hadn’t felt so good, she’d be embarrassed by how much she wanted to wrap her legs around him after he’d only kissed her for a minute.
He scooped her up and propped her on the counter, drawing away to look at her as she blinked slowly at him. He breathed hard, and she decided she could watch his chest rise and fall for several minutes since she wasn’t running her fingers through his hair anymore. “Was that a minute?”
“Don’t know. Do you have a kitchen timer?”
Responding to the heat and humor in his eyes, she scrambled her hand over to her stove to pick up her little steel egg timer. Frowning at it, she set it for a minute, showed him the readout, and pushed it back out of harm’s way. It ticked four times before he returned, those teasing nibbles morphing into deeper kisses with pauses and little exhalations of breath along her cheeks.
If she’d been capable of counting, she would have guessed thirty seconds had elapsed before she spread her knees apart, and he eased his hips between her thighs, one of his big hands spread wide against the small of her back to hold her tight as he rocked against her.
The timer buzzed, and they broke apart. Nate bumped his mouth down her cheek to nuzzle against her neck as she gasped like a boiling kettle, her toes curling as he nipped along her skin.
June fumbled behind her for the timer, arching her back and pushing herself against his chest. With an awkward movement she pulled the buzzing device with her fingertips and managed to silence it as Nate slid his hands along her sides, tantalizingly close to her breasts. Everything felt good, from the top of her head to her still-curled toes.
“So tell me, Jonesy, what do you like for breakfast?”
Chapter 11
He knew he’d made a mistake as soon as he’d made the “b” sound for breakfast, but by then it was too late to stop. June went from stroking her hands along his back and being soft and welcoming to all stiff muscles and a definite push away. Her eyes narrowed as she frowned at him.
“Just because you’re kissing me in the kitchen doesn’t mean you’re getting me into the bedroom.”
Nate flailed for some words that would smooth the situation. “I didn’t mean, I—”
June scooted back on the counter and clutched her little timer in front of her chest like a shield. Its ticks slowly wound down, just like his chances with her. “I’m sure that’s your go-to line for most seductions. But you’ve already made me eggs a couple of times.”
Shit. His arousal plummeted along with his confidence, and Nate took a step away from her and held up his hands, not wanting to crowd her now that foreplay was off the schedule. “Bad choice of words. I cook, so that’s what I think about.”
“You think about cooking when you’re kissing me? That’s quite a compliment.” June hopped off the counter and swept around him, out of her small kitchen. “What were you doing, making up a new spicy sauce recipe while you had your tongue in my mouth?”
Okay, she was really pissed off at him. Again. They’d managed a few really great minutes together, but then his stupid mouth had jumped ahead of his even more sluggish brain, and he’d ruined it. What was it about June Sinclair that made him so clumsy?
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it the way it sounded.”
June whirled around in her living room and came back at him. “Really? You weren’t thinking about spending the night with me?”
No matter how he answered he was mincemeat. “Ah, I was, and I wasn’t.”
She tilted her head and gave him one of the most fed-up looks he’d ever received. It ranked right up there with the one his mother had bestowed on him one year when she’d found out he and Becky had discovered the small stash of Christmas presents hidden in the attic. “Well, that’s about as wishy-washy a declaration as I’ve ever heard. It’s great knowing I’m sort of attractive. Good-night, Nate Garner.”
She had sarcasm down as well as she had her calendar planned. Retreat was his best option, so Nate headed toward the door, trying not to think about what very pleasurable things he and June might have been doing by now if he’d just kept using his mouth on her.
* * * *
Rita shook her head as she slid the plate back through the pass-through. “He ordered hard; these are so runny the white isn’t even set.”
Nate accepted the eggs he’d messed up with a contrite nod and immediately set to cooking a new order. He’d been off all morning. Not off, he’d been cooking like he’d never even operated an Easy Bake oven, and this was at least the fifth returned plate he’d had to correct. First he’d charred pancakes; then he’d forgotten to hit the bacon with the press so it turned into unappetizing little twists, and then he’d put the wrong fillings in half the omelets he’d made. The diner would be in the red by noon if he didn’t shape up and concentrate.
“What’s the trouble today? Hungover?” Rita leaned closer to him as she waited for the order. Apparently all the customers were settled for the moment so she had time to needle him. He deserved it. His mistakes were going to cost her tips and had already added extra steps to her day, something a server never liked.
“Not hungover, just keep losing track of what I’m doing.” As he talked, he’d cracked the eggs and watched them closely as they sizzled on the griddle, determined to send out the most perfectly cooked fried eggs the waiting customer had ever seen.
“You ain’t in Hollywood yet. Save the daydreaming for your break.”
“I know, Rita. I’m not thinking about that.” Nate didn’t look at her, he monitored the edges of the eggs as they browned slightly, time to turn and not break the yolks.
“Oh, woman trouble then,” Rita said in a knowing tone. If she’d been chewing gum, she would have cracked it.
