Chapter Three
Benji
“It’s a perfect day for the Fall Festival, isn’t it? I’m glad you and Levi decided to come for the weekend.” Benji packed up boxes of his rugelach and muffins and handed them to Isaac to put in his SUV. Levi waited behind the wheel.
“Let’s go, slowpokes,” he called out. “Jacob’s doing burgers and dogs on the grill, and Aunt Daisy’s made her fried chicken.”
“Oh, damn, I don’t wanna miss that. You haven’t lived until you’ve tasted Daisy’s chicken. Let’s go.” Isaac shoved the pastry boxes into the hatchback and slammed the door shut.
Benji chuckled. “Okay, okay, this is the last of it. I’ve got the baked goods, my tablecloth, sale signs, and price list.” He scanned the back of the SUV, checking off everything he’d need. “I’m ready.”
The drive to the park only took about ten minutes, but of course Isaac filled the brief time with a barrage of questions.
“So, tell me, how’s business? Good? You fitting in okay? The people are friendly, right?”
“Take a breath, Iz.” Levi snickered.
Benji waved off Levi’s words. “It’s okay, I’m used to it. A family trait, if you know what I mean. And to answer all your questions with one answer—yes. Everyone’s great. I’m fitting in, and business is booming. People are loving Bubbe’s cakes and the rugelach. I’m gonna make jelly doughnuts for Hanukkah and probably some dreidel cookies. Also, I have little bags of chocolate gelt for the kids.”
“ Mmm , love those.” Isaac licked his lips.
Benji cackled. “Yeah, you used to steal them all at the family Hanukkah dinners. Your dad would always run in and say, “‘We’ve been robbed,’ and you’d have to give them all back.”
“It happened every year, but it was still funny.” Isaac pouted.
They all laughed as Levi pulled into the grassy parking lot of the park. “I do love your mom’s potato pancakes,” Levi said, rubbing his stomach. “I could eat a dozen of them.”
“Could, babe?” Isaac patted his cheek. “That’s SOP for you. We must go through twenty pounds of potatoes before the holiday’s over.”
“I was thinking of making some and selling them in the bakery. It won’t be ‘out of the frying pan’ fresh, but I can make zucchini ones as well. And maybe sweet potato ones. What do you think?”
“Why not? Freeze them and sell them for people to heat up at dinner.” Isaac hefted a box of muffins. “I mean Trader Joe’s sells them, why not you?”
“Oh, that’s an even better idea.”
They walked to the check-in area for vendors and found their assigned table under the tents. The day was glorious—a cool breeze warmed by the sun in a cloudless blue sky. Benji took note of all the other tradespeople around—he wasn’t the only one with baked goods, because he spied Martha Metzger with her apple pies and dumplings that always won first prize at the county fair. Next to her was Callie Seaver and her famous jams and jellies.
With the help of Isaac and Levi, his table was quickly set and they promised to bring him some of Daisy’s chicken and her biscuits. Benji watched his cousin and Levi walk away hand in hand, and he sighed. He wasn’t averse to dating again, but Shepard’s public humiliation had severely broken his trust.
“You didn’t have to bring him to the holiday party and announce you’re engaged.”
“Why? We’d already broken up and moved on.”
At least one of them had, it seemed.
Shepard’s lack of remorse for Benji’s feelings hurt deeper than he’d anticipated. It was like a stab to the gut. How could he have misjudged someone he’d been so close to?
The answer was right there, in front of his eyes. Even after two years, he’d never known Shepard at all.
Out of the corner of his eye he spotted Gil Navarro heading toward his table and inexplicably, his heart beat faster. Silly, really, because from the big box he carried, it was obvious he too was a vendor at the fair and lucky Benji, as Gil had the table directly next to his.
“Hi. Looks like we’re neighbors here too.”
Gil nodded and set his box on the table. He took out some book stands and Benji watched with interest as he put out cookbooks of cuisines from across the world. Next were packets, tins, and bottles of spices arranged alphabetically. Gil set up a small, battery powered heater over which he placed a bowl of water to simmer. He poured in some oil from a small vial and added a handful of herbs. The air began to smell heavenly, and Benji sniffed.
“Wow that smells amazing. What is it?”
“Lavender and lemon oil.”
A man of few words, but Benji didn’t mind. He liked to watch Gil’s fluid movements as he set bottles of infused oil on his table.
“Does it have any special qualities? Can you bathe in it? I know my mother puts oil in her bath to keep her skin hydrated from all the sun.”
“That’s good. Yeah, different oils have different qualities.”
“What should someone like me use in the winter?” Benji couldn’t help it. All he could see was a wet and slippery Gil in the shower, oil glistening on his tanned skin. A wave of desire left him breathless.
Gil studied him almost clinically. “Cedarwood, ylang-ylang, and Frankincense. Maybe bergamot. It all depends on whether your skin is dry or if it gets easily irritated.”
With anyone else, Benji would get flirty. Maybe tease them and offer a personal inspection of his body. But not Gil. Even though he projected strength and toughness because of his height and muscles, there was something behind his eyes that spoke of hurt and pain. Fear.
