Page 1 of Daily Grind
Chapter One
Bright sunlightfrom the first warm spring day in Pittsburgh drove cheerful customers looking for a tasty jolt of caffeine into Grounds N’at. Brian Keppler wiped his brow with his forearm while two shots of espresso dripped into glasses for an order, then set about frothing the milk.
One cappuccino. One Americano. Both easy drinks, thank goodness.
He needed to down a shot or two of espresso himself. This morning had beencruel. He’d barely made it to the shop in time to open, and the flow of customers had been nonstop since he unlocked the door at eight AM.
A sunny Saturday always meant business would be brisk, and he was grateful for all his customers, but man, he needed about three more hours of sleep.
Coffee would have to do, as usual.
He finished crafting the drinks and handed them over, with a smile, to the high-school kids who had ordered. They set up their papers and laptops at a table near the window.
The line had died down to nothing and everyone in the shop had what they needed. For a moment, he had a reprieve from slinging bean juice. Good. He started brewing a much-needed shot for himself and leaned against the counter.
He knew better than to sit down, though he kept a stool under the counter. The instant his butt touched wood, a flood of customers would pour in.
He did check his phone and found a text from Ethan—the barista whoshould’vebeen working this morning.
Hey, am I still on for Monday?
Brian twisted his lips and pondered that same question. He hadn’t enjoyed being woken up by a phone call from Ethan at seven thirty to be told he couldn’t make his shift—not after a rare night out for Brian with his brother and sister. He’d fallen into bed after two in the morning.
Normally, he’d have let it slide. Things happened, sometimes. But this was thethirdtime Ethan had called off on short notice for no other reason than “I’m just not feeling it today, man.”
Brian clicked the phone screen off and tucked it into his pocket before collecting his much-needed espresso.
Hehatedfiring people, but didn’t see much choice in Ethan’s case. He needed dependable baristas, not dudes who came into work only when the moon was in the right house or whatever.
The bell rang on the door and Brian downed his shot and prepared for another round of slinging drinks.
A guy walked in. Tall. Red hair. Sunglasses. Not a regular customer—he’d haverememberedthis guy. Freckles and a bright-ass smile while he took in the shop.
Brian swallowed and set his espresso cup down. He usually didn’t dig dudes. But sometimes… sometimes he did.
This was one of those sometimes.
Sunglasses walked farther in and took the glasses off—and that really wasn’t any better. He had pale eyes—hazel or blue or green—and cheekbones that went straight up to heaven as he stared at the drink menu.
Brian’s usual line was “What can I get started for you?” That’s not what came out of his mouth, though.
“See anything you’d like?”
Sunglasses stepped forward and met his gaze. Hazel—his eyes were hazel and they had little lines around them that matched his smile. “Lots of things.” The melodic words slithered through Brian, all wrapped up in a British accent. “What do you recommend?”
He completely forgot what drinks were even on the damn board. “Well, what do youlike? Light? Dark? Bold? Something with a bit of cream?” Did hereallyjust say that?
A huff of laughter. “I’m fond of bold. And cream.”
“Chili Mocha?”
His smile deepened. “Bold, hot, and spicy?”
Yeah, he was in trouble. “With cream.”
“Ofcourse.” He tucked his sunglasses into the neck of his t-shirt. “Soundsexactlylike what I want.”
Shit. “For here or to go?”
