South Main and Gentry

by A. D. Ellis

  Mitch—hot damn. He wore a pair of dark wash jeans that hugged his ass like he painted them on his body. A black button-up stretched over his broad chest and shoulders. His arms—damn—those arms. Once again, I remembered that he looked like he could bench press me or break me in two—or both.

  Mitch leaned over and whispered to me, “You look amazing.”

  My gaze shot over to Luke, but he was engrossed in his phone as we waited.

  “Um, thanks. You too,” I muttered. Had Mitch caught me checking him out?

  “Did you have to cancel plans for this thing?” asked Mitch.

  I rolled my eyes. “Not even close. I don’t miss the crazy, busy chaos of the city, but my social calendar sure took a hit when I moved here.”

  “We’ll have to work on that.”

  “Huh?”

  I waited for an answer, but Cassandra approached and clipped mics on us before Mitch could elaborate. “Okay, we’ll talk a bit about each business and what you have to offer. Feel free to converse amongst yourselves like you’re having an everyday conversation. We’ll edit the video down to a decent little clip and put it on all of our social media. In a small town like Willow Springs, everyone has heard of you, but sometimes it’s good to remind them what you have to offer them as a business owner.”

  We spent the next twenty minutes chatting comfortably. We spoke about Luke’s grocery and how he strived to always provide his customers with whatever items they might need. Mitch’s diner and his soul-serving, heartwarming comfort food was next. Finally, we discussed my cafe and how it brought a little taste of sophistication and the city to our small town.

  Cassandra ended our snippet by asking us what we thought of each other’s establishments.

  Luke answered first. “South Main has been a cornerstone of Willow Springs for as long as I can remember. Townsfolk know they can rely on Mitch to fill them with tried-and-true down-home cooking. He even pulls in people from out of town when they get a craving for comfort food. And Gentry’s Java has given our little Willow Springs a taste of the big city without having to drive for over an hour and fight the masses. My store benefits from counting both of these men as loyal customers. I love the challenge of providing them with the items they need to bring out the best in their restaurants.”

  I smiled and did my best to look heartwarmingly friendly. “Thanks, Luke. Benson’s is a huge help in keeping Gentry’s Java up and running. I don’t have to worry about traveling out of town or placing pricey orders with outside vendors. I know Luke can get me anything I need.” I glanced at Mitch, and my breath caught in my throat when I realized he’d focused his gaze on me. “And South Main is the heart-felt, reliable, comfort food we all have come to love and trust. I appreciate Mitch welcoming me with open arms and making me feel a part of Willow Springs from the beginning.”

  Mitch smiled at my words. Just as he began to speak, his hand snaked from his lap under the table to my leg. Holy shit. Mitch squeezed.

  “Thanks, Tanner.” He nodded. “Luke’s an old friend, and we found our rhythm in our business relationship long ago. I rely on Benson’s for my business and personal grocery needs.” Mitch squeezed my leg right above my knee once more, and I struggled to avoid squirming on camera. “Tanner came to town in a whirlwind of coffees, teas, specialty sandwiches, soups, and to-die-for desserts. He’s given Willow Springs the sophisticated, unique, specialty items so many longed for but couldn’t find here. Thanks to Gentry’s Java, it’s like our little town has the best of both worlds.”

  I sucked in a long, shaky breath and forced myself not to pout when Mitch moved his hand from my leg. Maybe he’d just been nervous. Or perhaps he thought I was anxious, and he wanted to comfort me. Unclipping my mic, I watched Mitch say goodbye to Luke as Cassandra congratulated and thanked us all for coming in.

  Luke slapped me on the back and headed out the door. Cassandra excused herself to finish up in her office. That left Mitch and me behind—and alone.

  “Thanks for what you said,” I mumbled when I spoke and tried not to think about Mitch’s hot hand on my leg. “I know you haven’t been thrilled to have me here.”

  Mitch huffed. “It’s not so much about not being excited to have you here.”

  I raised my brows and waited for Mitch to elaborate.

  “I felt challenged, like I was never going to be as good as you.” Mitch shrugged. “My cooking isn’t classically trained. My supplies and appliances aren’t top of the line. I felt threatened.”

