Page 5 of The Fete of Summer (Tales of Crumbington #1)

“You never mentioned a cousin. How old is this kid if you’re bringing him to a pub?”

“A thirty-five-year-old child called Jaymes.” Polly spelt out the name for Nathan, adding a roll of her eyes. “Always getting me into trouble when we were young.”

“Why do I not find that hard to believe? Must be a family trait. What’s brought him here?”

“Something about a meeting in our neck of the woods. Too tedious to warrant my attention. Enough about him. Let me tell you about the drama that’s been going on at school.”

Polly began a long-winded tale about two teachers at her school who had been seen out and about, even though one was married.

Nathan had barely been paying attention when, over her shoulder, a man strolled into the bar, someone not local—he could count Crumbington’s attractive men on one hand.

Ruggedly good-looking, he gave off an outdoorsy vibe with his tanned face, windswept hair and solid build.

Even from where they sat, Nathan could tell he was put together nicely beneath his brown leather pilot’s jacket and tight-fitting jeans, which were a little grubby in places.

His dirty blond mane could also use a bit of tidying up, although the bed hair suited him.

When his gaze swung around to take in Nathan, his eyes not only remained on him, but the handsome face creased into a broad smile, causing Nathan’s pulse to quicken and his cheeks to warm.

Polly, noticing she had lost Nathan’s attention, twisted around in her seat just in time for the stranger to stride forward and haul her off the stool into a bear hug.

“Poll dancer. How have you been?”

“Put me down this instant, you ape.” Polly pushed herself out of his grasp and readjusted her clothes. Her teacher’s tone only made the man grin wider. “I’m not seven anymore, and you’re not eleven. Although, clearly, you’re happy to continue acting like a child.”

“Gonna buy me a drink, or what?” said the man, Jaymes, ignoring the reprimand. “Seeing as you kept me waiting in the cold.”

“You were supposed to be here over two hours ago.”

“Yeah, well. Snarl up on the M25.”

“For two hours. Rubbish. And if so, why didn’t you text?”

“Shall I get some drinks in?” asked Nathan, hopping off his barstool and stepping away from the table. “While you two fight in private.”

“Hold your horses.” Jaymes reached out and placed his hand on Nathan’s forearm. Even through his thick shirt, Nathan’s skin felt the strength of the firm touch. “Shouldn’t I be officially introduced to my little cousin’s boyfriend? Especially if he’s going to be nice enough to buy me a drink.”

“I’m not—” stuttered Nathan, horrified.

“We’re not—” said Polly at the same time, looking equally mortified.

A beat later, they turned to look at each other and burst into laughter.

“We’re friends from schooldays,” said Nathan.

“And he’s gay,” added Polly.

“Polly!” said Nathan, glaring at her.

Rather than being shocked, Jaymes burst into laughter. His laugh suited his personality. Loud, masculine, unsubtle, and more than a little infectious.

“Yeah, anyway,” began Nathan. “What would you like to—”

“Outed in public by your best friend. Priceless. I’ll have a Guinness, uh—?”

“Nathan. Nathan Fresher. Polly’s former friend. Nice to meet you, Jaymes with a Y.”

“Oh, so she’s already talked about me, has she? As I was about to say, I’ll have a pint of Guinness, Nate, mate.”

Brilliant. Bloody brilliant . Nobody ever abbreviated Nathan’s name, not even his father when he’d been alive.

The only person who had ever been allowed to call him Nate had been Cliff—Clifton.

After having a brief chitchat with the landlady and ordering, Nathan returned to the table with a tray of drinks.

“Thank goodness you’re back,” said Polly. “Babysit the child for me while I go for a pee. Maybe he can give you some advice on your naked football calendar.”

“Your what?” asked Jaymes, brightening playfully as a slyly grinning Polly excused herself.

Nathan scowled at Polly’s departing back. “Our chairperson on the summer fête committee wants to up the ante this year. Wants some of the better-looking players from our local team to do a naked photoshoot for a calendar. All the proceeds will go to charity. My job is to get the players on board.”

After downing a good gulp of his drink, Jaymes lowered the glass from his mouth and appeared to consider this, nodding thoughtfully.

“Are you on the team?”

“I’m the captain.”

“You’ll be getting your kit off, then.”

“Not necessarily.” Nathan hadn’t thought that far ahead. He’d assumed he wouldn’t. Actually, he hadn’t even considered the notion, but he was definitely not keen on the idea. He might keep himself fit but wasn’t obsessive about his looks.

“Wait just one minute.” Jaymes positioned his glass down on a coaster before giving Nathan his full attention. “You’re the committee member who volunteered to get your team out of their kit, yes? And you’re also the team captain. Right so far?”

“I—yes.”

“Then you have to be photographed. How can you not? A captain needs to lead by example. Otherwise, everyone will think you’re a hypocrite.”

