Truck Stop Tryst

by Daniels, Krissy

  Tango and Slade had been hinting at me to move upstairs to the main house. I suspected it was because they had little faith in my parenting abilities. I understood their concern. I was terrified myself, but I wasn’t about to disrupt their lives by forcing my bastard child on them. I’d been enough of a burden.

  “Down here is fine. Thanks for the offer. I know you’re trying to help, but I need to do this by myself.”

  “What’s this by myself crap? You’re not raising this baby alone. As long as you’re here, you’ve got family. Understand? Besides, we’ll be down here getting our greedy little fingers on that princess every chance we get.”

  I threw her my best fake laugh, topping it off with a wink. “I am so excited to meet her I can hardly stand it.”

  Fuck Slade and her sweet little personality, for making me love her so much. Fuck her for making me want to cry again. Fuck me for being such a sap. She’d seen me cry once already that morning, over a damn puppy food commercial. I wasn’t about to break down in front of her again. I turned my back and busied myself with the dog’s leash.

  “Lola upstairs already?” I asked, missing the mutt’s wet nose and morning licks.

  “Yeah. Rocky’s taking his dog sitting duties very seriously. He made up a corner for her in his bedroom.”

  Tucker hadn’t claimed his dog back after I’d rendered him unconscious and stole his Jeep three weeks ago. I was thankful for Lola’s company. Now that I’d gone back to work at The Stop, Rocky had taken it upon himself to babysit the mutt before and after school. Which was fine with me, because it gave me more Rocky time, too. The kid had grown on me, and taken root, like a wart. A cute wart.

  “Ready?”

  “Ready.”

  Ten minutes later, I stood in the diner, buttoning a special ordered, maternity chef’s coat, over my chest. Charlie and I had developed a smooth morning routine. I separated meat from the bone for the chicken soup. Charlie started the chili. We chopped, diced, sautéed, flipped, fried, laughed, told dirty jokes. We danced around the kitchen, a perfect partnership in our knife-riddled ballet.

  I passed a burger plate across the service counter when I heard a familiar laugh over the usual dining area racket. The laugh that had become one of my favorite sounds in the world.

  My gut twisted and churned. Pushing up on my toes to see over the counter, I scanned the rows of tables. In the far-left corner, in the special table boasting a picture of Slade’s mother and grandfather, Tucker sat with his back to me. Tuuli, the new waitress, stood at his side, smiling wide, a coffee carafe in each hand. Tucker’s fingers grazed her waist, and in a gesture far too intimate for two people who’d just met, he stuffed a folded piece of paper into her pocket.

  Like I’d taken a bullet to the chest, I stumbled backward, bumping into Charlie, who incidentally, and rather unfortunately, had been holding a stack of plates, which then, despite his desperate attempts to stay balanced, tipped over and crashed onto the stack of freshly washed milkshake glasses, causing a clatter that rivaled cathedral bells. The gentle giant tripped over his feet and dropped, like a nuclear bomb, on his ass. The entire building shook.

  Of course, profanities erupted from both our mouths. I squatted, to check Charlie was okay, when the baby decided to perform a backflip, causing me to lose balance and land on hands and knees, nose to crotch, in the giant’s lap.

  Because that wasn’t awkward enough, two beefy arms wrapped around my middle, pulled me off Mount Charlie, and set me on my feet.

  I was immediately overcome by a familiar woodsy scent. Tucker. Shit.

  I squeezed my eyes closed, willing him away.

  “I’ve nothing against blowjobs in the middle of the day, but not in the same room where you prepare my food.” Tucker laughed. “That’s just not sanitary.”

  My cheeks could’ve erupted hot lava. I glanced from Charlie, to Tucker, and back to Charlie, who was now in a fit of hysterics on the floor.

  I found no humor in the situation.

  I shoved past Tucker and made my escape, but not before flipping him off. “Not fucking funny, Cowboy.”

  Funniest damn thing I’d ever seen? Charlie’s face, while Aida struggled to wiggle out of his lap. The poor guy looked mortified. Aida, on the other hand, wore a murderous glare that stabbed me in all the right places.

