Page 6 of The True-Blue Romance

“Oh, that’s evil, invoking Trevor’s name.” I have a soft spot for that kid. He loves Beau so much, it’s impossible to not try to bend the world his way, which is probably only an inch of how Beau feels. “Does Benji have any experience in a kitchen?”

Beau nods. “He can cook anything. He’s cooked for us. He listens well too. I wouldn’t be asking this of you if I didn’t think it was a good fit.”

“Fine.” I toss the dirty kitchen rag I’d been holding into the sink. “Have him show up next Tuesday for an introduction to the truck and our menu.”

Beau slaps the counter with a wide grin. “You’re the best.”

“We both know Lee is the best,” I argue easily, because that’s how it’s always been.

Beau’s smile slips a little, and I get that feeling again that I’ve been getting for months, that they’re both hiding something very serious from me. But I’m not a chaser and I know they’ll tell me with time. That’s the danger of joining their friendship late in the game. Sure, we’ve all been friends for longer than they were friends without me, but sometimes I still feel a little off-footed amongst them. They have a built-in-the-sandbox love that never dies, and I’m just teenage rebellion that convinced them to keep me.

“So, wanna go fishin’ tomorrow?”

I lean against the counter and grin. “Hell yeah. The three of us?”

Beau rubs his beard in that way he does when he’s unsure of something. “I’ll ask Lee.”

“All right, what’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Beau says quickly, with all the gusto of a lying man.

“Hmmmmm.”

Beau slaps the counter again, grins widely, and disappears back toward the front office. I finish cleaning up the truck, then tug off my bandana and run my fingers through my sweaty, messy curls. I need a shower so badly. I love the food truck, but I’ll be ecstatic to be cooking in a full-sized kitchen again.

I lock up and head toward the staff parking lot. I instinctively look around for Lee’s truck but don’t see it. It’s a crapshoot if he works on a Sunday or not. He’s not really needed for events since he’s always handled more of the behind-the-scenes farm work. That’s Lee. He’d rather be known behind the scenes for running the place than getting any attention. At least I’ll see him tomorrow for a long morning of fishing on the river.

I’m awake before sunup. When we go fishing, Beau wants to be there while the fish are still sleeping so that they bite for breakfast. Dressed in faded blue jeans and an even more faded T-shirt, I stand on the front porch of my bungalow downtown waiting for Beau’s truck to rumble to the edge of my driveway. Sure enough, only minutes later he pulls up with the low beams of his lights landing right on me. I squint against the lights and bite back a grin at the sight of Lee in the passenger seat.

I toss my fishing rod and tackle box into the bed of the truck, then climb into the back seat. We usually take Beau’s work truck when we go fishing since it has better towing capabilities than his old Ford, and the boat isn’t exactly a light tow.

“Morning, boys.”

Lee grumbles an unintelligible version of a greeting, while Beau basically sings “good morning” back. Lee reaches back to hand me a thermos and I take it with a grateful smile. I run my finger over the ding on the side where I’ve dropped it so many times I don’t know how it’s still holding it together. The thermos has a sticker on it from the national park we took a trip to in our twenties that’s somehow still hanging on as well.

“Thank you, Lee,” I say very seriously, putting as much affection in my voice as possible.

He flusters like usual but turns his head away to look out the window. “Welcome.”

Something is definitely going on with him. I reach forward and squeeze his shoulder, and he tenses, which is unusual for him. I made it a habit to touch him since we were teens and I learned he wasn’t ever touched with much affection. I come from a touchy-feely family and it always felt so natural to show my love to my friends that way. I pull away, not wanting to make him uncomfortable for whatever reason.

The ride to the river is short, and it’s quiet when we arrive. It takes a few minutes to back the boat into the water, and I watch under the early morning darkness as Lee navigates the boat, floating it to the dock. I leave parking the truck to Beau and head over to the dock to join Lee in the boat. I jump down and aim a grin Lee’s way, but he just shakes his head and turns away. He’s dressed like he usually does for fishing, in jeans and a T-shirt, with a baseball cap that’s seen way better days. I need to buy him a new one for his birthday this year.

“What’s up, Drew?” I say sweetly, nudging his elbow with mine.

He looks toward me, and that’s when I notice it for the first time. His nose is swollen and bruised, like he got uppercut right in the nose. I gasp and reach out to touch his cheek, feeling some mix between fear and anger roiling up in me. I’m going to kill whoever did this to him, even if it was one of those naughty goats.

“Drew,” I whisper angrily.

Lee jerks away and steels his jaw, which tells me everything I need to know. It was his drunk asshole father. Whether on purpose or accident, I don’t care. I could kill that man. I could’ve killed him at sixteen when Lee showed up at school with a bruised jaw. I could’ve killed him when Lee admitted to sleeping outside because his father locked him out of the house. I could’ve killed that man a million times over by now had Lee been willing.

“It’s not a big deal,” Lee says far too quickly for my taste. “Not in front of Beau. All right?”

“Fine. But you’ll tell me what happened later? Okay?”

“Fine,” Lee angrily mumbles, then pastes on a smile when Beau jumps into the boat. “Let’s catch some fish. I want Joey to fry ’em up and make some hush puppies. He’s gotta perfect Cindy’s recipe or we’ll be hurtin’ in thirty years.”

Beau rolls his eyes. “Mama says his hush puppies are a copycat to hers.”