Epilogue
TIM
I POP THE LAST OF the banana pudding cups into the fridge and check the time. Six-oh-five. Okay, the guys will be starting to arrive in just over an hour.
“We can do this. It’s just like every other game night on the roof. You’ve cooked for them a bunch of times, tonight is the same,” I try to tell myself. But it isn’t exactly the same. Since Lion scored me Big Bertie, yep, we’re keeping the name the late Mr. Shannon gave the old smoker, it just didn’t seem right changing it. Well, since then, it’s been full steam ahead on the food truck. I’ve been learning how to use him, tweaking my recipes, trying to get them just right in such a beast of a smoker meant a lot of failed attempts. No, not exactly failed, but not perfect, either.
I finally have it figured out now, along with a collection of potential side dishes we could serve. My possible menu is far too much for a food truck, so in order to narrow down what we do serve when we have the soft opening the first week after Banana Ball season ends, we need honest feedback, and who better to be brutally honest with me than our best friends?
“I picked up the cheese, but are you sure we need more? The table up there is pretty full already,” Lion asks, walking through the door to my loft.
“The more the better. The point of tonight is for everyone to taste a bit of everything and tell us what they like and what sucks.”
“Nothing you make sucks.”
“Not even the black cherry sauce I made yesterday?” I ask, raising a brow. He puts the bag on the benchtop.
“Okay, that didn’t work on the beef, but it was really good drizzled over the ice cream later, right?”
“I still can’t believe you thought to do that.”
“It’s cherry and ice cream. What’s not to love?”
“It also had balsamic vinegar and red pepper in it.”
He shrugs and starts pulling out the small brown-paper-wrapped cheeses. “It worked.”
Lion really was the driving force on this whole thing. Sure, it started out as my dream, but if I had never met him, would I ever have had the confidence to actually do it? I don’t know. He was so excited to help me with everything from day one, he just wholeheartedly believed it would be real and now it almost is.
We prepped all the food for tonight’s tasting yesterday, and got up super early at about four, to start smoking, before taking turns keeping an eye on it while also running back here to make the sides.
“I thought we had already decided on our top four mac and cheese recipes for dinner tonight,” Lion says, pulling out the last triangle block and placing it next to the six others on the counter.
“There are just so many variations of cheeses, how do we know there isn’t a better version if we don’t try them?”
“I guess I can’t argue with that. Do you want me to start grating the hard ones into bowls?”
“Yes, please. Just remember to keep the labels with them so we know what is what.”
He opens one of the packages, and he scrunches up his nose in the most adorable way.
“I don’t think we’ll forget what this one is, woah. Hopefully, the smell goes away when it’s melted.”
“Actually, I think it gets stronger,” I laugh, and he gags a little, then wraps the block back up.
“I don’t think we can do this one.”
“Pop it back in the bag. We can’t have you gagging when everyone is trying to eat.”
“But you love when I gag,” he jokes, and I toss a cherry tomato at him, which he catches with ease and pops in his mouth.
“Back to work.”
“Yes, boss.”
As much as hearing him call me that at any other time would have me dragging him into the bedroom, we have people arriving soon. We moved the lounges along the wall of the rooftop, and then we brought up extra tables and chairs, and when I say we brought up, I mean Lion and his friends, Beau and Levi. They will be coming tonight, too, along with Mouse, Mary Beth, Stuart, yes, he totally made friends with the guy who was an ass to him at the game, and for the first time ever, I’m finally meeting his brother, Buck.
The last few months have been so hectic with figuring out the smoker, finding us a truck and working on it in between playing Banana Ball all over the USA. Looking back, I really don’t know how we got here so fast. Actually, yes I do.
We got here because when Lion believes in something, or someone, anything is possible. Having him there in the crowd at almost every game, cheering for me, and at the hotel every night cuddling into my side and sleeping against my chest, has made the last few months the best in my life.
When I’m with Lion, the world makes sense. That’s what being with him does to you. It makes you feel like you can fly, you can hit that home run, reach that star, achieve any dream, because he believes you can. His hope and trust and devotion is so pure, and it makes me love him even more.
Not that I’ve told him that yet.
That I love him.
I want to, and almost did when he got me the smoker, and then again when he pulled up in the alleyway like Richard Gere in Pretty Woman, beeping the horn on the food truck he found and then blasting that classical music from the movie until I poked my head out the window. He even did the whole climb the fire escape thing. It was totally adorable. I should have said it then. It would have been perfect. But I chickened out, and since then, I’ve been trying to find the right time to say it. I can’t exactly just blurt out, “Hey, I love you,” while he’s gagging on stinky cheese, now can I?
“You could use it in the mashed potatoes,” he says, sliding the cheese over to me and opening up a deep orange block next. “You said you wanted it to have a bite to it, and that cheese definitely wants to jump up and take a chunk out of you.”
“That’s a really good idea,” I say, and a huge smile spreads across his face. I will never tire of seeing him happy. His whole face just radiates joy, like a kid who’s just come down to find a bunch of gifts waiting for them on Christmas morning.
“Really, you think it would work?”
“I think I had this mashed potato somewhere in LA that had blue cheese and bacon, and some other stuff in it. It was really good.”
“Maybe you can add chopped pickles, too. You love those?”
“Yes, and pickle juice.”
“Okay, now I will try the stinky cheese, but can you wait until I’m up on the roof to open it again?”
“Anything for you.”
“Really, anything?” he asks, scooting sideways to close the gap between us and wrapping his strong arms around my waist.
