Page 19 of Truck Stop Titan

“Tango knows you’re here. He knows what you did for that little girl. He’ll never forget what you did for Rocky, or his father. He might beat his chest a bit, but he couldn’t do a damn thing to stop us being friends. You’re Rocky’s family, whether that little boy knows it or not, you’re his family. That makes you my family.”

Blondie’s eyes welled with emotion, and damn, her words hit like a bat to the chest. I offered the only gratitude I could muster. “Rocky looks good.”

Her smile sliced me to shreds. “He’s got Addy’s nose. He snorts like she used to do when she laughed, too.” She sighed, eyes losing focus. “I see her in him all the time.”

My dead cousin was the last person I wanted in my head. Her death was on me.Me. And the little bitch haunted me on the daily.

“He’s the spitting image of his dad, if you ask me.”

Slade shrugged, a look of pure bliss softening her face. “Can’t argue with that.”

Rocky barreled through the swinging doors, plopped a drippy cup on the table, then pulled a straw out of his back pocket and dropped it next to his concoction.

“Mom, can I have a milkshake with…wait.” His head bounced, attention shifting from his mom to me. “What’s your name?”

Slade bit her lip, brows quirking in apology, then pushed from the table to crouch next to her son. “Rocky. This is Dane. He’s an old friend of ours.”

“Cool. Do you play football, too?”

Definitely his father’s son. “No, kid. No football for me.”

“Rocky, time for school.” Slade roughed a hand through his already messy hair. “Go grab your things out of the office.”

“’K, Mom!” With a hop and a skip, the boy sprinted off again.

Seconds later, he was back, a Seahawks backpack slung over his shoulder. “Bye, Dane!” he yelled, jetting by, and rattling that damn cow bell on his way out.

Slade leaned forward, hands splayed on the table. “It’s really good to see you, Dane. Take care of yourself, okay?”

“Yeah, Blondie. Take good care of that little shit.”

She nodded, then turned to leave, a light sway to her steps. I watched, unsure I’d see the two of them again, and fuck if that didn’t make me nauseous.

I chanced a glance at the beauty in the corner. She’d spotted me, her mouth tilting in a shy grin, her cheeks glowing pink.

I raised my hand in greeting, and what the fuck? I didn’t wave at people.

Moriah laid cash on her table, stood, straightened her skirt, and came my way. Her green dress hugged her chest and showed off the perfect amount of leg, skin dusted with freckles like on her nose. Pretty shoes and pretty feet. Hair the color of vintage leather. She glowed, and damn, she was far too clean and shiny for the likes of me.

Shit.

“Fancy meeting you here.” She laughed, shrugging her purse tighter up her shoulder.

“Yeah. What a coincidence.” Those eyes held me captive, rendered me speechless.

“I have a meeting to get to.” She shifted foot to foot, then offered her hand. “It was nice meeting you, Trailer.”

I took those soft fingers in mine and swear to Christ a cluster of bombs detonated in my chest. I cleared my throat, found my voice. “It was aneffin’pleasure meeting you, Moriah.”

Her laugh soothed my aches, and I held her longer than necessary, captivated by those gorgeous, fuck-me eyes.

The girl leaned closer, her soft lips parted, and she whispered, “Best night of myfuckinglife.” She pulled her hand free, winked, then turned on her heel and sauntered out the door, that damn cowbell clanging, an ugly reminder she was gone.

Best night?Mine, too,I thought to myself. Mine, too.

“The fuck you grinning at?” Tito parked his ass in the chair across from me, and looked over his shoulder, following my trajectory.

Moriah had disappeared behind an SUV.

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