Chapter 2
Ruben
The lights flickered to the rhythm of the music across the beach and over my counter.
Sway worked intently beside me. With quick hands, she made sandwiches, filled bowls with sauces, and cut vegetables.
Next to us, veggie burgers of my own creation sizzled, and behind us, sweet potato fries hissed in the oil.
To achieve the perfect flavor, it was important to cut them into a specific shape and size.
My seasoning mix was the icing on the cake.
Again and again, I let my gaze wander over the line of customers in front of my truck.
I was pleased to see that it wasn’t getting any shorter, even though Sway and I were serving hungry party people at lightning speed.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Shane and his friends again.
I forced myself not to peek. One well-trained body lined up after another.
Sighing inwardly, I turned to my next customer. “What can I get you?”
“An avocado sandwich with chili.”
For some, it was fast food. For me, it was a challenge to create a unique culinary experience made from simple produce combined with my personal touch of cooking.
“Is there anything that can’t be on it?” I asked the guy in board shorts and nothing else.
“No red onions. Absolutely not. Do you have the cheese here? The cheese, you know!”
“I know.” Ocean View was famous for its beach and its cheddar. No matter what I thought about it, the famous cheese found its way into almost every meal here. Most customers didn’t notice that it was my homemade bread that made the whole thing taste unique.
As soon as I came here, I changed my sourdough bread recipe to make the taste ideal for the local cheese. At least I knew that. And my colleague.
Sway worked on another order, and we found our way around the cramped space as two cogwheels meshing—or, in our case, passing each other.
Reflexively, I adjusted my sweaty cap and inhaled deeply.
I looked up again. Shane’s group of friends had grown once more. Their laughter echoed throughout the entire area. The party was reaching its peak. People were crowding the bar, rubbing against each other on the dance floor as if they were in a private darkroom.
Our conversation this afternoon swirled around my head again. Why had I asked him? I knew he didn’t want anything serious.
Even though Shane had only noticed me a few days ago—god only knew why—I had known him for years. Even during high school, he had been this vibrant character. Even I, who grew up in a neighboring town to Ocean View, had known him. Known about him. I had seen him at the beach and admired him.
Since my parents had moved here, I hadn’t been able to escape his personality that was pulling me in.
In the years after graduating from school, I had rarely been back home.
But when I had parked my truck at the beach at the start of this season, I knew immediately who he was.
From my truck, I also had front-row seats to the never-ending number of changing bed partners who found their way to Shane’s trailer for weeks on end.
The only reason I had gone with him a week ago was to soothe the dreams and desires of my sixteen-year-old self that appeared to still be haunting me. And although the sex had been seriously memorable, I had chalked it up as a onetime thing. I didn’t have the energy for a relationship, anyway.
But the fact that he had found his way to me every single day since then, and I couldn’t say no to him whenever I gazed into his sparkling brown eyes, kept confusing me. So much that I had asked him if we should continue our little arrangement. Silly me.
As I wrapped the food, I shook my head at myself.
I could have made a throwaway suggestion instead of asking and coming across as a desperate fool.
Hey Shane, if you want to keep fucking me, you’ll have to drive quite a bit in the future.
I grimaced involuntarily. That would have turned out great.
Not. If he wanted to fuck, he could find another willing partner within minutes.
Damn. My travels around the world hadn’t prepared me for that.
When I looked up again, I saw Ash walking toward my truck. Grinning, I waved him over, and he came past the line to the back door.
We greeted each other warmly, as if we hadn’t seen each other in ages. In fact, he had been at my truck regularly over the last few days for a chat and to get his favorite burger.
I left Cape Cod for long stretches of time without regrets.
But coming home always felt special. The joy lasted for several days.
I tremendously enjoyed seeing my friends and family when I was home.
I usually didn’t miss anybody when I was traveling.
Work kept me and my thoughts occupied. But as soon as I returned to Ocean View, something settled inside me.
Ash ordered a burger, no surprise there, and was visibly relieved not to have to wait in line.
“Thanks, man, for letting me skip the line. I have to get back to my booth quickly.”
“No problem,” I assured him. “I figured as much.”
