White Meat: A BWWM Romance

by Tyla Walker

  “It’s okay to feel like that,” I say. “You know, I spent a lot of time being angry at my dad. But my Ma helped me with that. I watched her working so hard and saw how good she was. That helped me remember to be good.”

  “Are you distracting my cook, mister?” I look up to see Cindy, hands on hips, pretending anger. But she’s beaming at the picture of us. She’s excited from sprinting all over the dining room, and my mind flies back to our steamy kiss in the walk-in earlier.

  “Hank let me flip the meat!” Nate says as he runs towards Cindy. She rubs his head and Nate even gives her a bit of a hug.

  “We have a new chef in town,” Cindy laughs. “Everything alright?” She asks me, and I can tell she’s apologizing for leaving Nate alone with me for so long.

  “Everything’s great. Apparently, Uncle James says barbecue is all about ‘doing nothing’. Nate and I were getting in some practice.”

  “I guess that means I don’t have to pay you for the past 20 minutes?” Cindy asks.

  “Pay Nate. He did all the work.”

  It’s nice to see Nate and Cindy smile. It feels right, and I can’t help smiling myself.

  Fourteen

  Cindy

  I watch Hank hoist my smiling boy from the shining steel of the expo table and give his hair a playful tousle.

  “Alright sous chef Nate, report for duty,” Hank commands with the mock gruffness of a drill sergeant. Nate snaps to attention and throws his little hand up in salute.

  “Reporting for duty Mr. Hank… er, Chef!”

  “Your orders are to gather intel from Ernesto. Somebody has been fiddlin’ with my special sauce recipe and I need you to get to the bottom of it.” Hank lowers his tone to a conspiratorial whisper, “If you can bring me back his wallet, I’ll split the winnings with you. Now scoot while I talk to your mom for a sec.” Hank gives him a wink, and pats him playfully on the backside.

  “Sir, yes Sir! You can count on me!” Nate snaps his salute and tears off through the kitchen.

  “You have a couple of kids somewhere in podunk Kansas that you’re hiding from me,” I ask in a half-joking rejoinder. “I haven’t seen him smile this much in years. You’re so good with him.”

  “He’s a good kid, Boss. We’re just having a little man on man bonding.”

  “How ‘bout a little man on woman bonding,” I say quietly, placing my hand on Hanks beautifully sculpted chest. What am I doing!?

  “I don’t know Boss,” he says throwing a concerned look over his shoulder. “He seems a little young to be dating.”

  I snort, and hit him with the bar towel I keep tucked in my back jeans pocket. I’m suddenly tingly , and painfully aware that the whole kitchen staff is watching us flirt. “I should… uh… I should get back to… I should check on my tables.”

  “Yeah, I should turn these pork shoulders,” Hank says with a hint of sheepishness. I start into the dining room before some feeling deep in my gut turns me back.

  “Hey. We do this family dinner once a month at Uncle James’. It’s usually me, Nate and sometimes Ashley tags along. It’s nothing fancy or anything, but we close down the restaurant for the night and it’s tradition. You’ve probably got plans or whatever, but I just… I mean I know you have a lot on your plate with your own… with your Ma and everything… I just…”

  “I’d love to,” Hank says, cutting me off with a devastating smile.

  “Wednesday,” I blush. “I’ll text you the address.”

  “Would you take a breath or two Cin? Jesus girl, like a rat in a coffee can,” Uncle James harps from his La-Z-Boy in the living room.

  He lives in sweet little ranch-style on a few acres just outside of city limits. It isn’t much but its homey. Every Wednesday since my aunt passed we’ve shut down the restaurant, lit a fire in the backyard pit, cracked open a few Shiner Bocks, and reminisced. Nate makes s’mores and chases the raccoons off the fence with a stick. It’s always been my favorite night of the week. But this particular Wednesday, I’m feeling more than a little anxious.

  “I just want things to go well,” I yell from the kitchen. Homey it may be, but clean it certainly isn’t. With Uncle James spending every waking hour at the restaurant, and no one else around to tend to things, the dust and dishes have piled up. I came over with Nate around noon to tidy up and work off some nervous energy.

