Page 66 of A Fine Line
Crew ran to them with open arms, trying to practically jump over the caution: delicious food past this line tape. His siblings formed a semi-circle around them, each taking their turns pulling him in tight.
“We’re sorry,” Layla gave his shoulder a squeeze. “You’re more incredible than we’ve ever given you credit for, Crew. And we’re here, now. All of us.”
The rest nodded along, each taking a turn to whisper something low in his ears and by the time they wrapped him inone more big, Wells family hug, Crew’s cheeks were damp with tears. Mine were far from dry just watching the whole thing.
Crew’s mom shot at me and mouth ‘thank you’, which I returned right back.
People were gathering, the chamber of commerce employees all taking their places by the ‘starting line’. I tapped Crew on the shoulder, “Hate to break this up, but we’ve really got to go.”
“Right.” He turned back to his siblings, “We’ll see you guys after?”
They all excitedly nodded, except for Calla who shouted at him to ‘save us the leftovers’.
Crew’s hand reached down for mine, our fingers laced together, and we rushed back to our truck. Just as we were almost there, a low voice rumbled behind us.
“Wait,” we turned and Adam was holding a tattooed arm out to us. “You guys need someone to take orders, right?”
I turned to Crew, watching him stare back at his oldest brother with this look full of gratitude but something else too. Something only the two of them understood. The oldest and the youngest Wells siblings, staring back and forth at each other having an entire conversation where no words were said.
It was Adam’s way of making it up to him, as if seeing him a bright pink Hawaiian shirt wasn’t enough.
“Yeah,” Crew nodded and turned to me to confirm. My smile must have said everything because he turned back to his brother and stuck a hand out. “Come on in.”
We cooked for the next hour, Adam behind us taking order with his sleeves rolled up, tattoos on display and if nothing else: between his and Crew’s genetically good looks, we had at least all of the women’s votes in our favor. Probably most of the men’s too.
Crew and I moved in sync with every plate that left our truck, every taco and tartlet order filled with a side of nerves andexcitement. From time to time we caught each other’s eyes, him winking at me as his forearms flexed with his hands wrapped around the handle of his stainless steel pans. He had never looked hotter. Which was saying a lot considering I saw him shirtless on a far with a cowboy hat hanging low over those dark messy strands of hair.
By the time we served the last customer, my arms were sore, but the adrenaline was still running strong.
Crew gave Adam a slap on the back and a big thank you before turning to me.
“Winnie girl,” he grinned, wolfish trouble.
I smiled and purred right back. “Crew.”
“You come here to me,” his chin jerked up with his arms stretched out and with us both covered in any of the food we hadn’t served, including a smear of avocado across his neck, I jumped into his embrace.
Crew planted strings of kisses around my forehead, down my cheeks to my jaw and then my lips. His hands wrapped around my waist, where they always stayed. It was hardly my own skin, but all of his now. He kissed me like no one was watching, and considering I heard the door slam two second after with Adam’s absence.
His lips pressed to mine, two puzzle pieces sliding together, until I didn’t know where he ended and I began. He tasted like mint, the gum he’d been anxiously chewing all day, mixed with the strawberries I’d slowly been sneaking ever since we got here.
Once all judges had ate, we all sat with his siblings at the nearby fold out tables. Crew’s hands never left mine, even as other food truck owners came to introduce themselves, and especially when creepy Craig kept circling by us asking how we were feeling.
As soon as he left, for the third time, Crew bent down to my ear and murmured, “I’d feel a lot better if he’d quit checking my girlfriend out.”
I smiled, loving hearing girlfriend leave his mouth, entirely for real this time. “I’d feel a lot better if we got this over with and I could get you home to-”
My words were cut off by a microphone screeching. “Excuse me everyone, the votes are in and we officially have a winner.”
The crowd cheered, Crew’s mom and dad both blowing their airhorns directly behind us. Crew shoved his earplugs in a little further with a smile.
“Please, don’t make us confiscate them again.” The female announcer glared at our crowd and both of his parents slowly lower the air horns to below the table.
“The winner, of the Philly Food Truck Competition is…”
Crew’s hand squeezed mine, I turned my head to him to see he was already looking at me. As if that giant check and that big trophy meant absolutely nothing to him now. I knew, because it was the same for me. Because the thought of winning now, after already winning so much before, felt abysmal.
“Brunch On Wheels!” They announced and simultaneously, Crew and I felt both of our shoulders sag in relief. I think we’d both put so much into this completion and if we had won, maybe I would have wondered if what we had was only because of that. Because a trophy and a check with three zeroes at the end.