While I was preparing his food, he asked me about my recent trips.
“It’s crazy where you get to go. Should we be grateful that you even honor us with a visit?” he asked with a twinkle in his eyes.
Laughing, I stacked his veggie burger. “Stop it! Yes, I get to see Paris, London, and Hamburg!” I shrugged.
“But you know what, I get to experience the stress in Michelin-star restaurants and their hardheaded head chefs firsthand too. And guess what, I am not missing that part one bit!” I winked at him over my shoulder.
“But that doesn’t mean I’ll never go back to the whole circus. ”
Inside, I growled in frustration. Nerve-racking shifts at different restaurants all over Europe had one great advantage to them.
There I hadn’t had the time to think about relationships.
Focus, focus, focus. I had had one goal since I was accepted to the Institute for Culinary Education in New York: to become a master chef.
The excruciating hours, the fights, the stress, the whims of the bosses, the frustration had extinguished any interest in a relationship.
I had been proud that no relationship crises had ever distracted me from work.
“Does this mean, you’ve finally made up your mind? Fast food creator in a food truck, it is?”
I turned to Ash, who was studying me, and forced myself out of my spiral of thoughts. I nodded thoughtfully.
“Nothing has been decided yet. The reason I’m here now is that I followed the advice of the head chef at my last stop in Europe.”
“What did he tell you?”
I hesitated as I wrapped the burger in paper.
“He’s a big advocate of self-discovery. Michelin-star cuisine can be fulfilling for some, but for others it’s plain and simple torture.
In the beginning, I thought it was what I wanted.
But . . . ” How could I best summarize my circling thoughts from the last six months?
Since no one had ever asked me about it, Ash’s direct approach overwhelmed me.
But I didn’t want to shy away from an answer.
If I couldn’t talk openly in front of friends, then who could I talk to?
“My colleagues shook their heads, when they heard about my plans and snatched top positions in the world’s leading restaurants.
But I still took a step back from the whole circus and rented a food truck to find my true calling.
You know, for the first time in years, I’m in contact with real people—people who aren’t my colleagues in the kitchen.
But guests, whom I can watch as they enjoy my food. Or don’t.” We both laughed.
But the thought sobered me up. I hadn’t just watched customers; I’d seen Shane.
Never in my life had I messed up a pavlova. I could whip sweet egg whites into cake no matter where I was in the world. But what Shane had done to me completely overwhelmed me.
“You’ll find your way,” Ash replied. “I’m sure of it. Until then, I’m glad you found your way home.”
His words echoed strangely inside me. Professionally, I would land on my feet. Everything else was written in the stars for me.
I closed the door behind him and turned my attention to the next customer in line. I immediately fell back into our routine. I nodded gratefully to Sway, who had kept the shop running during my chat with Ash.
I glanced over at the customers in front of the truck again and immediately spotted Shane. I noticed a guy putting his arm around Shane.
A handsome, well-built guy. Shane’s eyes sparkled and his blond surfer locks fell into his face.
“And a Coke.” The customer I was serving pulled me out of my useless thoughts with his request.
“I only have water. Drinks are served over there.” I pointed to the bar at the other end of the party area.
“Damn!” Next to me, Sway blurted. She stared at the line in front of us.
“What’s up?”
She shook her head, lips pressed together. “My little sister is stuck at a party where a guy is making her uncomfortable. She called me to pick her up.”
I sucked in my breath as my gaze wandered off to the people in front of the food truck. Nevertheless, I immediately waved her off.
“Go! Go get her. And don’t wait around. That’s more important. I can handle this!”
And I would manage! I had handled worse kitchen disasters before.
As I picked up the pace, kept up the small talk with my customers, and noted with satisfaction how my supplies were dwindling, Shane still managed to creep into my thoughts.
No matter what his looks, what his friends looked like, he had eyes in his head and had never said a word about my untrained body. Thinking about our nights together made me dizzy.
No, Shane didn’t seem to mind that my arms were too thin and my stomach too round. Too thin and too round for the gay dating market, at least.
Because despite all his passion, Shane had never said a word about commitment.