  “Your holdin’ a little torch for the new guy huh,” he ribs.

  “ I just want things to look nice is all,” I say blowing a curly strand from my face. “You know it wouldn’t kill you drag your creaky bones outta that chair and give me a hand.”

  “It might!”

  Just then the doorbell rings. Oh God! He’s early and I haven’t put on a face! “Nate honey, can you get that,” I holler, shutting off the sink and trying my best to not sweat through my shirt.

  ‘Whats shakin’ little man?”

  “It’s just Aunt Ashley,” Nate yells from the entry.

  “Just Aunt Ashley? That’s the greeting I get? I was gonna sneak you a sip of Shiner tonight, but not no more, bucko. No way, no how,” she says shaking her head.

  “But…”

  “Go get me a cold one from the cooler and I’ll think about reconsidering. Git!” Ashley says pushing his shoulders towards the patio door.

  “Ashley thank God you’re here,” I say hurrying in from the kitchen.

  “Now that’s more like it!” she retorts with the catch phrase cadence of a wacky sitcom neighbor. Instead of canned laughter however, she gets my dishtowel slapped into her hands and pushed into the kitchen. “What’s in her bonnet,” Ashley asks as I steer her past Uncle James.

  “New guy is comin’ to dinner, and she’s all in a tizzy,” James pokes.

  “Hunk is coming to dinner,” Ashley squeals.

  “His name is Hunk… HANK! And I am not in a tizzy!” I yell back to Uncle James. “I just need to change tops and put on a lip before he shows up. Can you finish the last few dishes and wipe down the counters? Pretty please?”

  “Oh all right, but you should really be focusing on the bedroom instead of kitchen,” she giggles and bounds out of my reach before I can smack her.

  Twenty minutes later I’m standing in the bathroom teasing all of the volume I can out of my tight curls, when I remember my fake engagement ring. It’s still there on my middle finger. Thankfully, I hadn’t had the occasion to put on my ring finger.

  Andrew never reappeared at the restaurant after drunkenly peeling out of the back alley three nights ago. He’s probably holed up somewhere with that vapid bimbo licking his wounds, although a small part of me wishes he had wrapped his truck around a tree.

  Might as well just see what it looks like, I think to myself in the mirror. It’d be a shame to let the wrong finger have all the fun.

  I slip it delicately onto my ring finger and extend my hand for a better look. It’s just painted brass and a fake diamond that I picked up at the Burnet Thrift, but for a moment I allow myself to dream.

  I imagine the weight of a real ring that Hank painstakingly selected before proposing to me in some simple, achingly romantic gesture. I imagine what it feels like to be happy again, and held by a man that I think I’m falling for… hard.

  The doorbell rings and snap back to reality. I check my teeth for lipstick, take a deep breath, and cut off the bathroom light, totally forgetting about the ring.

  Hours later we’re all sitting sated and content around the back patio table. Nate is inspecting his bowl for any stray crumbs of the blueberry cobbler that Hank made. He can bake too! Uncle James and Ashley are puffing cigars and one-upping each other’s punchlines, and I rest my head on Hank's shoulder, watching the fireflies dance in the late summer sky. Everything is perfect.

  “Cin, reach behind you and grab me a fresh one would you,” Ashley asks, blowing a wobbly smoke ring into the warm evening. As I reach over the table with a cold beer, the string lights strung above glint off the fake rock on my ring finger. Everybody freezes. A
shley, in one swift move, grabs the beer with one hand, and with the other yanks me across the table to inspect the ring with a gasp.

  “WHAT IS THIS!?”

  Nate sets his bowl down confused. Uncle James sits up and stubs out his cigar. I look back at Hank red with embarrassment. Time is suspended for a moment, and then Hank begins to rumble with laughter.

  “Well I didn’t expect to see you wearing it to the party,” he says chuckling. “Don’t worry! It’s not real!” he exclaims, noticing the looks of surprise and confusion surrounding him.

