“D-boy?” He cackles and points towards Alejandro, walking towards us, his black Doberman pup, Jinx, now by his side. During puppy classes, the trainers’ dogs lay obediently on one side of the pen.
“That’s what we call him. Alejandro is such a long name you know.” It is.
“But why that?” My nosy butt gets the upper hand.
“They think it’s funny because I was Delta Force,” Alejandro answers himself. “But I guess it’s better than Poochiekins,” he snorts and Noah bellows out a laugh.
“Fuck, I almost forgot about that one … ” Noah swivels a look at his friend and smirks. “That was one horse-ass crazy girl.” Okay, this sounds like a story I should hear, because I can’t wantonly envision a girl using the word ‘Poochiekins’ as someone very dangerous.
“Please continue.”
Alejandro’s serious face doesn’t change, but he slides Noah a look only a man can understand. I know those looks. My brothers have like a million of them.
“Susie,” Noah says. “She stayed in the same foster home as my sisters. Pretty little thing, too. And she crushed big time on our boy here. Put everything into the relationship. Even got him a little pet name.”
“Poochiekins?” I ask with a giggle. Noah nods with a big smirk.
“Only there was a tiny communication problem. She thought they were exclusive, while our loverboy here didn’t commit to anything.”
Alejandro rolls his eyes – hard. “There was nothing to commit to. I never slept with her.”
“So Susie did what any not-so-normal girl would do … she tried to convince him that they were meant to be together. In the middle of the night … with cable ties and ducktape.” D-boy snorts.
“She had a fucking knife,” he says rigidly. “You always leniently forget that part.”
“Knife?”
“Yeah, so he claims. He ran away all the way to the Navy without looking back.” Noah leans closer to me as if he’s going to share a secret. “He doesn’t like talking about it.”
“You can be such an asshole, you know.” Okay, maybe I was wrong – they’re just like the guys I know.
“So what happened to Susie?”
“She ended up in juvie for stabbing her foster parent with a knife,” Noah says flatly. I cackle with surprise.
The reception area is large and airy, with wide planked wood floors and top-to-floor window panes, looking over the paddocks, fields, and a sizable man-made lake in the distance. Along the sides are comfortable benches. In the middle is a circular counter, behind which is the hub of the entire place.
A door to the right leads to the cafe where we find Jesse at a cozy table in the corner. I slide in next to him, and Alejandro takes a chair opposite. As soon as he sits down, Jinx – without any command – plops to the floor with a little sigh, head on his front paws, eyes soulful.
Noah comes back with four massive glasses filled over the brim and a long sausage, which he puts in front of Jinx. To my surprise, the puppy doesn’t gobble it down. Instead, he stares at the sausage without even blinking, his tiny body shivering with anticipation.
“Eat,” Alejandro says. Like a speed train, he snarfs it down and licks his chops, then sits and eyes his master hoping for seconds.
“Down.” He hits the floor with what looks like a puppy pout and closes his eyes.
I stare at my shake. Its decadent coats of deliciousness layered on top of each other, a delightful blend of sweet double fudge and creamy chocolate, combined with bites of cookie dough, offering a perfect mix of texture and flavor, which I’m sure is going to become one of my favorites.
I sip through the curly straw and the coldness hits my tongue in an explosion of heavenly sugariness.
“Holy hell, this is so good.” I take another big sip. Yeah, I might become this cafe’s number-one customer.
“Told ya,” Noah smirks.
“I should bring Jackson here. He would murder for the triple toffee cream with strawberries.” Believe it or not, Jackson’s got a sweet tooth like me, but instead of fudge, he loves toffee and strawberries.
Jesse coughs in his drink and jolts his head as if he just saw a ghost.
“What’s wrong with you?”
“Eh … Jackson … he’s just a little … eh … intense.” Is he scared of my brother? That’s nothing new. Lots of people are scared of him. “Super hot, but harsh.”
“You know, hidden underneath his tough boy exterior, is a real softy that would risk everything for those he loves.” I defend my brother, but it’s also the truth.
“It’s hidden pretty deep under that pretty-boy exterior then,” Jesse laughs. It hits me like a doornail. Jesse is batting for the other side. “But it’s good to know someone’s got your back.” I stare at the three of them. They seem close. Familiar with each other.
“So how did you guys meet?” Alejandro continues to sip his shake with an impassive expression. Noah pulls a tight lip. So I look at Jesse.
“Noah and I are cousins,” he answers. “And D-boy is our foster brother.” My heart drops. They’re all orphans too.
“What happened to your parents?” Each of them displays a different mournful expression. I’m being too forward. We don’t know each other that well.
“Sorry, that was untactful. I lost my parents too. Luckily we didn’t end up in a foster home, but I suppose the pain is still the same.” There is a beat of stoic silence.
“Let’s talk about something else,” I try to lift the mood I’ve drowned.
“My mom died of cancer,” Alejandro says softly, slowly stirring his drink with the brightly colored curly straw. “And I’ve seen my dad from afar, but I don’t have enough courage to go and actually meet him face to face, yet.”
“Yeah, I keep telling you that you’re a moron,” Noah says softly, “And a chicken.”
“Our parents died on the same day in the same motor accident,” Noah swings a finger between him and his cousin. “I’d give anything to have them back. And you have that, but you don’t grab the opportunity.” I understand where Noah is coming from. I would love to have my mom back. But I’m not so sure about my dad. He just left.
“I understand. He must be an ass like my dad. And no one likes proppers.” My brain-to-mouth filter not working again. My tongue has always been faster than my brain. And although it constantly gets me into trouble, I just can’t control it. Words just pop out before I even know what I’m saying.
“Proppers?” Jesse asks with a blank face.
“Yeah, parents who drop their kids … proppers.”
Alejandro chucks out a comical snort.