Page 55 of Truck Stop Titan

The smiles returned. We finished lunch. Stopped at the city park on the way home. Then drove back to the mansion.

Rocky grabbed Mim’s hand the second we cleared the door. “Can we go to Mim’s room and make Grandpa a card?”

“Yeah. Sure.” Moriah sighed, breathless and clearly weary.

“I’ll head up with them. You must have a ton of calls to make.”

“Yeah. Yeah. I need to reschedule my flight.” She turned and headed up the stairs. “Call my job contacts. Mom’s attorney…”

I followed, mostly ignoring her checklist, until I heard, “Call Matthew back.”

I’d have been less surprised, or crushed, if she’d dropped a jet engine on my head.

She jumped when I clamped a hand around her waist, then shivered when I pulled her against me. “What was that you just said?”

“Matthew finally called. Said he wants to talk.”

“You told him to fuck off, right?”

Moriah wiggled in my arms, enough to let me know she wasn’t about to take my shit, but not enough to make me let go. “Of course not.”

“Why the hell not?”

“Why would I?” She lifted her chin. “I’m not taking him back, if that’s what you think, but closure would be nice.”

“Closure for what? You gave him the only closure he deserves that night we met in the bar.”

“Well. Yes. I suppose you’re right. I mean. Sure. I ended things. I meant it, too. But he deserves to know why.”

“No. No he doesn’t. He let you go. End of story. He can’t figure out why you gave him the boot, that’s on him. Not your responsibility. I mean, seriously, you’ve been here how long, and he only now calls?”

“Dane.”

“The guy’s a fuckin’ douche, you ask me.”

“Dane.”

“What kind of prick lets his woman fly clear across the country days after she’s lost her mother, to hang out with a bunch of strangers, and bring home a child that may or may not be the daughter of her long-lost sister. The sister she only just found out was dead.”

“Dane.”

“I get my hands on the pathetic piece of shit, I’ll—”

Smack. Moriah landed a hard whack across my cheek, effectively ending my tirade, unwittingly stirring my blood.

I glared at the wall over her head and counted,one,two,threebefore aiming my ire her way, preparing to warn her of all the reasons striking me was dangerous.

Before I could speak, the little minx grabbed my shirt, lifted up on her toes, and short circuited my brain with a punishing kiss. She pulled away for a brief moment, said, “I like you, too, Dane,” then attacked again.

I like you, too. That’s what she got out of my tirade? I grabbed her waist and spun, pinning her to the wall. Then I took control, showed her how dangerous I could be, biting, sucking, pinching, groping, dry humping her against the wall. And fuuuck, she took my advances like a champ.

Giggles came from the top of the stairs and I dropped Moriah like a hot potato. One deep breath and I looked over my shoulder.

Rocky and Mim stared down at us, bright smiles, and belly laughs, and hell if my face didn’t heat like an overworked engine.

“Shoot.” Moriah mumbled, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “Shoot.”

I looked down at her bright eyes, those red cheeks, those swollen lips, and hell if I didn’t laugh, too.

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