  “Nate baby, go grab Mommy some paper towel will you? Aunt Ashley knocked over my tea,” I say to my son. I can see the concern on his face. “Oh, don’t worry, sweetie. It’s just a joke for the adults. I’ll explain it all later. I promise.” Nate nods and scampers off. I wait until he’s out of earshot before continuing.

  “Andrew came by the restaurant the other night while I was closing up. He was drunk and belligerent and looking for trouble. Luckily, Hank was nice enough to swing back by and check to see if my new car battery was working, and busted up what could have been a bad situation.”

  “I was trying to avoid a manslaughter on my record, but the only thing I could come up with at the moment was to tell him Cindy and I were engaged,” Hank continues.

  “It was certainly a surprise to me, but it did the trick,” I say smiling at the beautiful man next to me.

  “Well, that and the fact that you were taking swings at him with a Louisville Slugger!” Hank grinned.

  “Anyway, I thought it sounded like a good enough plan in the meantime to keep Andrew at arm’s length, while I figure out what to do about this mess. I grabbed a ring from the thrift to make it look legit if he came around causing trouble again.”

  “That worthless shit,” Uncle James hissed.

  “Can I count on you two to keep up the game until I figure all this out? I’m honestly a little scared, especially with Nate in the middle of all this. It makes me feel better to have this,” I say twisting the ring in the light. “Even if it is just pretend.” I glance at Hank.

  “Are you KIDDING?!” Ashley cackles. “I LOVE sneaking around back alleys and intrigue and all that! I can’t wait to see how this plays out.”

  “Anything you need Cindy. We got your back… always,” Uncle James says placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. “But if that drunken jack-ass sets foot in my restaurant again, there’s gonna be trouble. I’m gonna go check on Nate,” he says standing.

  Hank gives my thigh a gentle squeeze and begins to collect the plates.

  “I’ll join you, sir, if you don’t mind the company. I can get a head start on these dishes.”

  Uncle James nods and the two men head indoors, leaving Ashley and I on the porch alone. I gaze at Hank’s broad back and take a nip from my Jim Beam.

  “You ok?” Ashley asks.

  “Yeah,” I say, and mean it. “Aside from all the Andrew bullshit, I haven’t felt this good in a long time.”

  “I like this one, Cin. I mean, he’s doing dishes with your son right now. He made COBBLER!” she says comically wide-eyed.

  “Yeah. I like this one too,” I say and pick up Ashley’s cigar.

  Fifteen

  Hank

  I lay in bed after the alarm goes off and just stare up at the ceiling. There’s a big part of me that doesn’t want to break this warm feeling that is washing over me. I can’t help thinking that somehow I’ve hit the lottery. And, I didn’t even know I was playing.

  I am one lucky son of a bitch.

  My mind drifts back to the dinner we had at Cindy’s last night and just how right it all felt. I haven’t known what it was like to be a part of a family like that since I was a kid. Of course, that was back before my dad realized I had a mind of my own. And, before he made the dinner table our personal battlefield.

  I close my eyes and think about Cindy at her dinner party. I keep remembering how she would give me that look every time the mention of the fake engagement would come up the rest of the night. It was subtle, but her eyes said it all. It was like we were school kids, and we were enjoying how bad we could be.

  Now, in bed, my mind lingers on her beautiful smile and her sweet lips. While I enjoy that picture in my mind, my hand moves down to cup my growing bulge. I take the liberty of fantasizing about how nice it would feel if those luscious lips met my throbbing member. “Oh, sweet Jesus.” Now, she is enveloping me in her warm mouth and I am floating.

  Fuck, what am I doing? This feels good. I could stay here and daydream all day, but I need to get to work. And, I need to deal with the real Cindy.

  I jump out of bed and head for the bathroom for a cold shower. It’s time to get back to the present. There is still enough time to check on Ma and make it to work.

  “How was the dinner?” Ma says to me when I walk into her kitchen. I tell her all about it but spare some of the details about Cindy and our little secret. She seems happy for me but I sense a little bit of jealousy. She’s finally got me back in town, and she doesn’t want to lose me again.

  When I get to work, the place is kind of sleepy. There are no customers yet, and everyone is kinda going through the motions; lost in their own little world. I see Ashley filling up sugar dispensers and I ask her where Cindy is.