God, he was a softie.
“Thanks. I’d better finish getting ready.” In the distance, he watched Isaac and Levi approach with several plates piled high with food. His nose twitched at the delicious aromas and he met them in front of his display.
“Eat it and weep from the deliciousness,” Isaac pronounced, handing him the plates with a flourish. “I got some of everything—fried chicken, mashed potatoes and corn pudding. Stewed tomatoes and green beans with almonds.”
“Good God, this is enough for four people.” He dug in and finished almost everything. “I think I died and went to fried-chicken heaven. No wonder you never stop talking about it.”
“I told you.” Isaac chuckled, then folded his arms and looked around Benji’s tent. “By the way, where’s your boyfriend? Your mom told mine you met someone and you’re in loooooove.” His blue eyes twinkled, and Benji’s heart sank. He leaned in so no one else could hear him.
“Come on, you know I only said that to get my mom off my back. She won’t stop asking me if I met someone.”
Levi’s eyes grew comically wide. “Oh, damn. You made up a guy?”
“Yeah. She’s concerned that I moved so far away and I’m sitting home alone.”
Isaac whooped with laughter. “Damn, you’re worse than me. But I get it. Before I met Levi, my mother was the same way. Now she’s waiting for us to get married.”
“Are you?”
“We’re thinking about it, but I’m not ready to tell my mother, which means you can’t say a thing.” The full force of Isaac’s blue eyes blazed. “You know those two tell each other everything.”
It was true. His mother and Aunt Amanda spoke almost every day, and there was no way he could ever say anything to one without the other finding out. They had that sisterly sixth sense.
“Promise. I won’t say a thing.” He kissed his fingers to the sky. “I swear.”
“But seriously, have you met or dated anyone? It’s not like it was when I was living here. Maybe because of Matty and Bryce. Or me moving away to live with Isaac.” Levi sounded sincere. “People are more open and accepting here now than when I was growing up.”
“That’s good. Deep down, we’re all the same. We just want to be happy and live our lives in peace.” At least that was the mantra he lived by. He’d heard the story of how Levi had hidden his sexuality because he’d been afraid he wouldn’t be accepted by his family. Then he met Isaac and fell in love.
“I think I was the first Jewish person some people here ever met,” Isaac mused. “But I’ve never felt out of place. My mom and Levi’s Aunt Daisy have shared many recipes through the years and it’s been cool, melding our traditions.”
Levi had wandered over to Gil’s table and was examining the goods for sale. He leaned in close and sniffed the scented oils. “Babe, come here and smell this. I think you’d like it.”
Isaac joined him and Benji watched as they purchased several bottles of oil and chatted with Gil. Or rather, Isaac chatted and Gil nodded his head. A few minutes later they returned.
“These oils will be good after I come home from a tour,” Levi peered into the paper bag. “Gil said they’ll help with sore muscles and stiffness.”
“Well, I take care of your stiff parts, babe.” Isaac snickered and Levi rolled his eyes while blushing furiously.
“Shut up.”
“He seems like a nice guy.” Isaac tipped his head toward Gil’s tent. “Lots of interesting stuff.”
“Yeah. He’s pretty quiet. He comes in every morning for a muffin.”
“ Mmmhmm .”
Benji narrowed his eyes at Isaac’s tone. “What?”
“You like him.”
Damn, Isaac was perceptive. “Who are you, my mother? He’s a guy.”
“ Mmmhmm . He’s hot. Is he single?”
“I think so. I’ve never seen him with anyone.” Benji chose not to discuss Gil’s hotness, which was off the charts that morning. The man wore faded jeans and a nutmeg-colored Henley that set off those deep, chocolatey eyes and clung to every dip and curve of his very well-muscled body.
“Well, go for it. I get the feeling he’d reciprocate. He’s quiet but after that loudmouth you went out with, calm can be a nice change of pace.” He took Levi’s hand. “See you later.”
People started to trickle in, and soon his table was crowded with customers who said they never got to try his baked goods because by the time they could come to the store, everything was always sold out. He made conversation with lots of new customers from neighboring areas and gave out samples of everything he’d brought.
Two hours passed before he had the chance to stop and relax. Benji did a quick inventory and he only had one box of rugelach, two small coffee cakes, an apple cake, and one babka left.
“Maybe I should cut the cakes up and sell them in slices.” He decided he would be nice and give Gil a sampling of all of them. He hadn’t seen the man take a break to eat and now, at two in the afternoon, he must be starving.
“I’m just being nice. Small town neighborly spirit and all that jazz.”
Benji loaded up a plate with a little bit of everything and brought it to Gil’s table. Unfortunately, he hadn’t fared as well as Benji and still had more than half his stock left. Gil was stacking some of the boxes, almost as if he were preparing to leave. Benji held out the cake-filled plate.
“Hi.”
Slowly, Gil turned to face him. “Oh, hi.”
