South Main and Gentry

by A. D. Ellis

  Damn, Mitch, that was a flirt. It had to be.

  Barry and Travis joined us in the dining room. I’d focused so intensely on Tanner that I didn’t pay any attention to what unfolded in the kitchen. I’d heard some soft voices, but I didn’t try to decipher the words.

  Barry proudly announced, “It’s a unanimous decision, and we now have an official Willow Springs Chili King.”

  My best friend smiled at me, and I thought it meant that I was the winner. I graciously folded my hands in my lap to await the grand announcement. Glancing at Tanner, I saw that he did look a little worried. It would likely feel somewhat humiliating for him to stroll into town trash-talking his way forward about his cute little coffee house and have his gourmet ass handed to him by the local hash slinger.

  My confident grin melted into an ashen gaze of disbelief. Barry announced, “And the winner is...Tanner!” Both Barry and Travis pointed at the young gun and slapped him on the shoulders.

  Tanner tried to sound gracious and humble, but I knew better. He said, “Aw, man, but you know, this guy made a great pot of chili, too. Thank you for the honor, but I’d say it was too close to call.”

  It felt like a dagger to the heart when Barry shook his head. “No, it was clear. You are the winner. I’d still eat Mitch’s chili, but yeah, yours is better.”

  Tanner stood and offered his hand for a shake. He said, “It was a good match, and I think we should both be proud of what we did.”

  I knew that I shouldn’t look like an ungrateful fool, and it was the time to be a gentleman about it, but I felt like a loser with decades of quality cooking negated in one crushing blow. I didn’t expect my gut to tie itself in knots over it. I’d told myself the culinary school training was something I needed to be wary of, and it wasn’t really Tanner. It was what instructors taught him.

  Stumbling to my feet, I offered my hand in return. I couldn’t look Tanner in the eye, but we did shake. His grip was firm, and I couldn’t stop myself from realizing I liked the feel of those wiry, slim fingers in my big paw. He held on a little too long before letting go.

  Barry wanted to talk about Tanner’s kitchen secrets, and I wasn’t ready to hear it. Too many stupid emotions were swirling in my head. It was time to get away and focus on something more substantial and productive. I dug out the reasonable excuse. “Hey, men, I’d love to stand around and shoot the shit, but I’ve got a kitchen to check on. I’m sure Dan can handle it, but he’s still a little green around the edges.”

  Barry complained. “He’s better than that, and we all know it. I thought you were going to come right there at the table the other day when you talked about that corned beef hash. Stick around. Maybe you can learn a thing or two from Tanner here. I bet he’ll be generous with a few of his secrets.”

  That was what I didn’t need to hear. I didn’t need anybody to teach me anything, least of all, Tanner. He watched my exchange with Barry in silence, and I couldn’t tell whether he enjoyed it or felt a little sympathy for my position. It didn’t matter. I wasn’t in the mood to stick around and find out.

  I spun on my heel, “Later, guys. Keep what I cooked or throw it out. Your choice. I’ll see you all around town.”

  As I opened the door to leave, I heard Travis behind me in his soft drawl. “Nah, Mitch is no sore loser. Somethin’ else is going on in that head of his.”

  6

  Tanner

  After I showed Barry and Travis a few knife techniques and divulged a couple of my secret ingredients, we each enjoyed a beer on the front porch. As the sun started to slide low in the sky, Barry stood and stretched.

  “A full belly of amazing chili and a beer is all a man can ask for.” Barry rubbed his stomach. “I’m going to head out. Travis, you want a ride?”

  Travis took the last swig of his beer before standing to join Barry. “Chili was amazing, Tanner. Not sure where I’ll ever use those knife skills, but I’m pretty impressed with them. I may have to go home and chop an onion just for the hell of it.”

  I laughed. “Make sure you’ve got good knives. If not, you’ll be mixing onions and fingertips in your recipe. Losing blood is never a good thing when cooking.”

  “Excellent culinary advice, as usual,” Barry joked.

  Travis and Barry said their goodbyes, and they left me with a mess in the kitchen.

