The Secret Ingredient (Love Around the Corner)

by Lynn Rae

  His confidence overrode any illusions of modesty or hesitation she might have mustered. All she wanted was what he gave her, fingers tracing along her inner thighs, nipping kisses on the sensitive skin of her shoulders, the brushing of his stubble-covered cheek against her own as he leaned over and blanketed her with his body.

  As he settled his hips against her buttocks, she reached back to guide him to her.

  “It’s okay, June. I know where you are.” Nate gasped as he pushed inside. He slowly moved and nuzzled the nape of her neck, and she relaxed into immobility, only clenching her hands into the quilt and turning her head to glance back at him. He was so close to her in every way.

  He reached one hand between her belly and the bunched pillow beneath her, sliding his fingers to cup around her sex, that slight pressure more than enough to wind her climax closer.

  “You’re so wonderful.”

  Nate’s groaned praise acted like lightning hitting her body. She shook with every movement he made, shivered when she felt him tense and press even tighter to her. She couldn’t have moved if she’d wanted to. In a sudden rush, her nerves imploded into sparks of pleasure, every muscle contracting as her release blasted through her. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes as she shuddered and lay safe between his warm weight and her soft bed. Nate’s deep moan was barely audible through the rushing in her ears. His arms tightened around her, and he rolled to his side, pulling her along. She struggled to catch her breath, move her legs, or think coherently, but Nate’s gentle squeezes distracted her.

  “You’re still wearing your skirt.”

  June focused her eyes at her waist to find red-and-white fabric twisted and bunched between two big male arms circling her. Despite being firmly tethered to him, something in her heart lightened and lifted away, leaving her with an unexpected warm glow. Just this one time, she was going to welcome the contentment and not anticipate the next trial coming her way.

  Chapter 15

  Fantastic. That was the only credible word Nate could come up with as he relaxed with June in his arms. Everything had been fantastic: the sounds she made, the warm smoothness of her body against his, the way her derrière curved perfectly against him. If he had the motivation, he’d get that skirt off her so there was nothing between them, but for the moment he’d rather lie still and soak in how good everything was.

  She drew in a quick little breath and wriggled a bit in his arms. He relaxed his hold on her, worried he was squeezing her too tight.

  “Don’t let me go,” she whispered, and his heart thudded.

  “I won’t,” he promised her, fear that he’d somehow let her down filling him, the catalog of his mistakes too long to contemplate. As June murmured and pressed her warm body to him, her fingers lacing with his, he relaxed again and closed his eyes. He’d done this right, at least.

  There was a buzzing noise from the floor, and he started. June turned her head and blinked at him. Why did they have to be interrupted now?

  “Mine’s in the living room.”

  Unwilling to move, Nate took advantage of her position and kissed her cheek. She squeezed her fingers against his and pressed her feet to his shins.

  “Get your phone. It’s probably your mother wondering why you’re not back yet.”

  “Do you really want me to tell her what the holdup is?”

  “I dare you,” she squeaked defiantly, and he decided a more thorough kiss was necessary. Sliding over her, he teased his mouth over hers and she melted to him, her hands working their way across his chest as his skin heated everywhere they touched. The phone continued to buzz, and June drew back, her gaze darting toward the sound of the interruption. If he wanted her full attention, he supposed he’d have to answer and hang up as quickly as possible.

  He located his jeans and hauled them up, grabbing his phone from the pocket. He glanced at the display as he fit June back against him. He didn’t recognize the number and puzzled over it for a second before opening the text. As he read the words, his body chilled.

  “Everything okay?” June burrowed in under his arm and settled her head on his chest.

  “It’s a message from the producer at The Knife’s Edge.” Nate reread it again to make sure. Yes, it was the same as the first time.

  With a flurry of limbs, June rose up and peered down at him, her features drawn with worry. “What did they say? Oh, Nate, it’s going to be okay—”

  “Maybe. It looks like I’m going to California.” Nate knew his tone wasn’t as excited as it should be, but the invitation wasn’t quite the validation he’d expected. A little voice whispered he’d rather just stay in bed with June, followed by the echoes of his mother chastising that he wasn’t going to win, so why bother going.