Damn, he was so gorgeous, even if he was kind of standoffish. All that cocoa-brown hair curling at his strong neck looked soft and Benji imagined running his fingers through its silkiness.
“I didn’t see you get a chance to eat, so I thought I’d bring you a little something sweet to tide you over until the festival is done.”
Gil blinked and glanced at the cakes and cookies piled on the plate. “There’s enough sugar there to keep me bouncing off the walls until next year.”
Surprised, Benji’s jaw dropped. “I’m sorry. Did you just try and make a joke?”
For the first time since he’d met Gil, his eyes warmed with laughter. “What do you mean, try? I think I’m funny.”
And I think you’re sex on a stick.
They stared at each other, and then Gil held out his hand.
“Can I have it?”
Benji imagined Gil’s large palm sweeping against his skin. Lust pooled in his belly. “Oh, s-sorry.”
Gil popped a rugelach into his mouth, chewed, and swallowed. “This is good.”
Figuring Gil had no idea what it was, Benji explained. “It’s called rugelach. I make several kinds. The apricot is my favorite. I roll the buttery dough with lots of cinnamon and jam, then bake it.”
Gil listened intently. “I taste it all. I wonder….”
“What?”
“Maybe you could make some with chocolate. And some with figs and dates. That would probably taste really good.”
Benji thought for a moment. “I’ve made chocolate but they’re usually the first to sell out. I try not to deviate from my grandmother’s recipes but it’s good to try new things, don’t you think?”
Yeah, he was hitting all the innuendos, but he couldn’t help it. Gil ate another rugelach, this time more slowly, and Benji had never wished more to be a cake crumb, if only to feel the softness of Gil’s tongue taste him.
“Sometimes it’s good to try something new.”
“Is that why you decided to talk to me today?”
Those dark brows raised high, even as red blossomed over his cheeks. “I talk to you,” Gil mumbled.
“Hello and thanks doesn’t constitute talking.”
He seemed amused and licked his lips, unaware of the firestorm that small gesture caused within Benji. “It does to me. They’re a greeting and words in response to an action.”
Was he serious or teasing him? Benji couldn’t tell and to his dismay, he noticed several women waiting at his table. Dammit . He didn’t want to be there making chitchat with Mabel Gansey from Serenity Sewing. He wanted to be here, testing the waters with the most intriguing man he’d ever met.
“You have customers. You should get to them. I’m going to pack up and leave.” Gil must’ve seen him glance at the people gathered at his tent and assumed Benji wanted to leave.
“No, don’t.” Again those dark brows shot high. “I mean…why don’t we pool our resources? I’m a baker, and you sell spices. It’s only natural that we’d share some things in common.”
“That might be true but—”
Afraid of losing the only opportunity he’d have to spend more time with Gil, Benji shook his head. “No buts. Come on. You’ve got at least four types of cinnamon and all these different honeys. Allspice and nutmeg. I don’t usually bake with them except for Thanksgiving, but you can explain to the customers about their more common uses.”
Gil gnawed at his lip and Benji held his breath, waiting. “All right, I guess. For a little while,” he added hastily.
“Come on. I’ll bring a bunch of the spices over to help.” He gathered the little bags and tins and carefully carried them to his table, where he set them alongside his baked goods. Gil followed and stood awkwardly beside him while he took orders from customers.
“You like the cinnamon babka, am I right, Mabel?” At her nod, he directed a bright smile at Gil. “Well, Gil has some great cinnamon—lots of different kinds. I’ve heard it’s good for your heart or something like that.”
“Well, I can’t take anything that interferes with my medicine, but the doctor hasn’t told me to give up my little cake treats. Maybe I should get some for my oatmeal, too. I’m sure this is fresher than what they sell in the stores.”
When Gil didn’t say anything, Benji elbowed him and he stuttered.
“Oh, yes. It definitely is. There are several types, Ceylon or cassia. Most Americans use Ceylon, which is mild and light, while cassia is slightly spicy and bitter.”
“Oh no, that’s not what I’d like. I don’t like spicy things.”
“No, I didn’t think so. Here, I have some Ceylon, very fresh. If you’d like to try it.”
“Yes, that would be nice.”
With a satisfied smirk, Benji watched as Gil made the sale and Mabel walked away with some babka and her packet of cinnamon. Over the next hour, thanks to continued prodding, Gil sold three or four more spice packets and a couple of herb-infused oils. Benji’s cakes and cookies sold out.
“I think we make a pretty good team, don’t you?”
Gil didn’t answer directly. “Thanks for allowing me to share your table. It was very nice of you.”
Benji swept the crumbs from his table to the grass. “I’m a really nice guy. Would you like to have dinner later?”
Startled, Gil dumped all his spices and oils into a box. “No, no I can’t. Sorry. Thanks again.” And with that, he left.
Benji watched him speed-walk across the grassy field, growing smaller and smaller. What happened? They’d been getting along so well. He’d thought they were connecting…that maybe….
“Ah, fuck it. Why do I even bother?”
If Gil wanted to be left alone, that was what he was going to get.