  And a bit of a hollow pit in my stomach.

  I’d won the cook-off. That should have come as no surprise. It would have pissed me off if I’d lost. In fact, I likely would have been a salty bitch if Mitch’s chili had won. But, honestly, I wouldn’t have accepted it as a fairly-judged loss; I would have chalked it up to Mitch being the golden hometown boy. There was no way Mitch was better than me in the kitchen.

  So why did the win feel like a bit of a letdown?

  I drained the last of my beer before plodding down the porch steps while I tried to sort out my thoughts.

  The evening was comfortable, and I took a deep breath of the sweet Willow Springs air. My mind wandered as my feet did the same. I recalled the good-natured banter that Mitch and I shared. Could it even be called flirting?

  My groin stirred when I remembered Mitch asking me if I was ready to go down. I imagined dropping to my knees and doing delightfully dirty things to him. He’d throw his head back, and his hands would grip my shoulders...

  My suggestion of Mitch having something to teach me wasn’t about the kitchen, and I felt like I could hold my own in the bedroom. My words flustered Mitch. I saw that.

  Was the flirting the reason the win wasn’t foremost in my mind? After wandering without a destination in mind, I found myself at South Main. I didn’t enter through the front door. Instead, I mosied around back like any proper stalker and stole glances through the window.

  Mitch was at the stove, likely cooking some of the last meals of the evening. He had his tight ass encased in bluejeans, broad shoulders and pecs stretching a plain t-shirt, and an apron tied around his waist. Mitch’s body wasn’t tiny and trim, but he’d aged very well and maintained an impressive physique. It was one that a man could grab hold of and take for a wild ride.

  Mitch was entirely in his element in the diner’s little kitchen. Music was playing from somewhere, and he tapped a toe and rocked his hips as he glided around the room preparing the plates. His methods were unrefined and raw, but he had passion. And as much as I hated to admit it, South Main wouldn’t be in business if Mitch wasn’t a fantastic cook. Dan gave him a boost, but Mitch had years of running the kitchen almost singlehanded.

  For a brief moment, I caught a glimpse of that handsome, chiseled face. God, he was gorgeous. Was that why I wasn’t relishing my earlier victory?

  Get it together, Gentry.

  I graduated early from high school and sailed through business school and culinary training. I was used to being the best. Amazing and beautiful men were among my competitors in both culinary school and business. I would not let myself hold back so someone else could win by being mediocre.

  At that exact moment, the back door swung open, and I knew Mitch caught me.

  Fuck.

  “Holy shit!” Mitch gasped and clutched his chest. “What the fuck, Tanner? You almost gave me a damn heart attack.”

  “Sorry,” I mumbled.

  “What the hell are you doing skulking at the back door? Are you waiting to hunt through the garbage for bones and scraps? I’ve got a little load here for you.”

  It was time to scrape together some sort of excuse. “Oh, um, I wasn’t sure whether Barry or Travis was out front. Or worse, Jenny.” I stumbled over my words. “Just came by to tell you, um, I’ll wash up and get your materials back to you in a day or so. If you need them sooner, you’re welcome to come over and get them.”

  Mitch narrowed his eyes for a split second as if he almost didn’t believe me. But then he tossed the scraps in the compost bucket and grumbled. “Damn, man, I’m sorry you got left with the mess. I, uh, wanted to get back here to check on Dan and didn’t e
ven think about the cleanup.”

  “No worries, I’ll take care of it. I just didn’t want you to think I was taking advantage of you and snagging your supplies.”

  Mitch laughed. “Right. Because Tanner Gentry would need any of my supplies when he has a professional-grade kitchen right at his fingertips.”

  I wasn’t entirely sure how to respond to that without sounding like a jackass. I shrugged. “I’ll swing by tomorrow or the day after.”

  Mitch nodded.

  I turned to leave but took a split second to look back at Mitch. “Your chili was great, honestly.”

  Mitch snorted and waved me off before stepping back into the diner.

  I skittered home like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar—smooth, Gentry. Peeping in back diner windows isn’t exactly top businessman in the community type behavior.