I tilt my head back to look up into his gorgeous huge brown eyes. “I’m pretty sure we don’t have time for that, though.”
“I’ll have to settle for a kiss then,” he says, and I push up on my toes and kiss him softly.
“But if the mash makes it on the board, you get to name it.”
“Cool, ok. Ummm. How about… Just a Mash That Loves Pickles?”
“Ha, that’s great,” I say, grabbing the notebook where I keep all the recipes, and I jot it down for later with the other list of quirky names for things that might end up on the food truck. Like As Corny As It Gets, char grilled corn ribs served with a smoky sriracha dipping sauce. The first time I made them for Lion, I placed the curled corn sections on his plate in the shape of a heart with the dipping sauce in the middle and when he saw it, he said, “It’s so corny, I love it.” I almost told him I loved him then, too. Yep, I know, giant chicken over here.
I make two additional cheese sauces for the mac and cheese options, leaving the third with blue cheese until after, and pop them into the oven with spiced breadcrumbs on top to get all crispy and golden, while Lion heads back upstairs.
Duckie and Ian arrive half an hour early, and no massive surprise, I catch Duckie trying to sneak in a bag of rubber ducks.
“Dude, I’m still finding random ones up on the roof. Do you really have to do this every time?”
“I thought we could make a game of it tonight. There is one golden duck in this bag, whoever finds it wins the major prize.”
“Which is?”
“This,” he says, pulling out a large rubber duck wearing a baseball uniform, but not just any uniform, it’s the Funky Monkey uniform.
“Where did you get that?” I ask, and Ian shakes his head.
“He had it made. Actually, he had hundreds of them made, now he just has to convince the GM to let him sell them at games.”
“If he doesn’t see the potential profit in these, then I’ll give them away instead,” Duckie adds in, edging toward the living room.
“Don’t tell them that or they’ll go for that option, maximum publicity zero cost,” I say, and Duckie taps his nose with one finger.
“Good point, okay. Can we use upstairs and down here for the hunt?” he asks.
“Just the roof, please. The boys are in the bedroom, and we don’t want them getting out.”
“Wow, the cats are here, so it is getting serious then?” Ian says, sitting on the stool opposite me while I grab the jar of pickles from the fridge.
“It’s been serious for a while, but I’m hoping the boys are comfortable here because I’m really hoping Lion and them will move in. I’ve already figured it out. We can put a cat run up from the window up to the roof and section off some space for them to enjoy the view while we’re up there, too.”
“That’s awesome, congrats, man,” Duckie says, heading for the window out to the fire stairs. “I’ll meet you all up there.”
Ian waves a hand his way, shaking his head.
“Sorry. I tried to tell him it was a bad idea.”
I shrug. “It actually gives me one less thing to worry about. I hadn’t figured out what game to play yet, but now we have a duck hunt.”
“Do you need any help with anything?”
“Nope, you can head up, too, if you like. He might be the one to need help hiding all those things before others start arriving.”
***
“I want to thank every one of you for coming tonight to support us,” I say, standing at the head of the table with Lion by my side. “Your scores on each item will help us to decide what will be on the menu when we open in a few weeks.”
“Those corn ribs are a must,” Ryan says, and others nod and agree.
“Thanks, now before we jump into the duck hunt you know who has planned for us, I have a surprise for Lion,” I say, nodding to his brother, Buck. While I hadn’t met Buck in person until tonight, we’ve been chatting for a while now. Lion told me how great he was with tech and stuff, so I reached out to see if he knew anyone who could help me with the logo for the food truck. I wanted it to be a surprise for Lion, too, because he’s already put so much into this, I wanted to do something for him to show him this is now our dream, not just mine.
“If you will all look over here, I’d like to share the name that will be branding our truck,” I say, pointing to the white screen we roll down for rooftop movies.
“You decided on a name, what is it?” Lion asks me, and I nod toward the screen.
“Yep, just wait, I want you to get the full effect,” I say, and Buck pulls out his mini projector and points it at the screen, the image coming into focus quickly.
Everyone claps and cheers. Roaring BBQ, is written in giant letters, and with it is the art Buck helped to design. A lion sitting on top of a smoker, one paw in the air, riding it like a bull.
“Do you love it?” I ask him, and he loops his arms around my waist and spins me in place.
“I love it. And I love you,” he replies, setting me down and looking back at the screen with the logo.
Did he just say he loved me, and in front of all our friends and his siblings? He said it so easy, too, like it wasn’t the first time, but the millionth, rolling off his tongue like a song on his lips.
“Hey,” I say, and he looks my way again. “I love you, too.”
He presses another soft kiss to my forehead and then turns back to the table to start collecting plates while the others make a start on the duck hunt. I can’t believe we just had our first I love yous, and he’s now picking up leftovers. He grabs the tray of mostly eaten mashed potatoes with blue cheese, bacon and pickles, and I laugh when he gags a little when the smell reaches his nose.
“What?” he asks, moving it away. “I know I said I’d try it, but I don’t think I can.”
“It’s not that. I was just… Well, I wanted to tell you I loved you before, but I wanted it to be perfect, so I thought I can’t just blurt it out while you’re gagging over stinky cheese, and then well, I sort of just did.”
He leans in close to whisper in my ear, one hand resting on my hip and sending heat flooding under his touch.
“You can tell me again later when I’m gagging on something completely different.”
“Help me find these ducks so we can get everyone out of here.”
“You got it, boss.”