Liars (Licking Thicket 2)
Page 107
“Bah!” Marigold said happily. “Bah!”
“Would you listen to that? She said Beau!” Beau grinned. “She knows me!”
“Yes, sir,” Diesel agreed, like the baby hadn’t been making that noise for over a month. “She sure does.”
I snorted and bent down to release Mari from the carriage.
“I have a treat for you, Diesel.” Beau thrust the platter at Diesel with both hands. “Try this while I hold my baby.”
Diesel accepted the platter instinctively but stared down at the barbecue in dismay. “Sir, I…” He glanced at me, and I shrugged innocently. “I don’t eat meat.”
“’Course you don’t!” Uncle Beau’s mustache twitched, and he looked proud enough to bust the buttons off his suit. “That’s why this here is Miracle Meat, a plant-based meat substitute, covered in Partridge Pit’s all-new vegan sauce.” He grinned. “Inspired by my nephew-in-law and added to all Partridge Pit menus as of this very weekend.”
“Really?” Diesel blinked. “You did this for me?”
It killed me that no matter how many times I told my amazing husband he was worthy, he still found it in him to be surprised when someone else thought so too.
“Who else?” Beau demanded. He seemed confused that Diesel would ever doubt that. “Sign out front of that booth says Partridge Pit, doesn’t it?”
“Well, yes,” Diesel admitted.
“And you’re a Partridge.” He shrugged like it was as simple as that… because to him, it was.
Diesel swallowed hard, then nodded and popped a morsel of the barbecue in his mouth. He grinned. “It’s delicious.”
Uncle Beau beamed. “You’re not blowin’ smoke, are you? It’s really good?”
“Best ever, sir,” Diesel said. “I promise.” Then my big, strong, tattooed husband wrapped his free arm around Uncle Beau and hugged him.
In the end, I can’t tell you if Diesel meant what he said about the barbecue or if, like with Marigold saying “Beau,” it was a polite fiction. In the end, it hardly mattered. When Diesel said those words, what he meant was “Thank you” and “I love you,” and if Diesel Partridge and I had learned anything together, it was that sometimes a lie was the biggest truth of all.