  “Tanner Gentry, to what do I owe the honor? Because I know you’re not one to make a booty call after all this time.” Dusty Baker, an old acquaintance from business school, cooed into the phone.

  “Bitch, I’m not one to make a booty call after any amount of time,” I quipped.

  Dusty laughed. “Good to hear your voice. What can I do for you?”

  “You dated an older guy there for a while, right?” I skipped any idle chit chat and dove right in. I had a question that needed an answer.

  “Babe, I did more than date him. I married him.”

  “For real? Shit, I guess I lost track. I didn’t realize that. Congratulations, that’s amazing.” Marriage wasn’t at the top of my To-Do list, but it was on the list.

  “Yeah, we’ve been married for about five years.” Dusty paused. “Why?”

  I shook my head and gathered my thoughts. “Oh, um, well—what are the pros and cons of dating an older guy? I’m asking for a friend.”

  Dusty laughed. “Got a silver fox you’re trying to tame? They can seriously knock you for a loop.”

  I mumbled something incoherent and prayed Dusty would put me out of my misery.

  Dusty continued. “I can’t speak for every May/December relationship, but I think Albert and I have more pros than cons. He’s established and comfortable with himself. He’s not out clubbing and cruising and trying to fuck every guy he sees, like some of the younger guys. It’s a sense of grounding. Albert helps me relax, and he reminds me of what’s truly important. He teaches me so much—about business, art, love, and life in general.”

  “And the cons?”

  “Honestly, age is the primary thing. It’s scary to think about life without him. Based on the numbers, he’s likely to pass before me, and it hurts like hell to think about being left alone.” Dusty’s voice grew quiet. He sighed. “I’ll have to watch him get older and slow down and maybe get sick. That part sucks. Still, I love him so much, and the good far outweighs the bad.”

  “Wow, that’s amazing. Thank you for sharing.”

  “So, I’m guessing you didn’t call to catch up,” Dusty teased.

  “Sorry, man. I’ll look you up next time I’m in the city.” Hanging up so quickly was the asshole thing to do, but I only wanted to talk to Dusty for one thing. My mind wasn’t in the right mood for an extended conversation. I said, “I, um, gotta go.”

  I spent the next hour mulling over Dusty’s words and thinking about Mitch while cleaning the kitchen. I’d never dated a guy more than a few years older than me. While I didn’t believe Mitch had much to teach me other than maybe a few small-town secrets or how to sling hash, the thought of being with him romantically or sexually definitely piqued my interest.

  But would Mitch and I ever be able to put aside the tension and competition?

  I went to bed, hoping to sleep off the questions and thoughts and musing.

  By the time the morning arrived, I’d barely slept two hours all night. I was sleepy, cranky, and frustrated. And Mitch Aiken was at the center of it all.

  Yanking on a pair of shorts and a tank, I drank some water and did a few stretches before popping in earbuds and cranking up the music on my phone. I needed to run off some of my frustrations and clear my head before I could even think about heading to the cafe.

  About half a mile from the house, I remembered how much I hated running, but the burn in my chest and muscles helped alleviate my irritation. By the time I reached one mile, Mitch Aiken was still on my mind, but I wasn’t quite as grumpy.

  I stopped to stroll along one of the smaller springs in town. Breathing in deeply, I appreciated what a gorgeous place I now called home. It felt good to know Chicago’s glamour and chaos of Chicago was still an option if I needed it, but in Willow Springs, I found peace and tranquility.

  So why did my head and heart feel less-than-peaceful?

  Mitch Aiken.

  I leaned against a small bench and stretched, bending down to pick up a rock. My body and head thrummed with a strange potion of anticipation, irritation, anxiety, and—if I were honest—a good dose of sexual frustration. The rock soared through the air and landed in the spring with a satisfying plop.

  “What did that poor rock do to you?” A voice drawled from behind me.

  I spun around quickly enough to give myself whiplash. Travis was there, leaning against his truck. Proof of how deep in my head I’d been, I hadn’t even heard him pull up.