  I whispered, “I’m sorry. So, you don’t hate me?” Never in the past did I worry about what other people thought of me. But now, standing in a tiny little corner office in the Willow Springs Chamber of Commerce, I waited with bated breath for Mitch’s answer.

  “Of course, I don’t hate you,” assured Mitch. He stepped forward and pulled me into a gentle, friendly hug. “I’m sorry if I ever made you feel that way.”

  The full hug wasn’t necessary. It could have been a quick bro hug, and that would have been that. But it wasn’t. Mitch’s arms remained wrapped around me, and I let my arms fold tight around Mitch. His embrace was warm and comforting, and I lost myself in his physical strength. I couldn’t remember how long it had been since someone held me so tight? I melted into the hug.

  Mitch smelled so damn good. It was simple like soap, fresh and clean, nothing heavy or cloying, covering up his natural scent. I breathed deeply—and shuddered. Shit, I did not mean to tremble in the man’s arms. That was awkward.

  Mitch didn’t make it evident that he noticed. He spread his hands on my back and held me for a few seconds longer. When Mitch stepped back, he smiled and winked. “I’m serious about getting that social calendar of yours filled up.”

  I cocked my head to the right and prayed that my hard-on wasn’t super evident behind my zipper.

  Mitch suggested, “You, Travis, Barry, me—we’ll all get together sometime. Maybe cards or a movie night.”

  My heart sank slightly. “Oh, yeah, all four of us. That would be great—lots of fun.”

  In a somber tone, Mitch asked another question. “Are you and Travis, you know, a thing?”

  I scrunched up my face. “Are you and Barry a thing?”

  “Hell, no.”

  “Well, there’s your answer.” I blurted out, “Why did you touch my leg during the interview?”

  “I’m sorry. That was inappropriate. It was just nice hearing you say good things about me, and I wanted to touch you.” Mitch winced. “Wow, that sounds even worse. I usually don’t go around reaching out and groping people who are nice to me.”

  “It’s okay. I wasn’t offended. I wasn’t exactly pushing you away.” I shrugged.

  “Okay. So, um, I was thinking…” Mitch’s voice trailed off into mumbled words.

  With the worst timing possible, the door opened, and Cassandra returned. “Oh, I’m sorry, I thought the two of you were gone.”

  “Talking shop,” Mitch stated. “Better get going.” He waved to Cassandra and slapped me on the shoulder. “See you around.”

  Mitch was out the door and out of sight before I had a chance to catch up with him.

  My chest and belly were full of all kinds of swirly jitters about Mitch. He’d had his hand on my leg. There was a soft, warm hug that touched me deeply and hinted at so much more. And his cut off comment, “So, um, I was thinking…” I took a deep breath.

  Holy hell.

  It looked like maybe there was something brewing between Mitch and me. It was much more than some friendly business competition.

  9

  Mitch

  I watched Dan and shook my head. “It looks like you’re one of those guys on a late-night infomercial. You’re going to sell your gadget by turning everything in the kitchen into a pile of spirals. Then you’ll tell them that it will impress all of their friends and maybe even their enemies.”

  Dan shrugged and continued to spin the zucchini around, turning it into a bowl full of ribbons. “I think these are grea
t. I’ve got one at home. I use it for apples, zucchini, and sweet potatoes. Your customers will love these zoodles on the menu. They can come and eat two meals a day here instead of one because the one with these will be healthy. See, I’m already turning it into a marketing pitch.”

  Frowning, I said, “I’m not on a doctor’s payroll. You know why I’m doing this. With Tanner going great guns with his coffee shop, I thought it was time to step things up and let our customers know we don’t live in the past. This is the big step forward—diner food without the guilt. Damn, it hurts even to say those words.”

  “So, you’re trying to compete head to head?”

  I leaned back against the counter. “I’m not saying that either. I’m only saying that Tanner might have a tiny smidgen of a point about the need to move the local dining experience forward. Mark my words—tiny smidgen.”

