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“That’s great! You should have baked goods too, I know I would take something with me to go,” Sadie said as she grabbed the plate that Peyton had handed her.
Shasta and Sadie went to sit down, and Peyton checked out three more people before she had a chance to go over and sit down with them.
Usually they had a leisurely breakfast together, with Peyton just occasionally getting up and helping customers, but Peyton supposed she couldn’t complain. She would much rather be busy than wondering how she was going to pay her bills.
“How are things working out with the Piece Makers helping you?” Shasta asked as Peyton slipped back into her seat yet again.
“They seem to be enjoying it,” Peyton said, surprise coloring her tone. She would have thought the Piece Makers would have spent a day or two in the shop then decided they wanted to go back to the church basement. “They say they like getting out.”
“It’s just on Fridays, right?”
“Yeah. I guess I haven’t had them that much. I usually cut out about lunchtime on Friday, although several times, I’ve gone earlier.”
“And then you work until nine?” Shasta asked, like that was a terribly long workday.
“I actually usually work until midnight. But it’s not really work.”
She tried to keep the dreamy quality out of her voice. Because while her job was extremely easy, just scanning books and checking to make sure the title was right, and putting the scan sticker in the front, maybe it would be monotonous. Eventually. But Bryce had captured her imagination.
Or maybe not imagination, just her thought life. It was hard to get her brain to concentrate on anything else. While she was there, she listened for his footsteps. Hoped he would come in with a sandwich or a drink or just to let her know he was going outside. Sometimes he popped in to grab the dogs and take them out for their evening walk.
And then, just the night before, she’d brought the berry French toast bake, thinking that she might get to spend a little extra time with him, since it needed to be cooked. She’d been disappointed when he said he would cook it.
But he invited her to the kitchen to eat. She hadn’t been expecting that and had loved the time together. There was something intriguing about him. Something tragic, but also the idea of fortitude and strength. Like there was character developing and it was a beautiful thing to see.
Plus, every time she was around him, there was some kind of tingling excitement that made her feel more alive than she had in a long time.
“I’ve never seen Bryce Shaker. What does he look like?” Sadie asked casually, putting a bite of the casserole in her mouth and then punctuating her next statement with her fork. “And by the way, this is amazing. Definitely make this one again.”
Peyton laughed, but then she sobered. How did she describe Bryce? Did she gloss over the scars? Not even mention them? It felt like dwelling on the negative if she made sure everyone knew, but if she didn’t even mention them, they would be surprised when they actually did see him.
And Peyton had a feeling that Bryce was working on the issues that he had and that maybe he would be back out in society soon.
She supposed it was a little egotistical of her to think that she had anything to do with his changing personality. She hoped she did.
Her divorce wasn’t anything like the accident and canceling he’d been through. She hadn’t lost what he had, because she hadn’t had anything to begin with.
But she did understand how hard it could be, and she hoped that some of the lessons that she learned had been a blessing to him.
But...was it too much for her to think that maybe he felt some of the same shimmering attraction that she did?
She mostly thought she was imagining things, but every once in a while, he did something that made her feel like maybe she wasn’t.
The way he came into the library more often than he needed to. The way his gaze lingered on hers when they spoke. The way he didn’t seem to want to leave. The way he looked at his dogs as they lay at her side while she worked.
That was so silly. She wasn’t a little girl anymore with the luxury to engage in silly daydreams.
“He was in an accident,” she finally began, deciding to answer honestly. And describe his scars as a part of his features, the way she would any feature that someone had. “I think he’s very self-conscious about the scars that he has on his face from it. But he’s tall, with broad shoulders, and his hair is a couple shades darker than mine. And he has really gorgeous blue eyes.”
“Really gorgeous?” Shasta asked, her fork suspended in midair as her brows went way up.
“Yeah. They’re pretty.”
“Whoa. Girlfriend. You went from really gorgeous to pretty. What’s up?” Sadie asked, and Peyton wished they weren’t both seated across the table from her so she wouldn’t feel like they were ganging up on her now, staring at her across their plates, both of them with expressions on their faces that said they expected answers.
“I don’t know. They’re just different. I’ve never really seen eyes that color before.” Or maybe she’d never noticed anyone’s eyes like she did his. Or had never felt tingles going down her backbone when anyone else’s eyes landed on hers. The way she did with Bryce.
“Blue eyes are blue eyes,” Shasta said, her voice holding confidence and banality.