  “Out back, having a smoke,” and she jerks her head towards the door. “You should go check on her,” she says, and she gives me that sinful smirk. As if to say, ‘checking on her is the least of your responsibilities.’ I thank her, without taking the bait.

  Cindy is sitting on the back steps, smoking and staring into space. I sit down next to her and she slowly turns to me and smiles. She turns back away and we sit there in silence. It feels good to be comfortable enough not to have to speak. Finally, I break the silence.

  “How’s about I take you out dancing tonight?” I say, as I give her a little shoulder bump. “You can let Nate stay at your uncle’s again.” She looks at me warily. “Come on, you need a night out. And besides, I owe you for inviting me to dinner last night.” She ponders her next move.

  “All right, cowboy, you’re on,” she says, as she flicks away her cigarette butt. “Wear your most comfortable boots, because you’re gonna have to keep up with me out on that dance floor.”

  “That sounds like a challenge,” I say, as I stand up and offer her my hand. She takes my hand and I pull her up to me. “Do you think because I grew up in Kansas that I don’t know how to dance?’ She stares in my eyes and considers how to respond.

  “Let’s get back to work, new guy,” she finally says. “Pick me up at 8 o’clock. And don’t keep me waiting.” I follow her back into the restaurant, trying to keep the shit-eating grin off of my face, as I walk past Ashley. The rest of the day we keep out of each other’s way.

  I pull up to her place right at 8 o’clock because I don’t want to start the evening off on the wrong foot. She opens the door before I can knock and tells me to relax while she finishes getting ready. “So much for not keeping her waiting.” I wander around the living room looking at her books and records, trying to get a better idea of who she is. I need any edge I can get to keep up with this woman.

  “Let’s go,” she says, as she catches me peering at her bookshelf. I turn around and gawk. She is standing there with one hand on her hip wearing knee high boots and the tightest jean shorts, cut off so high that the pockets are showing. It’s also the first time I’ve seen her with this much makeup. Needless to say, she is stunning. And hot as hell.

  We pull into the parking lot of The Mudslide and it is already full even for a Thursday night. It’s really the only dance hall saloon in town . I feel a little queasy when I realize that it’s one of those places where everyone probably went to school together, and there are dozens of little clicks all over the room.

  As we walk in and look for a spot at the bar, every head turns to check us out. Cindy says hi to everyone she knows which is most of the people in the bar. They are not used to seeing her out,
especially on a weeknight. And, they are curious about who this new guy is that she has in tow.

  “Let’s do some shots of whiskey,” Cindy says as we find a tight spot at the end of the bar. “I don’t get out much anymore, and I want to have some fun.” I order the whiskey, and check out how many people are still watching us.

  After the third round of shots, we are both getting a little silly. Cindy is telling me embarrassing stories about some of the people in the room, as we do our best not to be too obvious about it. The stories get more and more raunchy and at one point Cindy falls into my chest, giggling hysterically.

  “Let’s dance before I get too drunk,” she says, and takes me by the hand. There is a line dance in progress and she guides me to the back of the crowd. It’s awesome to be dancing with the hottest girl in the room. And, I’m feeling the jealous looks from some of the local yokels.

  You had your chances, dudes. You had four years and she wasn’t interested. So don’t blame me.

  I think about this as we head back to the bar to catch our breath and order another round of drinks. She is even more beautiful, with her face all energized and her eyes twinkling from the little lift the bourbon has given us.

  “I’m a little out of shape,” she says, as she shakes her hair out. “And, how come you aren’t even breathing heavy, mister,” she asks, as she pushes me playfully in the chest.

  “Oh, I’ve got a few more gears that you haven’t even seen yet.” She smiles at that, and curls a finger in my belt loop.

  “You better watch that those gears don’t start slipping, buster,” she says, as she tightens her grip and pulls me closer. “ You don’t want to have to be popping them back into gear all the time. You know?”

  This just makes me chuckle, as I pull her in to me with one hand on each hip. We just stand there swaying a bit from the drinks, as the rest of the room seems to disappear.