  Dan’s spinning zucchini squash was mesmerizing. He said, “Instead of standing there, why don’t you tackle some of those avocados? I don’t want too many done ahead of time since they go bad quickly, but a head start would be great when the doors open. I think they’ll sell immediately.”

  I’d eaten avocados in guacamole before, but I’d never bought one myself in the grocery store. Staring down at the bumpy green exterior, I thought about how to tackle turning it into edible food. It was a little embarrassing to admit having shunned avocados with so many years of cooking experience under my belt. Picking up a paring knife, I considered peeling it in a circle like an apple.

  Dan reached out. “Hey, what’s up with you? What are you doing?”

  I rolled the avocado over in my hand and looked at him with an eyebrow raised. “I’m peeling it as you requested.”

  He said, “Oh—I get it. You’ve never worked with an avocado before. Do you want me to show you how to do it? This will be a step into the 21st century, too.”

  “You don’t have to look like I came from another planet while you’re doing it. We’re not in California, and these don’t grow anywhere less than a thousand miles away. All of the foodie types might want to consider whether they should eat avocados if they’re serious about being into only locally grown fruits and vegetables. Which is this, by the way—fruit?—or vegetable?”

  “Here, let me show you.” Dan took the avocado and knife from my hands.

  I had to admit that it all looked slick when Dan took care of the bumpy green thing. I jumped when he slammed the blade of his chef’s knife into the pit, but it was the perfect method. I wished that peach pits were so easy.

  As Dan mashed the flesh into a greenish-yellow mass, I asked, “And who came up with the idea of slathering that on toast for breakfast? Whatever happened to butter and jam? Is there anything better than homemade strawberry jam?”

  “Maybe not better tasting, but I can think of about a dozen things to put on toast that are healthier than fat topped with sugar.”

  I glanced at my watch as Dan piled the zucchini noodles into a plastic bin and carried them to the back cooler. I called, “It’s only a few minutes until opening. Do you have that green toast stuff on the specials board?”

  “Of course, I do. And the zoodles for lunch will be there, too. It’s all under control, Boss. We’re going to be the happening joint in town. We’re jumping on board the modern cuisine train.”

  We’d only been open for a few minutes, and I was behind the scenes sorting invoices for our latest supply deliveries when I heard an all-too-familiar voice from the dining room, “Avocados at South Main? What is this world coming to?”

  I couldn’t determine from the tone of Jenny’s voice whether she was speaking to the dining room with praise or scorn. I had to find out to dampen the noise if it were the latter.

  As I emerged from the kitchen, Jenny spotted me. She raised an arm and pointed. “There’s the genius. It’s about time you brought Willow Springs into the present.” Jenny clapped her hands, and a few other customers joined her applause.

  I shrugged. “Is this all because of avocados?”

  “Well, yes.” Jenny nodded and smoothed her gaudy floral-print dress.

  I stepped up by Jenny’s side, and, fortunately, my presence encouraged her to tone the voice down a notch or two. She dipped her glasses down her nose briefly and smiled. “I was talking to my sister Angie on the phone last night. She was out in San Diego last week. There’s a daughter out there. Sweet Mandy is a child from her first marriage. He was an absolute louse—”

  I didn’t want to irritate the loudest mouth in town by cutting her off, but I had a full day’s work ahead. Trying to steer Jenny back to the topic of avocados, I said, “Let’s save your family’s history for another time. Did she have avocados in San Diego? I’d think it would be hard to avoid them there.”

  “Avocado toast, yes, Sir—like it says there on the menu. She said to sprinkle it with some of that coarse salt, and it’s wonderful.”

  “Well, it’s your lucky day, Jenny. I’ll have Dan whip you up a plate.” I pulled a chair out for her and quickly retrieved a menu from near the cash register.

  That’s when the second-biggest mouth in town decided to show up. He was running about five minutes late, and it was rare for him to deviate from his usual schedule.

  Stopping at the specials board, Barry shook his head. In a soft voice, he said, “Oh, no, no, no. We’re in trouble now.”

  I’d successfully headed off a speculative rumor train that’d been ready to roll from Jenny’s mouth. Now I needed to find out what Barry was tut-tutting as he read about avocados and zoodles.

