Truck Stop Tango

by Daniels, Krissy

My cousin, Tito, answered on the first ring. “T. What’s up?”

  The gruff voice centered me. “I need more time.”

  After a long silence, he huffed. “You lost your mom. Take as much time as you need. I can handle things on this end. I’ll talk to Luciano. I’m sure he won’t be too upset.”

  Upset? He’d be irate. Probably kill me, but shit, Slade wasn’t over me, not by a long shot. I sure as hell wasn’t over her, evident by the tight knot in my chest, and the fact that I hadn’t felt this alive in years. I’d welcome a thousand deaths for one more shot with my girl.

  “Sorry I couldn’t be there, man,” he said, interrupting my musings.

  Tito managed Luciano’s underground fights. His was a respected position in the Voltolini family that, unfortunately, didn’t allow for time off, even to pay last respects to his aunt.

  “Don’t sweat it. Don’t want Luciano pissed at both of us.”

  Tito chuckled. “Tango, I gotta ask, did you see your girl?” Tito had spent three weeks every summer with my family. He’d had a thing for Slade, too. It had never bothered me though. Even then, he’d known she was mine, and he’d never crossed a line.

  “Yeah.” I scrubbed a hand over my face. Seen her. Felt her. Tasted her.

  “She as hot as I remember?” he asked, ruffling my feathers whether he meant to or not.

  Heat rushed through me. “You have no fucking idea.” I had to get home before I turned around, climbed through her window, and blew off steam the good old fashioned way. “Listen, I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  “See you tomorrow. Thanks, Slade,” Maurice McReary shouted across the dining room. He slipped through the door, giving the old cowbell an extra rattle, as was his custom.

  I waved goodbye and plucked the quarter and three pennies off the corner table. Twenty-eight cents. Every morning, for as long as I could remember, Maurice would drink two and a half cups of coffee—sugar, no cream—and leave a twenty-eight cent tip. When we’d ask him about it, he’d laugh and say, “Everyone needs their secrets.”

  Someday, I’d get him to tell me the story behind the twenty-eight cents. Not today. Today, it drained all my energy to smile at people.

  I yawned and passed the empty mug and saucer across the stainless steel partition separating the dining area from the kitchen. Charlie’s crooked grin greeted me. “Why so sleepy, boss? It’s not like you to drag your butt the way you been doin’ today. Rough night?”

  Oh, if he only knew. Tango Rossi. Slimy bastard. Why the hell had I kissed him?

  “Rocky was too wired after all the soda and candy you guys let him eat. He kept me up half the night,” I lied. Truth was, my little guy had crashed before I’d wrestled him into his pajamas.

  Charlie chuckled his deep, throaty chuckle I loved so much. “That wasn’t my doing. I warned Tuck. Told him he’d suffer the wrath of big, bad mama bear if he gave the cub too much junk food.”

  “Oh, yeah? I’m mama bear now?” I played along. “What’d he say?”

  “Something about you being nothing but a soft, fuzzy bunny.” Charlie cracked two eggs on the grill with one hand and flipped pancakes with the other.

  I rolled my eyes and turned to greet the guest who had just entered. Had I not been surrounded by customers, I would’ve yelled something like, “Holy fucking shit. What the hell are you doing here?” Instead, I croaked, “Oh, good morning, Kaylee. Haven’t seen you in, like, forever.”

  “Hi, Slade.” She surveyed the restaurant.

  I took the opportunity to check her out. The girl had certainly matured physically. If I wasn’t mistaken, she’d gotten a boob job. Her nose looked smaller, too. “You look good,” I exclaimed, in my sweetest voice. My least favorite thing about owning the Truck Stop was that I had to be nice, all the time, no matter who walked through the door.

  “Thanks, girl.” She stopped perusing the patrons and gave me a once over. “How are you? Working hard, I suppose. The place looks great.” She smacked a pink wad of gum between her lips. “I didn’t see you at the funeral yesterday. Of course, it was packed. Everyone in town was there. Maybe we just missed each other.”