  I should’ve chased after her, but I couldn’t in good conscience leave Charlie alone to clean the disaster. Glass and porcelain shards littered the kitchen, corner to corner, counter to floor. Even picked some out of Charlie’s hair.

  Slade jumped in to help, and between the three of us, we had everything back in working order in under twenty minutes.

  Aida had yet to come out of the office. Damn, how I wanted to be in there with her. Wasn’t about to push the issue though. Aida wasn’t the type of woman you pushed. Learned that the hard way. Still had a sore spot on my head to remind me. Figured three weeks was ample time for her to come to her senses. Obviously not. Girl was more stubborn than I’d suspected.

  I was about to head home when Slade grabbed my arm and pulled me out the back exit into the icy blast of winter. The door barely closed behind me when she shoved a palm into my chest.

  “Want to explain that little show with Tuuli?”

  “Little show?”

  “Don’t play innocent with me, Tuck. I saw it. Everyone saw it. You two were all over each other.”

  I wanted to laugh. Until I realized that Aida might have witnessed Tuuli’s blatant, and unconvincing sexual advances as well. And, dammit. That just pissed me the hell off. I loved my sister, but I wasn’t about to get ripped a new asshole for something I didn’t do.

  “Listen. I can see where you might’ve gotten the wrong idea. But let me assure you, nothing happened. Your new little waitress zeroed-in on me the second I walked through the front door. She even slipped me her number. I let her know I wasn’t interested and slipped it right back into her pocket. The only thing I’m guilty of is asking how her first day was going.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah. Oh.”

  Slade crossed her arms over her chest and offered a rueful grin. “I’m sorry.”

  I could’ve tortured her for a bit, but frankly, I already had one mad lady in my life, I certainly didn’t need another. “You’re forgiven.”

  “Should I fire her?”

  “No. Not on my account.”

  “Whew.” Slade dropped her arms and slumped in relief. “Thank goodness. She’s running circles around Margie today. It’s nice to have some fresh blood in here. Gonna tell me what’s going on between you and Aida?”

  “Not much to tell. She’s mad. It’ll pass.”

  “She misses you.”

  Fuck. I missed her too.

  “Don’t give up on her, Tuck.”

  “Not giving up. Just giving space.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Sometimes, space is the last thing we need.”

  “Did I just hear you right? Miss I’ll-talk-to-you-in-two-days-when-I’ve-cooled-my-jets.”

  “Listen. You’re right. I’m the kind of girl who sometimes needs space, especially when I’m mad at you. There’s a difference, though. My space has always existed inside the protective shield of loved ones. Tango and Rocky. You and your parents. My work family. Aida’s space is unguarded; I mean, we’re here, obviously, but she doesn’t get that, yet. In her world, there’s no border, there’s no support system surrounding her, and she’s just floating around out there in the great unknown, lost and alone. You need to show her that she’s not alone, no matter how hard she pushes, or how much she insists that she’s doing great on her own. Her personal space bubble will eventually get too big. She’ll be lost.”

  Not quite sure I understood what my sister was trying to say. What I did know, what resonated deep, was that without Aida, my heart was a black hole, sucking all my joy, and sense of purpose into its unfathomable depths. I was done with keeping my distance.

  I’d pretended to stay busy with work.
Hunted twice. Left two girls at the Compton ranch. Nothing filled the Aida-shaped hole in my soul. Not even beating the shit out of a pimp I’d “accidentally” bumped in to.

  “We done here?” I asked Slade. “I kinda need to be somewhere.”

  “Yeah. We’re done.” She gave me a squeeze. “Go get her, tiger.”

  We headed back inside. Slade passed her office door, turned and offered me a wink, then headed to the dining area, calling Tuuli’s name.

  Palms sweaty, I turned the knob and slowly pushed the door open. “Aida?”

  I felt the soft rush of wind pass my face, heard the dull thunk of something hit the wall behind me. Knew what it was without having to look. I ducked back behind the safety of the door. “C’mon now, Bambi. Violence isn’t necessary. Just wanna talk.”

  Thunk.

  Another knife embedded in the door above my fingers. Damn the girl had impeccable aim. Couldn’t ignore the swell of pride in my chest.

  Foolishly, I assumed it was safe to enter. When I stepped back into the line of fire, a third blade landed at my feet, stopping me in my tracks.

