Great husband who owned his own engineering firm, successful sons. Some other family owned a brewery in Charlotte too. Sometimes her mother could be a little bitter about the world in general, so Payton tried not to get too involved in those conversations.

  “My mother is Rachelle Davies. She’s the phys ed teacher at the same school as your mom. I’m Payton, by the way.”

  “Bryce Fierce,” he said, holding his hand out to hers. There was a heat and a sizzle when their palms touched and she wondered if she was imagining it, but when he jerked for a second, she figured he might have felt it too.

  She turned when another customer walked in. “You must be my good luck charm. I never get more than one or two people before Kelly gets here. Now it’s three and Kelly won’t be in for another ten minutes.”

  “I don’t know that anyone has ever said that to me before, but I guess there is a first time for everything.”

  ***

  Good luck charm. Please. There was no such thing as luck. Hard work, sure. He knew all about that.

  Luck. Nah. Not that he’d ever seen before.

  Though he was damn lucky his mother gave him this gift card, because these light fluffy pancakes were the best he’d ever had.

  He got up to fill his coffee again, knowing she wouldn’t charge him. He felt bad about it and was going to leave a bigger tip on the counter. It’d be the right thing to do anyway.

  Her coworker came rushing in like she had the morning before, allowing Payton to walk by and smile at him. He nodded his head and went back to eating, trying to take his mind off the fact that he felt a burn in his palm when her hand touched his. Had to be her hands were warm from cooking.

  Normally he didn’t talk too much with women. Not out in a setting like this.

  At work, he was all about talking if it pertained to his job. If it was frivolous little chitchat, he ran from it like he did his younger brother Ryder when he was being annoying as a kid.

  Yet for some reason, he found it passed the time chatting with Payton while she cooked his breakfast. Kind of like when his mother did and he chatted with her.

  He gave an involuntary shiver just then. What the hell was wrong with him thinking of his mother and Payton in the same thought?

  This was why he was still single. He just couldn’t seem to manage his thoughts well unless they had to do with his work.

  “See you again,” Payton called out to him when he got up to leave.

  “See ya,” he said, giving her a little wave and then feeling like a complete idiot with that move.

  Limit Your Interaction

  Bryce walked into his office fifteen minutes later and put his sub in the fridge where he kept a supply of water. He didn’t have class until ten but was always there hours earlier.

  Between lesson plans, office hours for his students, and research, not to mention just having fun in the labs experimenting with things, he spent more time at work than most.

  He left his office to go down the hall to get another cup of coffee that it seemed he drank by the gallon in the mornings. He stopped by noon, but lost track of the amount before then.

  “Hey, Bryce.”

  He turned to see Anne, a professor in the science department. Another chemistry teacher. “Hi,” he said, pouring his coffee into his mug that was permanently stained brown inside. He really should throw it out and get another one, but his mother gave it to him years ago.

  “Never trust an atom, they make up everything” was written on it. He thought it was funny, but his brothers thought he was a nerd when he laughed over it.

  “Want to get together later and go over course lessons?” she asked, moving closer to him, entering his personal space the way he despised so much. He had a firm rule of standing three feet back from people. Anne loved to enter his one-foot space.

  He hated working with others on lessons but knew it was encouraged. They all had their own way of teaching, but the course load had to remain consistent for all chemistry courses. Every student who took a chemistry—or any science course—had to leave having been taught the same material.

  “Sure. When?”

  “For dinner tonight?”

  He walked right into that and should have known better.

  Aside from her being close enough he could smell her shampoo, as her hair was brushing his arm, she’d been hinting—or hitting on him—for a good year.

  He took two steps back and put his coffee to his lips after he poured it and tried to figure out his words.

  His eyes took Anne in. She was tall for a woman, curvy, brown hair and brown eyes. Average-looking came to mind.

  She was totally his type when it came to coloring that he enjoyed on a woman. She was smart. She was funny when she wanted to be. They could talk about a multitude of topics for hours on end.

  Most times she was what he went for in a woman. Not flashy. Not someone that drew attention to him he didn’t want.

  He was considered stoic by many and just kind of dated women that way. He guessed he was stuck in a rut and needed to get out of it.

  Yet he felt nothing for Anne on a personal level and he couldn’t force himself to either.

  It was there or it wasn’t, and for Anne, it just wasn’t.

  “I’ve got a lot going on later,” he said. It’d only been a partial lie. He had planned on working on his thesis and catching the Charlotte Hornets game on TV.

  “How about another night?” she asked.

  “I’ve got a big break between classes tomorrow with no office hours starting around ten,” he offered. Before lunch and after breakfast. He had class at twelve so with any luck he’d be able to avoid being seen eating out with her.

  Not that it was a big deal, but Anne was the type that wanted to be seen so people would talk. Would ask her what was going on. She’d play coy and not answer them, but do it in a way that she was trying to keep it a secret but really wanted you to know.

  He wasn’t into playing those types of games.

  “That works,” she said, holding her smile. He could see it wanted to wobble. “Do you want to meet in one of the lounges or in my office?”