  “Yeah.” I nodded. I wasn’t about to explain to anyone, especially her, why I didn’t go. “Are you meeting someone? You want a table, or the counter?”

  Her eyes met mine with a snap. “Just grabbing a cup of coffee, on my way to see Mr. Rossi. I’m taking over Marta’s classes at the studio until he decides what to do with it.”

  “Oh, hey. I watched you on that dance show last summer. Wow.” I shook my head for dramatic effect. “You blew me away. Third place. I mean. Holy crap. That’s pretty amazing, right?”

  Her cheeks reddened. “Yes. Just got home from the tour a couple weeks ago.”

  “Are you staying in town for a while?” I asked.

  “I think so.” She lifted her cell and thumbed the screen. Clearly, I wasn’t worthy of her attention anymore.

  “Alrighty, then.” I rolled my eyes. “Let me get your coffee.”

  I filled a to-go cup. She turned to look out the window and shifted nervously in her red flats. I stared in awe at her powerful legs. Her poise. Her perfect figure. She was a beautiful dancer. I used to watch her for hours at the studio while Tango and I studied. Too often, Marta would ask Tango to partner with Kaylee. He hated dancing with other girls. I hated watching him dance with other girls, but hot-damn, the boy could move, and when he was moving, I had no choice but to watch. The two of them together were breathtaking.

  His mother had thought so too. She’d made it clear from the beginning that Kaylee was the girl Tango should’ve given his heart to.

  “Here you go.” I pushed the coffee across the counter. “On the house. Good luck with your meeting.”

  “Thanks.” She didn’t even glance up from her phone. “Tango looks amazing, huh?”

  Damn. I’d rather she slapped me in the face than bring him up. “No. I mean. I don’t know.”

  Hard to tell what shone brighter, her eyes or her smile. “Wow. You two haven’t seen each other, have you?”

  Her question fell under the category titled: None of Your Damn Business. I sensed what would come next and braced for impact.

  “God, Slade. That breaks my heart.” She had the gall to slap her right hand above her left breast. I wasn’t fooled. The glimmer in her eyes didn’t reflect heartbreak. Not even a little bit.

  “I guess he truly is over you. No wonder he was so sweet and attentive last night. Felt good having his arms around me again.”

  I took a step back. Fire licked my cheeks. “Arms around you?” I gripped my shirt hem to keep from clutching my chest. Who stuck the sword through my heart? Why did her petty words hurt? I needed Tango to be gone. He could have his arms around any woman he wanted, as long as it was not her and not in my town.

  Kaylee tucked her bright pink phone into her fuchsia Gucci bucket purse and slapped her perfectly manicured hand to her cheeks. Surprise, surprise, her nails were painted a lively shade of rose, same shade as her shiny gloss. “Seriously, he danced like he wanted to fuck me.”

  I stumbled back a step and raised my fingers to my lips. They tingled, still sensitive from the impromptu workout Tango had given them last night. Apparently, his lips needed more stimulation, seeing as he had run to her the second I’d chased him away.

  She’d always been jealous. A snide, catty opportunist. Never before had she weaseled her way under my skin.

  The pink bitch stepped closer. “Does it hurt, knowing you’re not his girl anymore? Nobody could believe he had just up and left you. What’d you do to him, anyway?”

  A deep voice boomed behind me, thick with anger, “I told you last night, it was none of your business.” Strong fingers encased my trembling hand, offering an assuring squeeze, or perhaps a warning not to rip her pretty throat out. “And Kaylee, Slade will always be my girl. Don’t ever fucking forget that.”

  She stared over my head at the man pressed firmly against my backside. First co
nfusion, then defeat darkened her features. “Okay. Your girl.” She nodded and quirked her brow. Without so much as a glance at me, she turned on her heel and plowed through the door.

  I reclaimed my hand, whipped around, and came nose to chest with the hard body I wanted to both jump and dismember at the same time.