  As June heard him, she smiled, and her eyes brightened with tears. “That’s great.”

  “Then why are you crying?”

  “Because I’m happy for you.”

  Nate dropped the phone on the floor and stared up at her. She was happy for him, so why wasn’t he feeling the same?

  * * * *

  June steeled herself to watch the next installment of The Knife’s Edge that evening. Nate had made it through three rounds of the competition so far, and tonight was the quarterfinals. This evening’s winners would be guaranteed a spot in the big finale the following week. She’d watched every painful minute, alternately beaming with pride at how wonderful he was, and sobbing because he was so far away. But tonight she couldn’t cry or even sniffle since she’d finally relented and joined Gran and her new friends at the Acres for a viewing party in the common room.

  She’d arrived to find over a dozen folks arranged on sofas and chairs surrounding the large console television, with a table holding lemon cookies and a bowl of strawberry punch nearby. Gran escorted her to a seat of honor at the center of the gathering where she was the topic of much discussion and scrutiny. She tried to answer all their questions but was relieved when the familiar theme music and sharp-edged graphics came on.

  The annoyingly tall and lithe hostess appeared and tossed her long, shiny hair over her shoulder as she covered the basics of the show while walking up to the stage. The competition area had three miniature-kitchen setups, and the contestants shared a common pantry with limited quantities, which made for some interesting battles over bins of asparagus and sirloin, not to mention the terrible collision between a large woman and small man scrambling for the last bulb of garlic the night before. There had been gasps from the audience and medics rushed the stage to administer first aid.

  Nate had been quick to gather his ingredients each evening, but equally quick to share with a competitor if asked. June suspected his good manners had helped propel the votes, moving him up in the standings. Then again, the fact that he was the most handsome contestant by far surely wasn’t hurting his chances.

  As soon as the camera panned over Nate sitting among the other chefs in the holding area called the Knife Block, her belly flipped over, and June allowed herself a deep sigh. In the week he’d been gone, she had to admit she’d fallen for him. Lust, love, infatuation, or an incredibly strong case of like, she wasn’t sure which it was and it didn’t matter, because he was on the other side of the continent, and she was in solitary agony. She couldn’t even call or text him since the producers had cut off communications.

  There was a blare of music, the judges appeared and took their seats behind their draped table, and incessant call-in numbers scrolled across the bottom of the screen. The concept was still incomprehensible to her. For some reason, people actually called in to vote for their favorite dishes and these numbers were factored into the results. She’d virtuously called in a vote for Nate each night, even though she wanted him to win and lose in equal measure. The residents at the Acres had cell phones at the ready.

  The first round commenced, and Nate’s name was called. Grandma reached over and patted her hand.

  He took the stage along with a flushed woman who’d made turkey bulgogi the n
ight before and a smallish, dark-haired man she couldn’t remember seeing compete. Each took a position at their respective stations as the crowd clapped and cheered. Nate raised his hand to acknowledge them, and several female screams were audible. June winced. A few of the ladies around her giggled.

  The host smiled and announced the challenge with a graceful gesture, and the chefs roared into action as a voice-over explained the rules of the competition for what seemed like the five hundredth time. Tonight was dessert, and June couldn’t help wondering what was going through Nate’s mind as he grabbed ingredients, utensils, and set to work. She didn’t really pay much attention to anything on the screen other than watching him move and smile.

  “What do you think he’s making?” her grandmother whispered in her ear.

  “I have no idea. He grabbed some dairy and spices I couldn’t see. Maybe a pudding?”

  “Pudding won’t win this. Those judges are snobs of the first order,” Grandma hissed in disapproval. She was still miffed that one of them had critiqued Nate’s earlier effort at risotto with peas as “pedestrian.”

  “We’ll see.” If only he’d had the time to make that sweet-corn ice cream.