  “I’m not in the mood for talking.”

  I threw my palms up in surrender. “Okay. Okay. I get it. You’re not ready to see me.” When I finally rested my gaze on the beauty standing before me, I stumbled back a step. Fuck. Her baby bump had doubled in size. So had her breasts, but I tried not to focus on those. Not a good time.

  Cheeks flushed, chest raising and falling in short bursts, Aida stared me down. “What do you want?”

  I wasn’t about to back off, but damn, if looks could kill, I’d be dust. “Want to make sure you’re okay.”

  “I’m not your concern.”

  Christ. How long was she going to carry on her charade? “Okay then. How’s my dog? You taking good care of her?”

  Aida rested both hands on her hips and took a deep breath. “My dog is good. You no longer have a dog. She likes me better, so she’s mine.”

  “Fair enough.” I nodded in concession. Choose your battles wisely, I reminded myself. Besides, I had left Lola with her for a reason.

  “Anything else, Cowboy? I need to get back to work.” Aida waddled past me—and what a waddle it was—and plucked her knives out of the wall and door.

  Knowing she wouldn’t want to struggle in front of me, I squatted and picked her blade up off the floor. Without meeting my gaze, she held out her palm. When I handed her the knife, she elbowed past me, nose in the air, and headed toward the kitchen.

  I wasn’t ready to let her go. Damn, how I wanted to throw her on the couch and fuck the attitude right out of her. “I miss you.”

  Aida paused, her feet squeaking on the tile floor.

  Turn around, baby. Turn around.

  Aida shot me a glance over her shoulder, a small smirk playing on her face. Damn the girl was stubborn, and killing me.

  “I miss you, Bambi,” I repeated. Groveling idiot.

  Her smirk disappeared, and as I watched her retreat, she shouted over her shoulder, “I know.”

  “I didn’t know, Aida. I’m sorry. I never would’ve flirted with him.” Tuuli stood a safe distance away, shoulders slumped, nervously picking at the skin of her arm. Hips cocked, her right heel bounced off the floor like it had a mind of its own.

  Mousy little thing. Too bad. She was pretty, underneath the piles of bullshit she was feeding me. My inner lie detector was bouncing off the charts.

  “Didn’t know what?” I asked, clenching my fists at my sides.

  Tuuli stared at the floor. “That he was your boyfriend.”

  “Who said he was my boyfriend?” Why did my voice sound so high?

  “Tucker did. And then Slade.” She dropped her hands to her hips and sucked in a sharp breath. “I’m sorry. He was so nice to me. He didn’t have a wedding ring so I figured what the hell and wrote my number on a piece of paper. I tried giving it to him, but he said he was in a committed relationship, with you.”

  Hmm. The convo shifted from suspicious, to morbidly exciting. “He said that?”

  “I can’t lose this job. I’m not a slut or anything. I don’t go around giving my number to every guy I meet. I just. He just. I don’t know. He was so nice, and I’m new in town and my girlfriends said I needed to stop being so shy, and that I needed to flirt if I wanted good tips.”

  I couldn’t be mad. I would’ve done the same thing had the tables been turned. Tucker was eye candy, the kind that put you at risk for diabetes. Only, had I been the new waitress making the moves, I wouldn’t have taken no for an answer. I would’ve had the man trapped, pants to ankles, in the ladies room, tipping me in other ways.

  The old me would’ve done that, anyway. The new me? Well. The new me choked on the rush of motherly instinct rising in my throat, and instead of giving Tuuli the proverbial pat on the back, I instead said, “Listen. You can’t go around giving your number to strangers, especially at work. Besides being highly unprofessional, it’s also so, so dangerous. God, what if he was a serial killer or something, or some perverted old man who picks up young girls and sells them on the black market? You have to be careful.”

  Tuuli cringed. More than cringed. Curled in on herself. All color left her face, which was nearly impossible seeing as she was one of the palest girls I’d ever seen. She rubbed her stomach, gaze aimed at the floor. “I know. You’re right,” she half-squeaked, half-whispered.

  For the first time since she caught me in the hallway, she met my gaze. The girl had beautiful, stormy, ocean blue eyes. Eyes that had seen too much. Eyes that didn’t match her demeanor when she asked, “Is he your baby’s father?”