  “The lounge works,” he said. That way anyone else could come over and join them in the discussion too. “I’ll see you there. He brought his coffee up to his lips again and sipped the weak brew that someone made before him.

  He was missing the stuff from Millie’s this morning.

  He wasn’t one of those coffee snobs that had to have it filled with sugar or cream, frothy flavored crap or syrups drizzled on top.

  Strong and black and that was good for him. If the pot weren’t full just now, he would have dumped it and made another one the way he liked it, not caring that most people knew it was him and dumped it or added more sugar to it to drink it.

  Whatever kind of coffee Payton used at Millie’s, it was strong enough for him, and even better, he didn’t have to make it himself.

  And why did thoughts of Payton come into his head?

  Because she was nice. She was a hard worker. She had a good sense of humor and even when she might be annoyed with someone, she kept her smile in place.

  Just like him with Anne. There was no use being nasty or angry with someone. It was best to just limit your interaction and move on.

  That was how he’d always lived his life and it was refreshing to see someone else might do the same.

  ***

  At three o’clock Payton was cleaning up and prepping her donut batter so that it could rest overnight and be ready for her to start frying them in the morning. Kelly had to cut out an hour early today, which was fine.

  The lunch rush was gone, and she was planning her sweets for the morning and cookies for the afternoon. She never really planned too much more than a day or so ahead, wanting to make what she was in the mood for.

  When the donuts were done, she’d work on her dough for the snickerdoodles. They needed to be refrigerated anyway and it’d give her a head start while she tried to figure out the second kind of cookie she wanted to make.

  By four, some people would come in or call for subs, sandwiches, or salads. Maybe even the occasional burger or steak sandwich, but she was good working on her own at that point, though lately she was getting busier and busier and felt like the more prep she could do the day before, the easier it’d be the next day.

  She’d started working here after school when she was sixteen. Maybe she’d reach out to the local high school and see if they had anyone interested that was in the culinary program.

  Not that she did a lot of cooking, but just working around food was enough for her to realize how much she loved it here. Having a kid in a few hours after school until close might be just what she needed.

  She looked up when the door opened around three thirty to see her mother walking in. “Hi, Mom.”

  “Payton. There’s no one here, why are you still open?”

  Her mother never understood. “I had five people in the past thirty minutes come in for sandwiches or cookies and a drink. It’s been a steady afternoon, but this is the time I’m prepping for tomorrow anyway. In thirty minutes it will be crazy again. Besides, I’ve got five orders to make for people to pick up at five.”

  “Then you should get help in the afternoons.”

  She rolled her eyes. Her mother was good at contradicting her own statements. “I was just thinking that myself. Some kid that wouldn’t mind a few hours after school each day.”

  “You always enjoyed it here,” her mother said, walking over and getting a cup for a soda.

  “I did. I still do. We all have our callings in life.”

  Even if it wasn’t the glamorous life most people wanted or had. Or that her mother wanted her to “settle” on. She gave up trying to please her mother a long time ago too.

  “Are you making ends meet okay here?”

  Her mother tended to be somewhat bitter in life since she’d been a widow, but she’d always been concerned…in her own way.

  “It’s great. Better—or I should say busier—than when Aunt Millie was running it.”

  It felt like a betrayal to say that about her aunt who gave her so much, but the truth was there were things Payton had been wanting to do for years that her aunt didn’t want to do. Things to make the service faster, like the touch screen and orders showing up in the back. The credit card machine where customers could swipe and sign themselves rather than the cashier having to ring up the transaction. The gift cards.

  Start small, her aunt had said, and those things were easy changes for Payton because that made the running of the business easier. Less room for errors on her end, which was the ultimate goal.

  “You know your aunt was set in her ways. What, no donuts left?” her mom asked from behind the counter as she looked around for a snack.

  “No. They’ve been going faster and faster. I started with two dozen of two kinds, then little by little increased it to five dozen of two kinds each day. They still sell out.”

  “Then you should make more,” her mother argued, taking out a big chocolate chip cookie from the six that were remaining. They’d be gone by the end of the day she was sure too. Just like the raspberry bars that had an equal amount left. She put out anywhere from three to five dozen of each kind of cookies or bars every day.

  “I’d rather sell out than have leftovers. If I have leftovers I’ll give them away, but donuts and cookies almost never remain each day.”

  “You could turn this into a bakery,” her mother said. “These are great.”

  “I like things the way they are,” she said back. She liked to bake but knew she wouldn’t want to do it nonstop day in and day out.

  “Suit yourself,” her mother said.

  Payton looked at her mother in her track pants and T-shirt. She had the same dirty blonde short haircut she’d had for the past twenty years.

  Her mother never took much care with her appearance and her shorter than often crude comments and demeanor usually put people off. It still amazed her she taught elementary school-aged kids but then remembered her mother spent most of the time blowing whistles and yelling instructions at the kids.

  Though her mother had dated a handful of times over the years, she never put much effort into it.

