Page 26 of Truck Stop Titan

Profanities escaped my lips before I had time to check myself. Lettie gasped.

Little One giggled. Fucking giggled. Filling the room with the sweetest damn sound I’d ever heard.

Lettie joined in, laughing, not at my expense, I assumed, but out of sheer joy that the girl had shown an emotion other than fear.

I pushed to stand. “Oh, you think that’s funny, too?”

Little One shook her head, sucking her lips between her teeth, then smoothed out the blanket, making space for Lettie to set down the lunch tray.

I claimed my spot by her side, and together we ate peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, apple slices, and chocolate milk. I showed her how to blow bubbles with the straw. She giggled again before making a game of whose bubbles could reach the top of the glass first. I let her win, of course.

After lunch, I turned on the flat screen and muscled through an hour of those damn rescue dogs.

While Little One watched TV, I mostly dozed, my mind drifting to Moriah. That cute as sin, crazy woman I couldn’t shake.

Shame we hadn’t met under different circumstances.

Voices drew my attention out the window. Rocky and his dad tossed a football back and forth in the yard, the little boy throwing taunts. Tito soon joined the party. Before long, the three of them wrestled in the grass, Rocky’s squeals infectious.

Little One sat up on her knees, peering over me to see outside. She glanced my way, brows lifted high, then hopped off the bed and ran to the window, rising on her toes to get a good look.

I moved the wingback chair closer to the window, lifted her by the waist, and settled her on the cushion. She leaned forward, hands and nose pressed to the glass.

“You wanna go outside?”

No response.

But damn, she was interested in those boys. One in particular, I suspected. I pulled out my phone and dialed Tito’s number. He dislodged himself from a headlock, pulled his phone out of his pocket, then looked up at the window where we stood.

“Reynolds, what’s up?”

“You see us?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“Think maybe you and that pretty boy can ghost for a few minutes. I’d like to bring her down, see if she’ll take to Rocky.”

“Worth a try.”

I watched Tito fill-in Tango. Tango looked my way, scowled, nodded, then squatted to talk to his son. Rocky looked up, noticing us for the first time. He waved, then jumped up and down, saying something to his dad.

Tito waved me out. The men headed for the garage.

“All right, Little One. See that kid out there? He’s just about the coolest little boy I’ve ever met. We’re gonna go outside, say hi, maybe he can show us around the beach or something. Yeah?”

Crickets chirping silence.

Then again, I didn’t wait for an answer. I scooped her against my chest, the way she liked to be held, then headed out the door, down the hallway, down a set of stairs, then out the front door, nodding to Lettie and James. The early summer heat hit with a blast, but damn that fresh air was a welcome sensation.

Rocky barreled our way. “Dane! Dane!” He crashed into my thigh. “I didn’t know you were here. Did you come to play football?”

“Nah.” I squatted, resting Little One on my bent leg. She leaned her head against me but didn’t hide her face. “I have someone I’d like you to meet.”

The damn kid smiled, putting Pretty Boy’s mug to shame. “Are you her dad?” Rocky asked.

“No. Just her best buddy.”

“Hi.” Rocky held out his hand. “I’m Rocky James Mason. Nice to meet you.”

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