Page 101 of Truck Stop Titan

I studied the sink. The soapy dish sponge, the tiny dent in the steel, the sugar spoon tipped inside the drain. Blinking the moisture from my eyes, I mumbled, “Okay.”

“Thank you for dinner.”

He was leaving, and I wanted to beg him to stay. “Will you be back tonight?”

“Not sure.”

I arched my neck, accepting another kiss, then watched him say his goodbyes to Mim.

Although warm and fuzzy from his touch, ice cold shivers rocked my body at the sight of Dane retreating, his muscles taught to the verge of snapping.

He wasn’t happy.

Good.

Neither was I.

Clearly, whatever Hammer had done wrong, Dane was going to make right.

# # #

“Everything looks great.” Leticia snapped off her gloves and tossed them in the covered trash can. “Heartbeat is strong.” She handed me a towel, then scooted the ultrasound machine back into the corner. “I’d like to see the numbers on the scale going up, instead of down, though.”

“I’m eating,” I assured the doctor. “I am. It’s just that I’m throwing up more.”

Lettie nodded. Scribbled some notes on her pad. “I thought Dane would be here for your exam.”

“Me, too. Something must’ve come up.” I forced a smile, refusing to show my worry.

She turned and wrapped a stethoscope around Mim’s neck. “Want to hear the baby’s heartbeat?”

Mim’s eyes widened, her mouth dropping open, then curling into a smile while she nodded. She skipped to my side and waited for Leticia to slide a stool next to the exam table.

I laid back down and watched the two of them interact, mindful of the huge change in my niece from when I’d met her. She still hadn’t spoken a word to anyone other than Rocky. But she had started to talk in her sleep, mumbles mostly, and I’d heard my name more than once. She had a voice, and I knew, I just knew, when she was brave enough, speaking out loud to an adult would be her final hurdle to healing.

“I know it’s early,” Lettie said, smiling down at Mim. “But have you guys thought about names for the baby?”

“Mim should be the one to pick a name,” came a deep, gravelly proclamation from the doorway. My heart skipped a beat at the sight of Dane, wrapped in jeans, a faded blue tee, and a thousand layers of confident, muscular, absorbing man.

Mim gasped and hopped off the stool, diving into Dane’s arms, the baby forgotten.

Lettie laughed. “That sounds like a great idea.”

“But,” Dane continued, narrowing his gaze on Mim, “if you want to pick the baby’s name, you have to tell us, out loud, with your beautiful voice.”

Dane strode my way, Mim hanging from his neck. “Sorry I was late.” He dropped a kiss on my lips, then surprised me by dropping a peck on Lettie’s cheek.

Lettie blushed with motherly joy and patted his shoulder. “You’re here now. Anyone hungry? Mim, wanna help me make lunch?”

Dane dislodged Mim, set her on her feet, and tugged her pigtail. “Be good for Lettie.”

When Mim grabbed Lettie’s hand and dragged her out of the room, I released a sob. That little girl had come so far.

“You okay?”

“Perfect.”

“You’re crying.” He brushed a tear away, staring down at me.

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