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Rue offers him a shit-eating grin before she winks at me. This winking thing must run in the family or something. “So what can I get you guys?”
Drew shakes his head. “Get us a little bit of everything please.”
His sister walks away with a cheeky, “Yes, Chef!”
“I apologize for ordering for you, Greer, I wasn’t trying to be patronizing, I promise. This food truck only has three items on the menu,” he explains.
I shrug, more focused on the way his arm is almost touching mine. He sat in the chair closest to me rather than on the opposite side. Right now, he could serve me anything and I probably wouldn’t even notice, and that means something because Ialwaysnotice food.
“I trust you. I’ve never had one bite of food that wasn’t delicious since I got to Coral Cove.” I meet his eyes as my gaze drifts down to his perfect, soft-looking lips. “So, is Rue your only sibling?”
Drew chuckles, running a hand through his hair which only results in making it look even sexier now that it’s all mussed. “No. Rue is sixteen, and she’s the baby of the family. I have two brothers, one older and one younger, and one older sister who’s married with kids and lives in San Diego right now. Her husband’s in the navy.”
“Wow, that’s a big family!” I gush. “I couldn’t imagine having that many siblings.” Especially if they were all like Chelsea, I think with a shudder.
“It has its ups and downs for sure. Family gatherings are fun and always noisy, but my parents had to work really hard to raise us on the island. My dad has always worked two, even three jobs. That’s why having my own restaurant is so important. My eldest siblings had to leave to earn a living without working paycheck to paycheck for the tourists or on a fishing boat. I’d like to give Rue the opportunity to stay on Coral Cove and work for me. I want to put the new restaurant on the map. Get my own Michelin star…”
His tone is dreamy, and his gaze drifts away in the distance, fixed on something ahead.
For a long moment, neither of us says anything, and I realize that one reason why I’m drawn to Drew and his friends is that I admire them. I love their determination and the honest, hard work they put into everything they do. I see the same fire in my daddy’s eyes when he tells me about how he started the family company when he was in his early twenties and all he had were his dreams and the drive to make them into reality.
They keep saying that we’re from different worlds, and maybe I have no idea of the struggles they have to face on a daily basis, but they are wrong when they think that my daddy wouldn’t understand them or think any less of them just because they are still trying to make it.
Of course I also like them because they are hot. Just one look at Drew’s broad shoulders and his ripped chest that the old shirt can’t hide causes my heart to pick up its pace.
I know that Brady and Matt like me—I couldn’t think differently after what happened the other night—and I hope that Drew likes me too, because I’m drawn to him just as much.
“Your dreams will come true,” I say, feeling it in my gut. “You and the others are prepared to do everything it takes to make it, and I know you will.” If I don’t screw it all up by fucking up the race, but I keep that scary thought to myself. “So do you own this food truck?”
Drew shakes his dark head. “No. It belongs to that fancy seafood restaurant on Main Street. We passed it on our way here. The fishing boat our dad works on supplies some of the seafood that’s served here. I know the owner and helped Rue get a summer job.”
As if summoned by her brother’s words, Rue arrives with our food. “Here you go, guys. Lunch is served. I hope you enjoy it.” She leaves our table after dropping two baskets and one tray laden with food.
“Oh my God!” I squeal as I look at what’s for lunch. “What—what?”
Now, I’m adventurous with my food and I love to try new things, but one of the baskets contains a heap of tiny fish. The entire thing is breaded to perfection and fried, and when I say fish, I mean the whole animal. I can see the creatures’ tiny black eyes staring at me as they aren’t entirely covered by the golden brown breadcrumbs.
A flurry of activity comes from the second basket Rue deposited on our table. I know the black, spiky half globes piled in the basket are sea urchins, and I’ve had them before at a sushi restaurant, but never in their own shells and they weren’t still moving their needles.
The tray is filled with oysters.
“Greer, are you alright?” Drew asks with a mixture of amusement and concern on his handsome features.
“I—uhm, I don’t know if I can eat this. I mean, the fish is staring at me and… Oh!” One of the sea urchins manages to literally walk off the plate, and I cover my mouth with my hands as my stomach feels a little unsettled. “They are still alive, I really can’t.”
Drew takes the runner sea urchin and places it back into the basket before taking my hand in his. “They aren’t alive, Greer. They were cut in half after they were collected earlier this morning. They are still moving because their simple nervous system hasn’t registered that they’ve been cut.”
Right. As if this makes it any easier to eat something that just made a run for its life. “I can’t eat something that’s still moving.”
Drew’s smile widens. “Oh come on, of course you can. We aren’t eating the animal itself. We’re eating just that orange stuff inside it, which is their eggs. I love to cook with sea urchins. I make an amazing pasta sauce with it, but I can guarantee you that the best way to taste them is just with a squeeze of lemon and on some freshly baked sourdough bread.” He demonstrates by squeezing a wedge of lemon inside one of the black globes before using a piece of bread to scoop out the creamy orange stuff inside it. “Try it,” he says, putting the bread right in front of my mouth. “I promise it’s delicious.”
Note to self, if you don’t want to be offered questionable food that’s still moving, don’t go out to lunch with a chef. I eventually open my mouth, because I’ve had sea urchins before and because I don’t want to disappoint Drew. Of course he’s right.
“Hmm,” I say after chewing and swallowing the bread. “You’re right. I’ve had them before, but they must not have been this fresh. These don’t taste fishy at all, they taste fresh and salty, like the ocean.”
Drew beams at me, offering me another piece of bread he just prepared while I was eating. “I’m glad you like it.”
“I do,” I say, accepting the bread. “I just didn’t know how they looked when you’re served the whole… animal.”
