Page 50 of Truck Stop Titan

Silence.

Through the crack in the half open door, I caught sight of a broken man. Posture load-bearing, face a mess and hardened with disgust while he studied his reflection.

There was so much I didn’t know about Dane.

A man who clearly carried his own unbearable burdens.

Ugh. What the hell was I doing? I hopped off the bed, wiggled out of my dress and rifled through my suitcase until I found my favorite cutoffs. Mid scramble to get them over my hips, Dane cleared his throat.

“Only three things in this world I’ve ever cared about,” he mumbled, drawing my attention from my button to the bathroom door, where a thousand pounds of brutal male filled the space. “He’s taken all of them from me.”

That face, all beat to hell, only made him more attractive. What did that say about me?

“That explains nothing.” I rifled through my choice of shirts, happy when I found my well-worn Miranda Lambert concert tee, because right about then, I needed some girl power vibes.

I refused to look at him, all brooding and sexy, with his husky voice andI dare you to fuck with meglare.

Until he said, “He’s not getting you, too.”

“Getting me?” I snapped, my nerves on fire. “I’m nobody’s to get.”

I gave him a minute to counter. When he didn’t, I shoved my feet into my Vans.

“Listen. I get it. You don’t wanna talk. That’s fine.” I gestured between the two of us. “This was fun. But it was temporary. Thanks for the orgasms.” I paused, waiting for a response, hoping for a reaction, anything to keep me in the game, in his presence for a while longer.

Dane merely dropped his head.

His silence spoke volumes.

# # #

The door was maybe three steps away, but the journey seemed impossible, and I wanted a rewind button. I wanted to go back to being naked with those strong arms around me, and that thick, commanding voice grunting dirty words while he made me feel alive and beautiful and wanted.

The door knob was just out of reach when his gruff voice blew across my neck. “Why were you crying?”

Eyes pinched shut to hold the tears at bay, I sucked in a dose of oxygen, and turned, leaning back against the wood. I met his weary gaze.

“Mim let me touch her today. She leaned on me. She almost hugged me. It was perfect, and I had a little emotional meltdown. Then I threw up, and Tango cleaned my mess, and I started thinking about how Matthew never cleaned a puke mess or took care of me when I was sick. And I realized how nice everyone has been to me, and how much I’m going to miss everyone, and well, I had another meltdown.”

Dane stared at something over my head, eyes unfocused. His chest rose and fell, his muscles bunching, rolling, almost as if building courage. After holding one deep breath for excruciating seconds, he blurted, “You don’t have to leave, you know.”

I did. I had to leave. But the words wouldn’t solidify.

He braced a hand on the door above my head. Then dipped, catching my gaze. “You could stay here.”

“My life is back home. My friends…” I wanted to say family, or job, but neither of those were true anymore. Back home, I had my favorite coffee shop. I adored my doctor, and Frank and Julissa from the bank. My neighbors were great. Sure, I had friends, but soon after Mom got sick, I had lost touch with most of them. Between work, Mom, and Matthew, there hadn’t been time to maintain any meaningful relationships.

But still. Shelbyville was home. Familiar. Comfortable. A great town to raise a child.

Dane tucked a finger under my chin, drawing my attention from his massive chest back to his bruised face. “If you had a job here, would you stay?”

“No,” came out breathy and spineless. I placed a hand on his stomach, the connection grounding me. “And why are you asking me to stay? You’ve said yourself that you’re leaving the first chance you get.” I gave him a wide-open door.Say something. I needed him to tell me he wanted me to stay because he wantedme. Because he felt the same crazy connection as I did. Because he was as attached to Mim as I was. Because he would miss us.

Instead, the hulking man dropped his arms. Stepped away. Scratched his chin. Grunted, “You’re right.”

An unbearable ache welled in my chest, spreading through my limbs. “I have to go. They’re waiting for me.” I turned to leave, then turned back. “Will we see you tonight?”

“Not sure,” he mumbled, roughing a hand through his hair.

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