Hungry Heart: Konigsburg, Texas, Book 8 (38 page)

Rankin looked like he was gritting his teeth. “Again, that’s not the way it played out according to the other people on the same aisle. Your guy let the rig get too hot. Other people saw the smoke, but seeing as how it was your rig, they ignored it. The King didn’t. He saved your equipment when he closed those dampers down. Everything I heard backs his version and nothing backs Shoney’s except Shoney.”

“So everybody here decided to screw me.” Burke bared his teeth. “And a tie. For Christ’s sake, nobody gives ties in barbecue.”

Rankin shrugged, his lips moving into a smile that was largely concealed by his moustache. “The judges had a blind tasting. They thought yours and Chico’s were both exceptional.”

“Goddamn it!” The back of Burke’s neck looked like he’d spent the day at the beach without sunscreen. “We both deserve that fucking all-around, then.”

Rankin’s eyes narrowed behind his glasses. “Okay, first of all, watch your mouth, Burke, we got ladies present.”

Chico glanced back to see Darcy and Andy standing behind them.
Great.
If he had to punch Burke, he’d prefer not to do it in front of her.

“Second of all,” Rankin continued, “you need to read the rules for this cook-off. There’s only one All-Around Award, and it goes to the cook who ‘best exemplifies the spirit of Texas barbecue’. Part of that’s the food, but part of it’s character, and you got a real deficit there.”

“Goddamn it…” Burke began again.

“I said to watch your mouth,” Rankin snapped. “The King put out your fire and kept everybody else’s rigs from catching. And Chico’s pulled pork beat yours all to hell in my opinion.”

“Chico’s pulled pork.” Burke turned toward him, eyes blazing. “You shouldn’t even be in this goddamn contest—you’re not a goddamn barbecue cook. You’re nothing but a goddamn…”

Chico extended his hand quickly, grabbing hold of the front of Burke’s T-shirt and pulling him up so that they were nose-to-nose. Burke’s toes dangled off the ground. He struggled futilely in Chico’s hand, his face turning purple. He was surprisingly heavy, but Chico bench-pressed two hundred pounds regularly. “Listen to me before you shoot your mouth off anymore. You are pissed off because you lost. That’s understandable. You’re probably also pissed off at your guy Shoney who screwed up your brisket. I understand that too. But you want to think long and hard before you say something that will have consequences. Because trust me, if you keep going, there will be some.” He stared into Burke’s piggy eyes for a moment, then let him drop.

Burke stood gasping, his teeth bared in a grimace as he glanced back and forth between Chico and Rankin. The mayor folded his arms across his chest. “Good advice,” he mused. “I’d take it if I was you, Burke.”

Burke snarled, leaning forward, but Andy laid a hand on his arm. “Go on home, Lew. This is over now. You’ve got enough titles from around the state. What’s one less?”

Burke stared down at her with burning eyes. Chico’s shoulders tensed. If Burke so much as raised a hand, he was a dead man. Hell, if he so much as breathed wrong, he’d be eating out of a straw. Then Burke turned back to Rankin.

“All right, have it your way. I’m done with this town—and I’ll tell anybody who asks how you treat people here.”

Rankin smiled thinly, glancing around at the still-bustling barbecue booths. Music blared from the rows, while people ate and danced and sang. “Looks to me like they’re being treated about as well as can be expected.”

Burke gave him one more fiery look, then stomped off toward what remained of his team.

Andy turned to Chico, smiling as she took his hand. “Don’t we have more barbecue to serve?”

He nodded slowly. “We do. Let’s go take care of that.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

Harris leaned back against the side of his truck, watching the last barbecue fans work their way down the row. They’d run out of brisket a half hour ago and pulled pork soon after that. Darcy and Andy had given away what was left of the coleslaw and potato salad. He’d sequestered the remainder of the cobbler before Darcy could give that away too. All they had left now was the tail end of the
borracho
beans—wonderful though they were, he doubted they could get away with selling plates of nothing but beans.