  I ran a hand through my hair and glanced to the left and right while I tried to gather my thoughts before approaching Travis.

  “Just in a shit mood, I guess.”

  “After a night of winning the Great Willow Springs Chili Cook-Off? What’s got you so pissy? Is there something going on in the faraway city?” Travis lowered the tailgate and took a seat.

  I joined him on the truck bed. “Have you ever dated an older guy?”

  Travis threw his head back and let loose with a big whoop of thigh-slapping laughter.

  “Are you done?” I huffed.

  Travis snorted and continued to cackle.

  “Seriously?” I rolled my eyes.

  “Sorry,” Travis gasped while wiping away tears. “See, I told you this was going to happen.”

  I snipped, “I have no clue what you’re talking about. I simply asked a question.”

  Travis clucked. “So I’m supposed to believe you’re crabby and asking about dating an older guy, but you’re not thinking about your attraction to a certain hometown diner owner?”

  “Just answer the damn question, Trav.”

  Travis’s whole face softened when he saw my pained expression. “Yeah, the only person I ever had anything serious with was about twenty years older than me. He’s also the only person who ever called me Trav—before you.”

  “Shit—man, I’m sorry.”

  “No, it’s okay. I liked you calling me Trav. Made me think of Doug.” Travis shifted on the truck bed.

  “What happened between you two?” I had a bad feeling the story would be a sad one.

  “Doug was a bartender. I met him on my twenty-first birthday. I was out with a few friends to get drinks. I’ve never been one for large groups or huge parties, so some simple drinks sounded good.” Travis’s expression was melancholy as he reminisced. “The two friends I was with ended up taking a couple of girls home. I nursed a few beers, feeling sorry for myself. Doug came over to talk when he started his shift, found out it was my birthday, and fixed me a Long Island Iced Tea when he learned I’d never had one.”

  Lost in his memories, Travis laughed softly. “Damn, the man mixed the strongest Long Island ever. I don’t think he realized I was on my own at the bar, abandoned by my asshole friends. I ended up super sick—probably shouldn’t have had the Long Island after the beers. Doug found me later, out the back door, on my hands and knees barfing my guts up.”

  “And it was love from that moment on?” I bumped his shoulder.

  “For me, yes. And I think for Doug too, but I think he never really thought I could love him because he was so much older. He couldn’t believe I fell for him hook, line, and sinker from that first night.”
/>   “So you guys dated? For real?” I didn’t want to be rude and ask if they were just fuck buddies.

  “We were together for two years. At first, I think he just humored me. He knew I’d never really dated, and I didn’t have a ton of friends.” Travis removed his cap and ran a hand through his hair. “Eventually, after almost two years, our casual weekly friendship-type dates turned into romantic ones, and then I practically lived with him. Then the ass got a wild idea that I should date around. He wanted me to make sure I knew what I was getting with an older guy.”

  “Did you do it?”

  “I went on one date. It was horrible. I missed Doug. But I’d agreed to at least a week of dating, although Doug wanted to make it a month.” Travis stared at the spring, lost in thought. “He had a heart attack and died that week. I lost my heart and soul when he died, all because he couldn’t believe my love for him was genuine.”

  “Travis, I’m so sorry,” I whispered and reached out a hand to his shoulder.

  “Dating an older guy wasn’t hard for me.”

  “Even though he died so long before you?” I didn’t want to think about loving and losing someone.

  “Tanner, a significant other can die at any time, no matter their age.” Travis pressed his lips together. “Doug taught me so much. He was an amazing person. Happy with his life, settled, not out partying. He was so gentle and patient in bed.” Travis blushed. “But he also had many years of sexual experience. He’d tried things I’d never thought about, and he was eager to share them with me.”

  “The negatives?”

  “His perpetual doubt of my love. He worried about his health. I worried that he’d get tired of my immaturity.” Travis shrugged. “But overall, those things were nothing compared to the positives of the relationship.”

  I nodded. So much of what Travis said was similar to what Dusty shared with me.

  Travis elbowed me. “Since I just spilled my guts to you, how about you be honest with me.”