  “Sweetie, I’m glad you came over here tonight to watch. Some company will do you good. You’ve been blue for days.”

  There was some truth to that. Grandma was busy fitting in to the social whirl of her new residence; Simon was thankfully still ignoring her. She’d retreated from her school friends over the break as she usually did, which left her with no one to distract her from her sadness over missing Nate.

  “Oh, it’s back on.” Grandma hushed her as the broadcast returned to the show. The camera zoomed in on the host as she stood by Nate’s side while he stirred something in a large stainless-steel bowl.

  “I’m standing with crowd favorite, Nate Garner.” The host paused as some more shrieks from the audience overrode her microphone. “You definitely have a following. What are you making tonight?”

  Nate looked up from his work and the dimple appeared on his cheek. June’s belly flopped. A woman perched on a floral sofa nearby declared Nate was the second cousin of her son-in-law and several people nodded slowly at the news.

  “I’m working on a cardamom-mascarpone cream, and I’ll layer it with some candied macadamias,” Nate answered as he dipped a teaspoon into the mixture and sampled it with a slight frown.

  “Ooh, sounds rich and sweet.” The host cooed and patted Nate’s back, to more squeals from the audience.

  “Look at that hussy, getting her hands all over him,” Grandma grumbled, and June nodded mutely. Why was she torturing herself like this? Nate’s on-camera ease and his appeal to such vocal watchers was surely going to lead to plenty of job offers in California or New York. At the very least, he’d become a celebrity personal chef and make the rounds among the rich and famous.

  “I just hope I can get it cooled in time,” Nate replied as he grabbed a bowl filled with ice and set it under the cream-filled container.

  “Better use plenty of ice. Being near you would melt about anything.” The host made a clumsy double entendre, which the audience loved. Nate grinned and shrugged his shoulders.

  “So tell us, Nate, all the women and probably a few men watching are wondering who you cook for at home.”

  There were assorted “woo-hoo” calls, and the host batted her eyelashes as Nate bent his head over the bowl of cream and stirred it. He glanced up, right at the camera, and smiled that lopsided grin she remembered with a terrible pang. He’d smiled like that at her after they’d made love, and now everyone in America had seen it. Her body heated up at the memory, and she felt tears prickle behind her eyelids.

  “I like to cook for everyone.”

  “But is there someone special?” the hostess prompted him again. Grandma scolded her friends at the Acres to settle down as they fluttered.

  “There is.” Nate glanced at the camera, and her breath left her chest in a rush as her heart thudded. Oh, she missed him so much.

  “Is she watching? Or is it he?”

  A couple of ladies behind her began to ask what the hostess meant by saying he. June scooted out farther on her seat to hear the television better. He’d say something about his mother, or his sister and nieces now, and the audience would fall a little bit more in love with him as June faded into memory.

  “I hope she’s watching. Hi, Jonesy.” Nate’s affectionate use of her nickname almost knocked her off her chair, and she clenched at Grandma’s hand. Nate quirked that sexy smile at the camera like he knew she was staring right at him from a thousand miles away.

  “Who’s Jonesy?” Grandma wrinkled up her forehead and turned from watching the screen to peer at June.

  “Me!” June managed to squeak. Her mouth had gone dry even as her stomach went off the high dive of shock.

  “Hearts are breaking near and far at the news that Nate Garner is taken.” The host pulled a pout with her glossy lips. “Anything you’d like to say to the lucky young woman?”

  Nate stopped stirring the cream, and all traces of his easygoing smile disappeared. “A couple of things, actually. I miss you, and I’ll see you soon,” Nate said quietly, and the host leaned the microphone even closer to him to catch his last words. “I love you.”

  All June could hear was a chorus of approval from the older women surrounding her, and the sweet sound echoed by the audience at the television studio. Her mouth fell open as the words he’d said sank in past her automatic defenses. Nate had just said he loved her. On a basic cable, culinary competition show, in front of a live studio audience. Dear God.