He hadn’t figured out how much money they’d made yet, but he doubted it would be much after they paid the percentage they were supposed to give to the cook-off organizers. They probably wouldn’t lose money, but their real profit would be publicity.

All in all, it was one of the weirdest days he could remember, ratcheting through highs and lows so quickly it made his head spin. In the end, he thought Lew Burke had gotten off easy, given that Chico had looked like he wanted to kill the SOB for a few minutes.

Not that anybody would have blamed him if he had.

Chico himself walked up to the truck with a stack of disposable pans for the trash bag. “Strange day.”

“It was that. Felt good to win it though.”

“Yeah, it did.”

Now, of course, he’d have to face up to all the issues he’d been ignoring for the past week, including the future with Darcy. He managed not to sigh.

Chico gave him a dry smile. “You can have the prize money. All of it. You’ve got a business to rebuild.”

Harris grimaced. “Now that really does feel like charity.”

“It shouldn’t. If we do more of these, we can figure out how to divide the prizes. For now, I’ll pass it on to you.”

“You want to do more of these?” Harris narrowed his eyes. He hadn’t really thought much beyond this week. Obviously.

Chico shrugged. “Sure. Assuming I can work it around what I do at the Faro and you can work it around your business once you get your kitchen up and running again. We sort of know how to do a competition now, anyway. And we’ve got the recipes down.”

Harris nodded. “We do at that.”

“Think about it. I need to go help Andy figure out what to do with the rest of the beans.”

Harris nodded again, watching him go. He really didn’t want to start breaking down the booth just yet. He was dog tired, for one thing. And for another, breaking down the booth meant he had to face up to the future.

Darcy ambled toward him, her lips curving into one of her seductive smiles. His loins gave a quick twinge. At least he wasn’t totally dead. He had his woman—she’d said she loved him, and he wasn’t going to let her forget it. Maybe he should take care of that first.

She leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder. “How’s the All-Around Champeen?”

He sighed, wrapping his arms around her. “Sooner or later I’ll figure out what that means.”

“Means you get to hang your award on the truck.” She smiled up at him. “Never underestimate the power of a blue ribbon.”

He rubbed his face against her hair. “God, I’m tired. And we’ve still got to take all of this down. And clean up.”

“Clem says we can run the pots through the Faro’s dishwasher. Shouldn’t be too bad. Do you need to clean up the smoker?”

He frowned. “Hell, I forgot. I need to get that back to Chico’s cousin. Whichever one it was who lent me the thing.”

“Chico would know. I think his whole family’s still wandering around the fairgrounds. His cousin could probably just load it into his truck and take it home. He’ll have bragging rights for months—his smoker cooked the winning brisket.” She smiled up at him again.

It occurred to him that she was trying to cheer him up. It also occurred to him that he probably needed it. “Good idea.”

“And then we’ve got fireworks over on the playing fields.”

He smiled. “We could always stir up a few fireworks of our own. We’ve still got the lounge.”

Darcy shook her head. “Too many people around right now, ace. Talk to me later.”

“Definitely.” As a matter of fact, making love to Darcy in the lounge chair would rank up there as his favorite memory of the cook-off.

“Did your brother find you?”

So much for favorite memories.
“Yeah. We talked.”

Darcy raised an eyebrow, waiting.

He wondered how much he should tell her, then gave up wondering. He might as well tell her the whole thing. If she really loved him, she might as well know just how crazy he was. “My mom wants me to go back to the firm for a while. She says if I do, she’ll give me some money from my dad’s estate. She told me I’d need to stay there three years. Gray got her down to two. I told both of them I wasn’t interested.”

Darcy frowned. “You’re sure about that? It’s going to take a lot of money to get your kitchen up and running again.”

“If I went back to work as a lawyer, I’d probably never get it up and running again. I barely got out of that office alive the last time I tried it.”

Darcy blinked. “You’re exaggerating, right?”