  “Are you lonely, Mom?”

  Her mother snorted. “Why would you say that?”

  “Just asking. It’s been years since Dad died and you’ve never been seriously involved with anyone since.”

  “I’ve got no interest,” her mother said. “Your dad and I had a decent marriage, but it wasn’t one to write home about in terms of romance. We had a good companionship. No one wants that anymore.”

  It sounded boring to Payton, knowing she wouldn’t want it either. Rather than talk about it more, she changed the subject. “Oh yeah. I wanted to thank you for putting the word out about the gift cards at your school.”

  “Why, did someone come in and buy one?”

  “Yes. Diane Fierce. She gave it to her son. He’s been in here the past two mornings. He sits at the bar and eats. Today we talked for a few minutes and I asked how he heard about the gift cards since I’d never seen him in here before. He said his mother.”

  “Diane,” her mother said. “Talk about the perfect life.”

  Here we go again, Payton thought. “I don’t know that anyone has the perfect life, Mom. But Bryce seemed really nice.”

  “Which one is he? There are two doctors and one architect.”

  She frowned. “He said he was a professor at Duke.”

  “Yeah, a doctor. Some PhD or something. The other is a medical doctor. Surgeon maybe. I try not to listen when she is bragging.”

  Payton went back to her batter in the back, knowing it wouldn’t stop her mother from talking, but wishing it did. “I’m sure she is just proud of her kids.”

  “I’m proud of you,” her mother said. “Didn’t I pass the word on about the gift cards?”

  “You did. Thanks for that,” Payton said, feeling some shame. But it’s not like her mother would ever be able to brag about her having any fancy degree or career. She wondered if her mother was embarrassed over that too.

  A Pass On That

  “I can’t believe you found the time to meet us for a drink,” Ryder said when Bryce slid into the booth next to his brother Sam.

  “Please,” Bryce said. “Sam is just as busy as I am and he’s got Dani at home too.”

  “Dani is working tonight. It’s her late night. And I’ve got more flexibility than you to meet for a drink,” Sam said. “How is that possible when I save lives and you teach a bunch of snot-nosed know-it-alls?”

  Bryce snorted. Most of the kids were exactly what Sam was describing. Half just wanted to party. The other half wanted a decent grade without putting much work or effort into it. Not much different than when he was in college.

  Then there were the girls that, though they were of legal age, spent way too much time flirting with him in class, or coming to his office and being equally as inappropriate.

  In this day and age he didn’t take any chances, didn’t want to worry about anything coming back to bite him in the ass. His door was open at all times and someone was always present.

  “My classes are all over the place,” he argued. “Then office hours, prep work, my research, thesis.”

  “Blah, blah,” Ryder said. “That is your excuse to not have a life. Or are you just more comfortable with your face in a book?”

  “I date,” Bryce argued. “It’s just no one has caught my eye lately. I’m not like Sam used to be, needing to have a new chick on my arm every week.”

  “It wasn’t every week,” Sam said. “Besides, I’m a changed man.”

  “Thank God for that,” Ryder said. “That has gotten Mom off my back trying to find someone.”

  “Yeah,” Bryce said. “Thanks for that. She hasn’t been bugging me lately either. And you.” Bryce pointed at Ryder. “You find all the batshit crazy girls and make me not want to get involved with someone.”

  Sam burst out laughing. “He has you there, Ryder. What is it with you and psychos? Do you have a scent that calls them in like animals in the wild?”

  “That’s a good one,” Bryce said.

  “They’re good in bed,” Ryder said.

  The waitress brought over a third glass for Bryce to pour a beer from the pitcher at their table. “Only you would think that way. Are you guys ordering food? I’m starving.”

  “You’re always starving,” Ryder said. “Maybe if you learned how to cook you wouldn’t be hungry so much.”

  “Why do I need to when Mom brings me over food or I can get takeout?” Which brought up thoughts of Payton who he hadn’t seen in a week. He’d wanted to go back a third day but then realized that might border on creepy.

  Not to mention the embarrassing way he’d waved at her when he left last time. Instead he’d been either grabbing something quick for breakfast at home or getting all his meals on campus.

  “That’s just pathetic,” Sam said. “Even I cooked food now and again. You’re around college kids so much you are starting to act like them.”

  “Hardly,” Bryce said. He waved the waitress over while pointing to the menu. He was here and he was ordering.

  Once the three of them had their food settled, Sam went right back to busting on him. “Seriously, when was the last time you were out on a date?”

  “What’s your deal?” Ryder asked. “Now that you’re engaged you seem to want the rest of us to fall into line. Don’t you like being the odd man out?”

  “Odd man, my ass,” Sam said. “Maybe this is just the happiest I’ve been and want that for my brothers. Did you think of that?”

  “No,” Ryder said, laughing.

  “So?” Sam asked him again. Bryce had been hoping the two of them would go at it long enough that Sam would forget about his question. No such luck.

  “It’s been a few months,” he said. At least he thought so. Someone at work set him up—which he vowed to never do again.