  Heart thudding, June tried to swallow but felt like she was going to choke instead. Grandma clutched at her hand as she watched Nate return to working on his dish as the host ducked away to speak with the small man who was checking on the progress of a sponge cake in the oven.

  “Was that you?” Grandma asked as she shook June’s limp arm.

  “I think so.” June looked away from the screen and stared at her grandmother. “Did he just say that?”

  “He loves someone named Jones? Does that mean he’s fruity?” An older lady dressed in a lavender velour suit shook her head with dismay.

  “Oh, sweetie, you never said anything,” Gran whispered as a huge smile bloomed. “I’m so happy for you.”

  June was too tongue-tied to reply right away. It was difficult to take a deep breath, and all the skin on her body felt warm. The countdown clock on the screen lost at least two minutes before she felt capable of speech. “I don’t understand what he meant.”

  “He loves you. Didn’t you know?”

  June shook her head. The roil of emotions flooding through her became too much to take, and she buried her face in her hands, embarrassed to be experiencing this moment in front of so many strangers.

  “Come on out in the hallway.” At her grandmother’s urging, June rose and excused herself from the others, walking on unsteady feet toward the doorway and making her way to the deserted hall to lean against a convenient wall. Grandma was at her side and peering in her face.

  “What did he mean?” June’s confusion bumped around in her head.

  Grandma shook her head. “The man said it clear enough. He loves you and misses you. Wants to see you. Why don’t you fly out there tomorrow? Or tonight? Catch one of those—what do you call it?—red-eye flights.”

  “Grandma, I can’t just chuck everything and go to California.”

  “Why not? He did.”

  “It’s expensive. You need me here, and I don’t know what’s going on with Simon—”

  “Hush about me; I’m snug as a bug. And stop considering Simon; he’s never considered you in his life. You have plenty of time to earn more money.”

  June sputtered, her thoughts unorganized but constantly rewinding to the simple statement that Nate had made. Maybe it was just a slip of the tongue, an automatic endearment brought on by the pressure of the competition and the glare of the lights.
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  “Come on, buck up.” The older woman joggled her elbow, and June shook her head to clear it. “I’m guessing this is the first either of you have said it. You young people letting videos and screens get between you. Be that as it may, the only question is how do you feel about him?”

  * * * *

  When Nate heard his name called as the eliminated chef, he felt mostly relief. It was easy to smile at the audience gasping with shock, wave goodbye to the judge’s panel, especially the judge who’d never liked him, and easy to shake the host’s hand in farewell before allowing himself to be escorted off the stage by a gesturing assistant director. He was tired, and the idea of getting back to the hotel to rest gave him enough energy to keep walking. He’d been coasting on adrenaline and novelty for the past week and a half, but he was crashing now, just as his losing dish, a terrible fusion of Cajun seasoning, raisins, and chicken liver had knocked him out of contention.

  “Come right this way; they’ll want to do some exit interviews in a few minutes,” a slender young woman, holding a clipboard and wearing a stressed expression along with her headset, explained as she led him backstage past lights and wires and wooden braces holding up the set walls.

  Nodding and following along, he wasn’t really paying much attention until the assistant director reached out and halted him with an upraised hand. They were in the corridor filled with dressing rooms, and for a moment, he couldn’t remember which one was reserved for the contestants. Maybe he wasn’t allowed in that one anymore since he was out. That was all right with him, it had a vaguely moldy odor he’d grown to dislike.

  “Hang on here while I go check.” The slim woman scurried off down the hallway, and Nate let out a sigh and propped his shoulders against the wall. Done. He’d collect his appearance fee, and it might be enough to renovate the kitchen at his mom’s bar. If she really wanted him to take on the family business, she was going to have to respect him enough to make him an equal partner in it. If she didn’t, he’d spend his money on a food truck instead. He didn’t need his mother’s support to do something with his life. He’d managed to get to Burbank all on his own. No, not on his own. June had gotten him here.