Nate shrugged as he slid his spatula under the cooking whites. The waitress was right, but thinking about June made him blue. More accurately, thinking about what she must think of him made him depressed. He’d acted like an arrogant ass with her, treated her like a sure thing, and she’d rightly tossed him to the curb. How was he ever going to face her? He probably wouldn’t have to; there was no reason for them to ever see each other again. He ached a little with that realization. He truly liked her, even putting aside how hot she got him, and he’d blown a chance for friendship right along with anything else.
“How’s my order coming?”
Rita’s quick question snapped him out of his thoughts, and he hurriedly scooped up the eggs and slid them on a waiting warm plate, which he sent through the pass-through after sticking on a sprig of parsley. The waitress took a long look at them and gave a quick nod. Nate exhaled and double-checked his tickets. Everything was out and hopefully made correctly, so he scraped the hot metal of the griddle to get rid of debris before Rita came back with a new order.
He heard his phone ring and stepped back from the hot equipment to check it. Considering the way his morning had gone, he’d likely drop it right in the middle of the deep fryer. When he read the caller ID, he was so shocked he stumbled back into the cooler, rattling the contents.
“Hi, June. How are you?” Did he sound as hesitant as he felt? Nate told himself not to say yet another stupid comment.
“I’m, ah, I’m busy.” She didn’t sound angry, which was a good thing, but instead rather weary. Calling him was probably in her long to-do list, highlighted on the top left corner of her planner for the day. She waited a beat and then continued with her task. “I bet you’re wondering why I called.”
“I am. Not that I’m not glad to hear from you. I want to apolo—”
“You don’t need to apologize to me. I overreacted. So I’m sorry, too.” She spoke quickly, and he sensed she wanted to finish this call as fast as she could. “I just wanted to check in with you and make sure you sent the audition.”
He could picture her, a pen poised o
ver her schedule, ready to cross him off her list. A little tease of irritation took over. He didn’t want to disappear from June Sinclair’s planner. “You thought I forgot?”
“No. Just asking for confirmation.” She cleared her throat. “Not that you have to tell me a thing.”
Rita hadn’t appeared at the pass-through, so there were no new orders, and he could concentrate on this call a bit longer. “I sent it this morning. First thing. Kinda felt like throwing up first, but I still hit the Send button. So, whenever people check their e-mail in California it’ll be there with a day to spare, just like you planned.”
He’d tried to make her laugh, and it seemed to work. Her soft chuckle curled in his ear and he grinned. She was as spicy sweet as candied ginger, and he liked her more with every breath he took. He thought she liked him too. Less, since last night’s fumble, but maybe he could pick up the ball and make some yards anyway.
“That’s good. I’m glad you did it. So, I just wanted to say thanks.”
“Why? I should be thanking you.”
“I wanted to thank you for being nice. The whole experience could have been a lot more, uh, awkward, if you hadn’t been nice.”
Nate knew being called nice was usually the kiss of death for sex, but June was nice and sexy as hell, so maybe she reciprocated. He thought about her mouth close to her phone, and his mouth close to his, and his concentration went hazy for a moment. “Don’t tell anyone or you’ll ruin my reputation.”
Rita was at the pass-through watching him with slit eyes. She didn’t clip a ticket up; he nodded and half turned away so he could concentrate on June as she laughed again.
“What is your reputation? I spend most of my time with people under eighteen, and they don’t notice many people older than twenty, so I don’t know the scuttlebutt on you.”
Well, that was a minefield. He hardly wanted to tell her he was the good-time guy just wandering through a life no one expected much of. He knew most of the women he’d been involved with had wanted him because of his looks, not because of who he was. He wasn’t educated, didn’t drive an impressive car, or have a successful career. “I’m probably not the sort of person you’d get to know, normally.”
“What do you mean?” June’s voice lowered and quieted.
“Well, I hang out at bars and in kitchens. You’re respectable and responsible, taking care of kids. You have a real job with benefits. A retirement plan.”
“So what? You aren’t a criminal or a scammer, are you? Of course you aren’t.” June hadn’t waited for him to reply, and his pride lifted a bit. “You work hard, harder than most people I know. You’re talented. You’re funny. And you’re nice.”
“You said that before.” Nate listened to her breathe and watched the pass-through. The bell over the door hadn’t rung, so there were no new customers, but he still needed to wrap up this call and be ready for Rita whenever she popped up next.
“I know. But nice is good. It’s great. I don’t understand why people don’t value it more.”
Something in Nate’s brain contracted at her sincere words. She did like him, and she liked things about him he didn’t even think of. He needed to see her again, even if it was only for a cup of coffee at the diner when he could take a fifteen-minute break. That desire was so strong he clenched the phone even tighter, and he closed his eyes so he could concentrate and not say the wrong thing to her again.
“June, are you free today?”
“What? Why?”
“We could get together for a coffee, toast me getting the audition out on time.” Or I’ll bring a bottle of wine over to your place and rub your feet while you drink it.
“Oh. I wish I could,” she murmured, and again, he could picture her frowning at her schedule and tapping her pen as she analyzed. “But I’m helping my grandmother move her boxes today. She’s depending on me.”
