Page 34 of Truck Stop Titan
Although, the unexpected opportunities did seem to pose more challenges than I was capable of handling.
I glanced over my shoulder. Mim stood at the window, fingers pressed to the glass. She hadn’t moved for at least ten minutes.
“Hey, Mim.” I made a slow approach, careful not to startle her. “What’re you looking at?”
She didn’t cower when I came to her side, and sweet Lord, that made my heart soar. I pulled the lacy curtain aside and glanced down at the expansive yard.
Sweeping left to right, I found the target of her attention. Dane. Shirtless. Covered in ink. Mostly black and white, with a few splashes of color. Muscles taut. God. I’d been naked in bed with the man, but I hadn’t really seen him naked. We’d been in the dark both times he’d… I shook the thought away, my cheeks heating.
He was beautiful, in a tragic sort of way. Thick with bulk that seemed more armor than vanity. A scowl on his face that looked more like contrition than concentration. He forced a shovel into the ground, scooped the grass and dirt, and then tossed it into the pile at his side, his muscles flexing and rolling and bunching and… Oh, God. I had to stop.
“Mim.” My breath fogged the glass.
She ignored me.
“It’s so pretty outside. You feel like going down to the beach, or maybe I could push you on the swing?”
No response.
“Dane sure does look thirsty. He probably needs a big glass of water. You think we should bring him some water?”
The little girl gasped, then ran to the bed and found her shoes. In a dash, she was down the hall and headed toward the kitchen.
I chased behind, watching her wild hair bounce across her back, unbrushed, untamed, so much like Mickey. We reached the empty kitchen, and she knew right where to go, sliding a step stool across the tile and climbing up to reach the cupboard where the glasses lived.
Vile jealousy rolled through me, and I hated that weakness. Would she ever respond to me the way she responded to Dane or Rocky?
“Hey. It’s almost lunch time. I bet he’s hungry, too. Maybe we should make some sandwiches.” I knew better than to wait for a reaction.
While she filled a glass with ice, then water, I pulled bread out of the cupboard, then dug through the fridge, happy to find sliced cheese and deli meats. Clueless to his palate, I found the mustard and mayo, lettuce, pickles, too, and laid everything on the counter.
“What do you think he likes? Ham, salami, turkey, or maybe all three?”
Mim pushed the stool next to me and climbed up. She seemed to contemplate her choices, then lifted bright eyes to mine, and pointed to the ham.
“Ham it is.”
“Think he likes mustard?”
She nodded.
“Mustard it is.”
We continued that way until we’d made three sandwiches, all varying combinations, one of them extra heavy on the pickles.
“Three sandwiches should be enough to fill him. Now, what about you?” I laid two slices of bread in front of her. “What do you want to eat?”
She shook her head, then climbed down the stool and headed for the pantry and disappeared behind the door. She came out seconds later with a bag of corn chips and a paper plate.
“Good thinking. Boys love chips!” I piled the sandwiches on the plate, grabbed the glass of water, and together Mim and I headed outside.
We passed Lettie and James on the way. The couple pretended they hadn’t been hanging back in the hallway, giving my niece and me our space.
“Hi, guys.” I winked. “We’re just taking Dane some lunch. We’ll clean our mess as soon as we get back, right Mim?”
Mim continued through the door, a healthy spring in her step.
The stench of cigarette smoke permeated the air. When Dane noticed us coming his way, he drove the shovel straight into the earth, and rested an arm across the handle. A white cancer stick hung from his lips. My stomach soured.