I took the Styrofoam cup he handed me and walked to the drink machine.
I studied it for a long moment before going with Fanta.
He waited for me to finish and then said, “Sure wish y’all had some good sweet tea down here.”
I looked over at him. “Sweet tea?”
“Yeah,” he grumbled as he got a Coke. “Or some Dr Pepper. Y’all always go with Coke or Pepsi products. Both of those options suck.”
I grinned as I said, “They have Dr Pepper in the cans.”
“Yeah, but I can go through like four of them in a sitting.”
“Geez,” I said. “You can make your own sweet tea by adding sugar to it.”
He snorted. “That’s not how you make sweet tea. You have to add the sugar when it’s hot so it dissolves.”
I blinked. “What? Why? Doesn’t the sugar dissolve?”
He took a seat near the window that overlooked the river and shook his head. “The shitty stuff, Sweet’N Low, does. That’s not real sugar, though. The white packets are the real sugar, and they don’t dissolve unless you have hot tea. And they’re completely different tastes.”
“Interesting, I never really gave it much thought,” I admitted.
I placed my cup down just in time for Brawny to make himself at home under the table, bumping the surface as he did and causing my drink to tilt.
Meo, likely aware of Brawny’s move, picked both drinks up and sat down.
“Down, boy,” Meo ordered.
Brawny dropped down to his belly and propped his head on my feet.
My heart panged.
“I missed him growing up,” I complained.
Meo snorted. “He’s not done. Good luck with that.”
“I know.” I looked down at the young boy. “My dad and I have had mastiffs for as long as I can remember. We’ve shown them. Bred them. I don’t necessarily like that we’re breeding them, but my dad loves it. He loves mastiffs. Has since he was a kid himself. But this one was a rescue. That’s where my passion lies.”
“Found a good one,” Meo mused. “Not big on dogs in general, to be honest. We were more of a cat household growing up. But he had really great manners, and I didn’t have to teach him much. Seemed like a win-win for me.”
I smiled and looked up at the man, studying him.
He was just as perfect looking as he’d been the other day.
Though, his beard was a little thicker.
His butterscotch eyes caught and held mine for a long moment before he said, “You a dog trainer or something?”
I was already shaking my head as I brought my straw to my lips and took a long pull. “Nope. I’m a heavy equipment operator.”
I fully expected him not to believe me or give me shit, but he did the exact opposite.
“Not a job many women do. I’ll bet you’re way better at it than any man.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because most women are.” He shrugged. “Patience, maybe. I don’t know. Men are good, but women have always been just a hair above for some reason.”