Nate was sure Simon Sinclair was going to be far from the scene and leave tiny June and her elderly grandmother to manage the heavy lifting.
“I’ll help.” Anything to have an excuse to see her and have her think he was nice.
“No, I couldn’t ask—”
“You didn’t ask. I volunteered. I get off in an hour. I’ll be there after I change.”
“Nate, please.” He liked the way she said his name. Realizing he was smiling and hoping she’d relent and give him permission to carry heavy boxes to and fro in the hot afternoon sun, Nate wondered what the hell was wrong with him. Denial again, he was well aware and didn’t want to admit it. He didn’t want her last impression of him to be a pushy player assuming he was getting laid because he was getting kissed.
“You helped me so let me help you. Come on.” When was the last time he’d tried to coax a woman into anything other than a bed?
“Okay.” She relented with a deep sigh. “Then we’re even.”
“You got it, Jonesy.” There was a clatter at the counter, and he looked up to see Rita tapping her wristwatch and holding up a ticket. With a nod he tried to reassure the waitress he’d be off the phone and cooking more eggs or French toast or hash browns soon. “Sorry, but I just got an order,” he strained to see the ticket, coming perilously close to dropping the phone in the fryer, “for silver-dollar pancakes and a fruit cup.”
“Of course, you’re at work. I’m sorry I’m taking up your time.”
Nate shook his head as he grabbed the pitcher of batter from the cooler. “I wanted to talk with you. I’ll see you later. Don’t lift anything too heavy until I get there.”
“Okay, I’ll wait to lift the heavy stuff until you’re here to supervise. I’ll show off my muscles.”
* * * *
Grandma was impressed. Her little face crinkled in a smile, and she grinned every time Nate looked her way. He had generously volunteered his truck for hauling, and they had just dropped off and neatly stacked most of her grandmother’s boxed possessions at the new place. Now they were standing in the parking lot of the assisted-living facility as June tried to arrange transportation. She felt awkward since Nate was still standing there with his dimple on display as Grandma complimented him over and over on how kind and strong he was. He knew she had to drive her grandma home, and she’d expected him to go on his way once they’d unloaded everything from the bed of his truck. But he lingered, and June fretted on how to end this encounter.
“I really like your new apartment, Ms. Sinclair. Your patio looks out on that pond, and your kitchen is great.”
Grandma simpered at Nate. “You should move out here. We’d all appreciate having a young man around the place to help out. I’ve never seen someone lift so many boxes at once, and you didn’t even drop one.”
June wanted to roll her eyes. Nate caught her gaze, and his lips quirked up a little bit more. He was enjoying the flattery.
“Grandma, it’s time to get you back home,” June gently reminded her.
“Of course. Thank you, young man.” Grandma turned to Nate and pulled him down for a hug and kiss on the cheek. His big arms went gingerly around her tiny body, and he patted her back as he assured her it had been his pleasure. She then made her way to June’s car and got into the passenger side.
“Thanks, Nate. We wouldn’t have been through the first load without your help driving and carrying.” June meant it. She’d blocked out several hours for this process since her car would have held only a few boxes on each trip. Now she had time to spare, and she wasn’t quite sure what to do with it.
“It was no problem.” He gave her an aw-shucks grin and took a step her way. She felt caught up in his physical proximity and told herself to stop noticing his body and the slight scent of clean male circling around her. “Your grandma is great.”
Nodding, June tapped her hands together, wondering why she wasn’t saying goodbye. Probably because she didn’t want to. Despite how he’d upset her the night before, she still liked him quite a bit, and being near him sparked something in her that made her feel more alert, attentive to his expressi
ons and movements. He shuffled closer and lowered his head her way after glancing at her car.
“So, can we still get together for a cup of coffee sometime?”
Despite wanting to ask why he’d want to, June swallowed and nodded once. Why should she act like she didn’t want to see him again? She’d looked at her calendar for August that morning and realized there were no spaces with Nate’s name in them anymore. That’s when she’d called him on the pretext of reminding him to send in his audition video. Hearing his voice had pleased her to her bones, and seeing him now was making her regret her prickly reaction to his offhand comment the night before. Would it have really been so awful to have him cook her breakfast?
“Great. When?”
The plan for her day wasn’t immediately available in her brain. “I don’t know. What’s your schedule?”
Nate laughed and half reached out for her, but then drew his hand away. June shuffled closer.
“You think I know where I have to be next?”
She nodded. “I hope so. I think the calendar I made for you expired.”
“Has it?” Nate reached into his back pocket and brought out the folded and dog-eared page she’d made for him days before. He opened it and shook his head as he leaned her way so she could look at it. “All that’s left is today, July thirtieth. I’ve already done the e-mail so it looks like I’m free.”
June lowered her brows. “That schedule was for our project, I didn’t include your personal responsibilities. When do you have to be at work?”
He shrugged.
“Don’t you have to work at your bar?”
“I’d rather have coffee with you.”
His blue eyes met hers and the charming tease in them was hard to resist.
“I don’t want you to get in trouble with your mom.”
“She’s always disappointed with me for something.”