Page 11 of Daily Grind
Brian eyed Mark’s back—then stared at Rob when the bell rang. “He knows.”
“Knows what?” Rob took a seat and laced his fingers in front of him on the counter.
Brian didn’t answer that, though his eyebrows rose into his sandy hair. He rotated to the sink and washed his hands. “So, what are you in the mood for today?”
“Whatever you want to give me.”
Brian damn near jumped out of his skin. “What are you… why are you… what is this?”
Ah, so he was conflicted. “You tell me.”
Narrowed eyes.
Time to dig. “What do you think it is that Mark knows?”
Brian shook his head and headed for the coffee grinder. The next several minutes, Rob watched Brian craft some kind of drink, his movements sharp and precise. Chocolate—dark, from the looks of it—and some kind of syrup. Cinnamon. Other spices. Frothed milk. Whipped cream with little chocolate shavings on top.
Brian slid it in front of Rob, his face a mask.
It was almost too pretty to drink and he had no idea what to expect. Only one way to find out.
When the coffee hit his tongue Rob closed his eyes. A mocha—a very dark, bitter one with a hint of spice and orange. Exquisite. Tantalizing. He licked the cream off his lips and opened his eyes.
An extraordinarily satisfied look greeted him.
Rob put down the mug. “What is this?”
“You tell me.” Brian lowered himself to his stool.
Well, he deserved that. “This,” he said, “is two men seeing how the other reacts.”
Brian swallowed a chuckle. “That’s what I thought.”
Maybe he’d misjudged Brian’s intentions. “Does it bother you?”
That question seemed to catch Brian off guard. “No, I just—” The fucking bell on the door rang and Brian started. “Hang on.”
One customer seemed to bring a flood of more and kept Brian moving around behind the counter. How he managed to keep everyone’s orders straight, especially the more complex ones, Rob didn’t know. Brian didn’t write anything down, and yet he managed to turn out beautiful drinks either in ceramic or paper cups.
When he finally served the last of the customers, he came back and plopped down. “Look, I’m not used to this.” He gestured between the two of them. “I don’t know what to expect—or what’s expected.”
Brian’s hands shook a bit, which was intriguing. Worried? Turned on? Hard for Rob to tell. “Right now? Coffee. Chatting. I’d like to pick your brain about this city.” He sipped the dark chocolate–orange creation. “I also wouldn’t mind your company, but that’s entirely up to you.”
Brian was exactly the kind of man Rob wanted as a friend. More would be exquisite, but he knew better than to expect it.
He’d been wrong about men and their desires before.
The tension in Brian melted. “Okay.” He drummed his fingers on the counter. “My schedule sucks, though. It’s—well. There are a lot of shifts I’m covering at the moment.”
“Hence the interview.”
Brian nodded, his focus on the door.
Rob rolled the coffee in his cup to gather the bits of froth clinging to the sides. “You know, I have some background in business. Maybe I can help you?” He had no idea how. “At least be a sounding board?”
Brian stared at him. “I thought you were an engineer?”
Yes, and no. Guilt pricked at his pride. “I am, but I’ve been involved in a few startups. You learn the business side of things.”