“A little. Not much. Believe me, your soul dies some every day when you’re doing something you hate. Particularly if you know what you really want to do.”

She nodded slowly. “I can see that. I think. Do you know how much money you’re going to need?”

“Not exactly. I figure somewhere between ten and fifteen thousand would do it. Of course, that assumes I can go on living in the trailer. Or find another one cheap.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Appliances don’t cost that much, do they?”

“Nope. But I figure if I’m going to go on living and working out there, I need to do some flood-proofing. Maybe move the kitchen to higher ground. I did a little research—I’ll need to get an engineer to figure out the best way to do it. Then I might be able to do the labor myself.” Maybe he could enlist some of Chico’s endless stream of relatives—surely he had an engineer somewhere in the family tree.

Darcy shrugged. “Well, at least you don’t need to worry about a place to live. We’ve got my duplex. Unless you’re going to be too noble to use it.” She raised an eyebrow.

“Can Porky live there?”

“Probably. It’s Konigsburg. Dogs are a given.”

“Then we’re good. Maybe I’ll see if I can scare up some investors for the rest of it.”

Darcy gave him a long look.
Time to go all in, toots. Fold or play, Darcy, fold or play.
“Look, I’ve got some money saved up, around two or three thousand.”

Harris looked like he’d just had a sudden attack of indigestion. He shook his head. “I can’t take money from you, sweetheart.”

“You wouldn’t be taking money from me,” she said quickly. “I’d be your partner.”

He paused, frowning. “My partner?”

She took a deep breath. She’d been thinking about this since last night, since she’d finally kicked over those last traces and admitted she loved the Barbecue King. If you loved somebody, you couldn’t be half-assed about it. If you loved somebody, you went for it.

“Yeah. I was saving to open my own place someday. Turns out right now is
someday.”
Her lips slid into a smile that threatened to spread into idiot grin territory.
All in, Darce. All in.
“Only I want some say in the recipes for your sides. And desserts. I’ll give in on the bread for now. But you start thinking about opening an actual barbecue shack in town so we aren’t out in the sticks where our stuff gets washed away regularly.”

Our stuff.
For a moment her throat felt too tight to speak. She swallowed hard, trying to judge just how Harris was reacting to everything she was throwing at him.

He gave her a long, measuring look. “How much of a partnership are we talking about here, Miz Darcy?”

She licked her lips, her gaze dropping to the ground. “I don’t know. I hadn’t thought that far ahead. How much of a partnership works for you?” If he backed down, she’d be moving to Las Vegas tomorrow, job or no job.

He let his grin widen. “I’ll take as much as I can get. I wasn’t much of a lawyer, but I still know how to write up a partnership agreement. I can also do one hell of a prenup, although at this point you’ve got more assets to protect than I do.”

Her heart gave a mighty thump. “Prenup?”

He nodded slowly. “Prenup. I’m in it for the duration, Darce.”

She swallowed hard, then closed her eyes. “Okay. We’ll…take it a step at a time. But okay. That sounds good to me.” Actually, it sounded pretty great now that she thought about it. Hell, restaurant dynasties had been built on less.

Harris extended his hand. She took it, his warm fingers enfolding hers. Somewhere on the other side of the fairgrounds a Roman candle began shooting balls of light into the twilight sky.
Nice timing. Well played, fate.

“I love you, Darce,” he murmured. “You know that, right?”

She nodded. “I love you too.” Her lips curved up slightly. “And our ’cue rocks. Looks like I’ll get to be a
chef de cuisine
after all—in my own place, at that. We’re going to make one hell of a team, you know?”

“We are at that.” He leaned back against the truck again, wrapping his arms around her shoulders to pull her back beside him. “Yes ma’am, we are.”

“So I’ve got something to ask you. Well, discuss, I guess.” Chico raised an eyebrow at Andy as he closed the lid of the plastic container. They only had a few spoonfuls of beans left, but there was no way he was throwing them out. He’d have them for breakfast if nothing else.