“What?”
She sighs. “Oh, nothing, Royce Daniel Rigsby. Nothing at all.”
“Why are you middle naming me?”
“When are you going to settle down with a nice woman?” she huffs, crossing her arms over her chest and giving me a glare that means all business.
“Vivian’s not nice?” I ask, knowing I’m prodding the bull. If I’m not careful, I’ll get the horns in the form of a lecture from Jackie Rigsby.
Mom’s gaze is pointed. “Don’t sass me, Royce. You know what I mean. I’d like grandkids someday before I get too old to enjoy them.”
Now it’s my turn to roll my eyes. “You’re fifty-eight. Hardly too old to enjoy grandkids,” I argue. “Besides, I’m not the one getting married, Mom. Why don’t you bug Rueben with your desire for grandkids?”
Just then the bell on the door chimes behind me. “You don’t think I haven’t mentioned it to him too? At least he’s getting married,” she says, her face softening with a smile as she looks over my shoulder. “To a wonderful young woman.”
“I’m pretty sure that means I’m her favorite,” my brother whispers in my ear, earning an elbow to the gut.
“That’s not at all what she said before you walked in.” I shrug and glance up at the menu.
Sweet Treats is a bakery first and foremost, but lately has added panini sandwiches and homemade side salads to the menu. Mom is usually in back, taking care of baking fresh breads, cookies, pies, and even cakes. It’s also where I indulge in my cream cheese bars obsession. Ever since I was a little boy and Mom baked her first pan of strawberry cream cheese bars, I’ve been hooked.
“It’s always the rotten sibling that continually draws the attention to the fact he’s the favorite one,” Rueben replies, pulling out his wallet.
“Put that away,” Mom says, waving her hand dismissively.
“We don’t come here so you can buy us food,” he states, which is the truth. We come here because the food is excellent, service quick, and we get to see Mom.
“It’s Rueben’s turn to buy. Take his money,” I tell her.
Mom just shakes her head and grabs a pen. “What would you boys like?”
“I’ll have the turkey ranch panini with a side of coleslaw and a blueberry smoothie,” I tell her, stepping aside so my brother can add his.
“I’ll have the same but with a mango smoothie and also a chicken salad croissant with pasta salad and an iced chai tea with vanilla.”
“Jesus, good thing you’re buying if you’re eating that much,” I tease.
“Cricket is joining us.” Just the mention of his fiancée’s name brings a smile to his face. I’ve never been jealous of my brother, but there’s something in the contentment and happiness I see on his face that causes a little bubble of something to rise in my chest.
Pushing it aside and refusing to dissect it, I say, “Of course she is. You can’t go anywhere with your girlfriend.”
“Fiancée, asshole. Get it right.”
“Go sit down, both of you,” Mom says as the door opens, and a small group of customers come in. “Maria’s in back. I’ll see if I can sit with you for a few minutes.”
“Don’t forget to collect his money!” I holler to her back as she slips through the swinging doors that lead to the massive kitchen.
“Hey, Royce,” Vivian’s singsong voice fills the room as she steps up to the vacant counter to collect the next group’s orders.
“Hi, Viv,” I reply politely.
Before I can slip away to join my brother, she asks, “Busy day today?” She pops her gum and juts out her hip in an attempt to look seductive.
“Not really. I’m off today,” I confirm.
She leans forward so the group at the counter can’t hear and presses her arms into her chest, causing her tits to protrude from her bakery V-neck shirt. “I really wish I was off today.” She adds a wink, just for good measure.
I chuckle at her innuendo and give her one of my cocky grins.
Just as I start to reply something teetering on dirty, my brother hollers, “Royce, get over here,” saving me from probably making Viv an offer I can’t take back.
“Bye, Viv,” I reply, turning and heading toward my brother, noticing her instant pout before I completely turn my back on her.
When I slip into my seat, he says, “Knock it off.”
“What?” I ask innocently.
“Pssh! You know exactly what you’re doing. Don’t sleep with her,” he whisper-yells so no one can hear him.
“I wasn’t going to,” I defend.
And I wouldn’t. I can’t. Not when my head is full of images of my blonde stranger on the porch from last night. It’s hard to think of anyone else but her, which to be honest, is throwing me off my game. Add to it the parting comments from the other woman I’ve been randomly texting, and I’m a practically a walking hard-on today.
“What’s going on with you?” he asks, knowing me too well.
“Nothing,” I reply as Savannah, one of the bakery’s part-timers, delivers our drinks.
“I call bullshit.” He gives me a pointed look as he takes a drink of his smoothie.
“Where’s Cricket?”
“Don’t even try to change the subject. What’s going on with you?” he asks with a little more authority. He’s not going to let this go until I talk.
Exhaling loudly, I lean in so the entire room doesn’t hear me. “I met someone.”
His eyes go wide in shock. “Really?”
“Yes,” I tell him, but to be honest, I’m not really sure which woman I’m talking about.
“And…”
I shrug. “And it’s still pretty early, man.” I’m not about to tell him I don’t even know either of their names. “Can you just let me figure it out?”
“Okay, sure. Just know I’m here if you need me,” he states. My hazel eyes meet his, and I nod in understanding and appreciation.
“Hey, guys!” Cricket sings as she enters the bakery and makes a beeline for our table.
“Hey, babe,” my brother practically coos the moment his fiancée slides into the chair beside him, his lips meeting hers in greeting.
“Hi, Royce.” Cricket is all smiles as she takes the empty seat across from me.
“Cricket. You come to your senses yet and ready to leave him for the better Rigsby?” I tease.
Rueben growls almost immediately, making me laugh. “You do that on purpose,” Cricket chastises with a laugh.
“Is Royce bothering you, Cricket?” Mom asks, as she approaches our table with a tray of food.
“What? Why am I the guilty party automatically?” I ask my mom, enjoying the way her hazel eyes sparkle with laughter.
“Because I know you, Royce.”
I reach over and take the food before she can serve us. She may work here, but I hate she has to do that. I instantly notice a fourth plate, so I scoot over to the chair against the wall, freeing up the closer seat for Mom.
“How are you, Jackie?” Cricket asks, as she dives into her pasta salad.