Page 75 of Truck Stop Titan

“Far enough you could tell.”

“No.” I covered my mouth with one hand. “No, no, no, no, no.”

“Moriah. You can’t fall apart right now.”

“My sister.” Fisting his shirt, I released a silent scream into his chest, my sanity slipping, my coping abilities dwindling.

Tears didn’t fall, but my body shook, as if desperate to rid my skin of all the bad juju. Dane curled his arms around me, one pinning my head to his chest, the other securing my body tight, bearing the weight I could no longer manage.

Lips to my hair, he mumbled, “Mim is scared of losing you, too. That’s why she freaked.” Soft kisses dotted my head, the affection both exhilarating and maddening.

“We’ll hash this out with Mim later. Right now, you have to get ready for work. Focus on that. I’ve got Little One today. You go make a good impression with Pretty Boy and his old man.”

“Yeah. Yeah. You’re right.” I pushed away, avoiding eye contact, and dragged my feet to my closet, confident and grateful that Dane had everything under control.

Dane stayed close while I dressed. He poured me coffee while I buttered my toast. We didn’t talk about the baby, or where he’d been, subjects neither of us seemed ready to broach, but his troubled glare landed on my midsection more than once.

Tension hovered like a black cloud in the room, and I should’ve filled the quiet with all the questions I wanted to ask or spilled my worries about the pregnancy at his feet or confessed my hurt and anger that he’d stayed away for days.

I remained silent.

Honestly, I was just thankful he’d come, and that I wouldn’t lose my job on the second day.

As I made my way out the door, I braved a glance his way. He stood in my living room, features stoic, arms hanging at his sides, brutal and larger than life. Mim’s guardian angel. My savior.

Words bubbled up my throat, and I swallowed them back down. He’d come for us, again.

Despite the tension between us, there was no doubt that everything would be okay.

One step at a time. One day at a time. Mim and I would rise above.

# # #

I hadn’t the heart to watch Dane put Mim to bed, my wounded ego getting the better of me. Instead, I hid my hurt under the impressive spray falling from the giant shower head that hung from the ceiling of my lavish master bathroom.

Store-brand shampoo seemed unfitting in my new surroundings, a space that should have cost more than I could afford, even with my gracious new salary. Later, I’d have to ask Dane how he found the rental at such a steal. Then again, maybe the less I knew, the better. My grandma used to say, “Never look a gift horse in the mouth.” So instead of ruminating, I enjoyed my shower, and my bargain body wash.

The bathroom door opened. A throat cleared. I waited.

When the silence became unnerving, I peeked around the glass partition.

Dane paced the small space, his bare feet blazing a loop-de-loop on the gray slate floor.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah.” He worked a hand through his beard and shot me a nervous glance. “Mim’s out cold.”

“Good. Thank you.” I got back to scrubbing, forcing my jealousy and hurt and anger into the background.

Dane continued with the back and forth, his large form casting a daunting shadow, andoh my god, how I’d missed him the past few days, and damn him for dropping Mim and me off in our new home and then—poof—leaving me alone to wonder if he hated me or not.

Another throat clear. “How are you…um…feeling?” One of his large hands landed on the glass.

“Effin’ great,” I shot back, unable to bridle the bite in my tone.

“You decide what you’re gonna do?” His voice wavered.

What wasIgoing to do?I, as in me. Alone. God, that hurt, and I didn’t want Dane to have the power to hurt me. “I’m going to shave my legs, then crawl into bed.”

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