  With the sweetest smile I could muster, I walked up to my buddy and asked, “Is something bothering you this morning?”

  Barry leaned toward my shoulder and whispered, “Holy shit, Mitch, I don’t think it’s possible to be more blatant.”

  “Get over here and sit at your table by the window. Then you can tell me what the hell you’re talking about.” I passed him a menu. “Do you want your regular coffee?”

  “Yeah, sounds good. I had a rough night last night and couldn’t sleep for some reason. Now, I’m blaming it on you and Tanner. I think the little hearts were floating in the Willow Springs air last night. Cupid must have swept into town, and he was looking for the latest targets for his arrows.”

  I frowned. “Hold that thought right there. I’ll be back with your coffee, and then you can tell me more. I’m ready for you, Barry. I’ve already talked to Jenny. I can handle anything.”

  As I slipped behind the counter to retrieve Barry’s perfect latte, formerly the best in town before Tanner showed up, I glanced through the order window at Dan. He grinned back at me.

  “Hey, Boss. That’s the way to start the morning—Ms. Jenkins and then your buddy. Glad it’s not me.”

  I headed toward Barry’s table and grabbed myself a quick glass of diet cola on the way. As I handed over the coffee and seated myself, I asked, “So what’s this nonsense about me being blatant? Not that it’s a particularly new experience, but I’m clueless on what you’re talking about.”

  Barry traced an index finger back and forth across the table. “So this is what it’s like downtown this morning. I parked in my usual spot and walked past Tanner’s place on the way. You know I’m still a devoted South Main guy for breakfast—so I walked right past.”

  I sighed. “Yeah, you’re the one who’s so loyal that he gets peeled off by the newcomer for lunch at least half the week.”

  “Just sharing the wealth. It’s important to keep our businesses healthy.”

  “So, anyway—continue.” I waved my hand in a go on gesture.

  Barry smirked. “Tanner’s hawking grilled cheese and tomato soup for lunch today. It doesn’t even say it’s something fluffed up and fancy with brie or blue cheese or something. It’s just that comfort food thing that you used to rule. And then, when I get here, you’re serving avocados—damn, Mitch, it’s like the two of you are passing love notes across the classroom in seventh grade.”

  I started to respond i
mmediately, and then I bit my tongue. I agreed that Tanner’s presence sparked my move, but I didn’t know if I would go along with saying that I was trying to impress him, or, at worst, trying to seduce him. I had to think about that one.

  Barry added, “I know what you really should do if you want to blow that metaphorical kiss in Tanner’s direction.”

  “I know I’m going to hate myself in the morning for asking, but what’s that?”

  “Take him out to the woods to hunt for mushrooms—the morels. It’s that season again, and you can’t get something around here that’s much more impressive to the city slickers than our mushrooms. Plus, there’s another advantage. It’s the woods, Mitch. No one can see or hear, and anything can happen.”

  10

  Tanner

  “Tomato soup and grilled cheese, huh?” Travis smirked and handed the menu back. “I’ll have that. It brings back a few cold winter day memories from childhood.”

  I shrugged as I poured his ice water. “Just trying some different dishes, seeing what people like. Thought it would be good to find out what the town likes best, maybe rotate the favorites. Never know, I may even name certain specialties after important townsfolk.”

  “What are the options? Can I choose? Travis Tiramisu? Travis’s Tuesday Tacos? Or my last name—Kent’s Key Lime Pie.” Travis rubbed his belly. “I do love a good piece of key lime pie.”

  “Who says I’d be naming anything after you?” I nudged his shoulder. “I said important townsfolk.” Travis was fun to tease.

  “Ouch.” Travis held a hand to his chest. “You wound me.” He narrowed his eyes. “Seriously, though. You came to town with all your fancy Chicago foods. Why the change to grilled cheese?”

  I pursed my lips and pointed my pen in Travis’s general direction. “There’s no ulterior motive. I want to see what the town likes best. If a down-home comfort food item brings in a crowd, I can add it to the menu from time to time. You might be forgetting that you’re talking to a business professional in addition to a kick-ass cook. I’ve got all sorts of talents and plans.”