Page 5 of Daily Grind
“I can…” Brian hesitated. “Well, if the scheduling works… I could show you some.”
“I think I’d like that.”
“And more.” Brian reddened. “I mean, of Pittsburgh sites.”
“I’d like that, too.”And more.He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his phone. “Number?”
Brian started, looked around, and then rattled off a phone number.
Gotcha. Rob typed it in and hit send. Once again, Brian jumped. He whipped out his phone.
“Now you have my number, as well.”
“That a Chicago area code?”
Astute. “It is. Didn’t make sense to change it, not for my personal number.”
The damnable bell on the door rang, and Brian was off his seat and moving to the counter. But thatwasthe nature of his business. After creating some drinks and some pleasant small talk with his customers, Brian came back to Rob.
“I’m sorry I’m not the best conversationalist.”
Rob waved the words away. “You’re working. I’m the one imposing by sitting here and distracting you.”
There was a small pause and then quiet words. “I don’t mind.”
Rob studied Brian. A little red on that neck. A little heat in those cheeks. “Good.”
Poor man looked so conflicted. If only Rob could deducewhy. The attraction wasobvious. Probably to everyone else in the shop, too.
Brian collected the forlorn espresso cup. “I should go do some dishes before they pile up.”
“Don’t let me keep you.”
Brian snorted, strode to the sink, deposited the cup, and strode right back. “Not like the boss will yell at me.” He took a seat.
Nice. Oh so nice. “It’s good to be the king.”
He laughed. “Something like that.” An all-American flash of teeth in his grin. “So you like biking. What else do you do with your free time?”
“Well, back when I had free time, I liked to hike. I’m also handy with a camera.”
“Photographing the outdoors?”
“Yes—but not just the countryside. I like this—” He waved at the shop. “Cities. Urban areas. Industry.” In fact, he should have brought his camera today. Rob craned his neck around. There were some interesting shots he could have taken in here. Brick and wood. Brian’s machinery.
He’d been itching to get back into photography. And hiking. And men.
When he looked back, Brian met his gaze. “Squirrel Hill’s an interesting place to explore with a camera,” Brian said. “There’s both old and new. Different cultures. A mix of everything.”
He’d noticed. Synagogues. Men in hats and suits with tassels from their shawls hanging below the bottoms. But also college kids. In the short walk from the top of Murray Avenue to Grounds N’at, he’d heard Russian and Chinese. Passed a Thai restaurant. A multitude of colors, sites, and sounds.
“Todd mentioned a few places I should try for lunch.” From pulling out his phone earlier, Rob knew it was nearly noon.
Brian glanced at his watch. “Which places?”
He brought up the notepad app on his phone and slid it across the counter.
Brian pursed his lips. “Well, they’re all good. What are you in the mood for?”