The mere thought of stripping down for the camera made Nathan nauseous, but Jaymes’ reasoning made perfect sense. Of course the team would expect him to participate.

“It’s a moot point, anyway. None of the guys are going to agree to getting naked in front of a camera.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I play football with them. Because I know them.”

“Hang on. I bet you all strip down in the changing rooms without a second thought. You might be surprised,” said Jaymes calmly, knocking back another slug of Guinness.

“Maybe the guys will be a little hesitant at first, but I bet their other halves will back them all the way. Would your partner have a problem with people seeing you in the buff?”

“I don’t have a partner. But if I did, I’m sure he’d have issues. Wouldn’t you?”

“I’d strip naked at the drop of a bar of soap for a good cause. This boy has nothing to be ashamed about.”

Nathan appraised Jaymes’ body again as the man placed his empty glass back on the table.

“Yeah, well. Maybe you’re in better shape than most.”

“Are you hitting on me?” asked Jaymes, a grin curling one side of his mouth.

“What? No!” said Nathan, feeling his face reddening as he scanned the bar. “Where the hell is Polly?”

He craned his neck to see if she was on her way back.

Even though the Friday night pub was packed, she usually stood out in her shocking pink woolly poncho and was nowhere to be seen.

Something about Jaymes made him slightly uncomfortable and self-conscious.

Maybe his candour and raw masculinity, maybe his proximity.

Jaymes was the kind of person you either loved or hated. Right now, the jury was out.

“This has to be my last,” said Nathan, tossing back the rest of his lager.

“What? It’s barely eight on a Friday night.”

“I have an early start tomorrow.”

“Doing what? Don’t you teachers get weekends off anymore?”

“I’m not a teacher. I’m a baker. I run the bakery on the high street.”

“Seriously?” said Jaymes, chuckling in a way that irritated Nathan.

“Yes, I’m a baker by profession. Fresher and Son. Family Baker. Why are you smirking?”

“I’m not. I just never—” Whatever he had been about to say was stalled by a slowly spreading grin.

Only for a second, though. “Tell me, is there a lot of dough in what you do? I only ask because I hear bakers make a shitload of bread. And does that explain why you’re reluctant to drop your pants and show the world your hot buns? ”

Jaymes followed up by laughing aloud at his own joke. And just like that, the jury returned its verdict. Judge Polly had been right all along. Guilty as charged. Cousin Jaymes was a total and utter prick.

“You truly are a heathen, aren’t you?”

“More Buddhist than pagan. But seriously, Nate—”

“Nay- than . It’s Nathan . Two syllables, if you can manage that.”

“Come on, Nathan. Was that your life’s ambition? To bake loaves of bread for a living? Like a Crumbington Paul Hollywood?”

Jaymes had no idea how much his joke had hit a nerve.

“It’s a family business. I helped my father all through school and took over when he died.

Although it’s also a front for my other job as a professional hitman.

Someone who quietly takes care of people others don’t particularly like.

Such as irritating relatives with puerile senses of humour.

” Most annoying of all, Jaymes found this diatribe hilarious.

From the corner of his eye, Nathan spotted pink Polly returning and breathed a sigh of relief.

“What do you do for a living that’s brought you to our little shithole of a village?

No, let me guess. You’re on long-term unemployment and claiming social security, which is why you’re couch surfing? ”

“I work for the Forestry Commission. I’ll be working over in Mosswold for the next few months before scooting over to Southeast Asia for a stint,” said Jaymes, wiping the corners of his eyes and bringing his laughter under control.

“I’m an environmental specialist. PhD in ecology, forestry and land management at Durham Uni.

So tell me, Nate, which baking university did you attend? ”

“Have a nice life, Jim.”

“I’m only kidding, Nate. Na than .”

Ignoring the raucous laughter behind him, Nathan strolled across to the bar and thumped down his empty glass before catching Polly on his way out. She knew him well enough to tell that he was rattled.

“What has he done?”

“Your cousin’s an asshole of the highest order.”

“Tell me something I don’t know. Will I see you on Sunday? After the game?”

“Are you bringing the Neanderthal?”

“I imagine he’d have found like-minded apes to hang with by then,” she replied, smiling at their shared joke.

“In Mosswold Forest? Doubtful, but we can always hope,” said Nathan, scowling.

“He’s actually harmless,” said Polly, sighing before kissing his cheek and looking over Nathan’s shoulder. “Bit of an acquired taste, I grant you. But his heart’s in the right place.”

“Shame it’s his arse he talks out of.”

“I promise I’ll be there Sunday. You?”

“After the game. Around twelve-thirty. See you, Polly.”

“‘Night, Nate.”

Nathan had been about to kiss her back on the cheek but froze, took a step back and eyed her dangerously.

“Sorry, darling,” she said, grinning. “Couldn’t resist. See you Sunday, Nathan darling.”