  Instinctively, protectively, my hands raised to my stomach. “It’s complicated.” I dropped my protective glare into place. “And none of your fucking business.”

  Why did I snap at her? Not sure. I was sure, though, that I didn’t trust the girl. I’d mastered the art of reading people at an early age, and this girl was hiding a novel’s worth of secrets. Tuuli whispered another I’m sorry, turned on her heels, and headed back to the dining room, leaving me to focus on my painful heartbeat, and Tucker’s haunting words. I miss you.

  I missed him, too. So much. Too much. More than I missed Tito. More than I missed my dead father. Or my old life.

  The baby missed him, too. When he’d been in the office earlier, she had started to move inside me at the sound of his voice. That was why I’d bolted, instead of hashing things out with him like I should’ve done. I couldn’t let him witness me breaking, and for reasons I didn’t understand, and certainly didn’t one hundred percent believe in, I needed to stand my ground.

  Tucker needed to know I wasn’t the kind of woman to bow to a man’s will.

  Although, shamefully, and most likely because of the stupid hormones, I wanted to.

  I wanted to lock her in the bedroom and fuck her into next week. I wanted my hands, my lips, my tongue, touching every inch of her round little body. I wanted Aida. My Bambi. I wanted us.

  I needed her under my roof. In my bed. Smiling at me from across the breakfast table—messy hair, swollen lips, sleepy eyes. I needed that surge of adrenaline I experienced every time she walked into my line of vision. More than anything, I needed her to need me, too.

  I watched, from Rocky’s bedroom window, as Tango walked Aida down the steps to her apartment door. I waited. Waited. Waited for Tango to come collect his son. I heard the back door open and close.

  “Well. This is it, Rockster. Wish me luck.” I pulled my little nephew into a bear hug, mussed his hair, and gave him a high-five.

  “Luck, Tuck,” he said before giggling at his rhyme. Then he hot-footed it down the stairs to his dad singing, “Luck, Tuck. Luck, Tuck.”

  I followed, calling Lola to come, offered Tango a quick handshake, and headed toward my certain humiliation. A worthy sacrifice, if it meant having Aida back in my arms.

  Fuck.

  I shook off my nerves, cleared my throat, and strummed my guitar. After knocking s
oftly, I parked my ass on the frozen cement stairs. Then I started to sing, hoping like fucking hell that Tango was too busy with his son to hear me. I belted out the lyrics to Gavin Degraw’s “Soldier.”

  My voice trembled. My long-neglected Martin was out of tune. I forced the lyrics anyway, and urged my rusty fingers to move against the biting cold.

  I’d come nearly to the end of the song, the line about never surrendering, when the door opened.

  My beauty, my fucking soul, leaned against the doorjamb, and crossed her naked legs at the ankles. Arms crossed, head down. My goddamned flannel jacket wrapped around her like a security blanket.

  It took everything in me to stay where I was. To choke out the last lyrics. And to pray she was getting the message. I’m here to stay. I got you.

  Tear-soaked lashes lifted, revealing those big fucking doe eyes I missed so much.

  And when she smiled. God, when she smiled, I was done for. Her gaze dropped to my hands, raked the length of the guitar, and landed on Lola. She tilted her head, her smile turning into a devilish smirk. “C’mon, girl,” she said, opening the door wider for Lola to enter.

  I was frozen in place, dumbstruck, awed, overwhelmed by her beauty. Aida raised one of her delicate deadly hands to her face and wiped the moisture from her cheeks. Our eyes locked. My heart calmed. Her cheeks flushed.

  Like the soul knows its maker, I knew deep and true, that whatever it was that drew us together, however many obstacles we’d be forced to decimate, Aida and I were bound by destiny, and we were going to be okay. We’d been planned from the beginning of time. Our names had been written in the stars.

  I would fight until my dying breath to make her understand that, too.

  And because I knew she would be my soldier, every bit as much as I would be hers, I whispered, “I need you, Bambi,” trusting that she wouldn’t let me down.

  I pushed to my feet on her sharp inhalation.

  “Say it again.” Aida gripped the lapels of her jacket.

  “I need you.”