  The bastard smelled like he’d been in the sun for hours, reminding me of the summer days we’d spent on the lake. “How’d you get in?”

  Tango hooked a finger under my chin and urged me to look up. I did, dammit. Oh, if only I could trade my vagina for something less girly—like a bear trap.

  He shrugged his shoulders. “Charlie let me in through the back. Just like old times.”

  “He’s fired.” I realized I hadn’t moved, and stood too damn close to the enemy. The restaurant fell eerily silent. I looked over my shoulder. Every eye in the place was on us. “Great, just great,” I mumbled and pushed at him. “I’m working. You need to go.” He didn’t budge. My butt smashed into the counter behind me.

  He stepped closer, invading my personal space, and cupped my cheek, brushing a thumb across my lip. “I can’t go yet,” he said, leaning closer than should be legal. My mouth parted on exhale, opening for him. Our eyes locked, rendering me speechless, breathless, helpless. Dear God, if he kissed me again, I’d be done for.

  His lips hovered over mine, then a crooked smile broke the trance. Tango reached around, grabbed a menu, and wiggled his brows. “I’m hungry. Think I’ll stay for breakfast.”

  I was about to protest when Rocky barreled through the door. “Mom! Guess what?”

  The blood in my head whooshed to my feet as if I were a giant toilet that’d just been flushed. I gripped the counter for balance.

  Rocky stopped dead when he spied Tango. “Whoa!” he shouted. “You’re ginormous.”

  Tango crossed his arms and looked down. Hard to tell whether it was disgust or dismay scrunching his face. He studied my boy, then crouched and extended a hand. “I’m Tango Rossi. Who might you be?”

  Rocky stepped closer and gave him a high five in place of a shake. “Rocky James Mason.”

  Oh dear God, my worst nightmare. Played like a horror movie right before my eyes.

  Tango glanced my way, then mussed Rocky’s hair. “Great name, kid.” He stood and backed away, burning a hole through my skull with his scrutinizing glare.

  Marion waddled up. “I’m sorry, Slade. My mother slipped and fell. I need to get to the hospital.” Marion was nearing seventy. Her mother had celebrated her ninetieth birthday last summer and had only recently moved into a retirement home.

  “Oh, Marion. I’m sorry, go. Go. Rocky’s fine with me today.”

  Talk about epic, shitty timing.

  Marion pulled Rocky in for a hug and scurried back through the door.

  Rocky’s shoulders slumped. “Aw, man. We were gonna go to the park and the beach today.”

  “I’m sorry, babylove.”

  Tango stepped between me and Rocky. “You know what? I was planning on going to the beach today. How about I take you?”

  No! No! No! I’d never fainted, but I was pretty sure it was about to happen.

  “Can I, Mom?” Rocky jumped up and down. “Please, please, please.”

  I opened my mouth to speak, but when Tango scooped Rocky into his arms, like it was the most natural thing in the world, I lost my voice.

  “Mom says yes. Is that your gear?” He patted Rocky’s backpack.

  “Yup.” My son, in all his dangerous, youthful innocence, straightened his spine and nodded his head.

  “It’s settled then,” Tango proclaimed, his hard biceps bulging as he squeezed my boy tighter.

  “Wait—” I started to protest.

  Tango shut me up by pressing a finger to my mouth, smashing my already tender lips. “What time you off?”

  “Four,” Charlie shouted from the kitchen, betraying me in ways he couldn’t fathom. Ooh, he was so fired.

  “We’ll be back by four.” Tango didn’t let me respond. Before I could make my jaw move, the boys were halfway out the door. Tango stopped and turned to me, an unholy fire lighting his smile. “I’m on to you, girl. We’re gonna talk.”

  With that, Tango left. With my son.

  I stood, helpless, speechless, boneless, and I knew, because life hated me, I knew, that moment was the beginning of my end.

  SUCK IT, LIFE.

  Six o’clock in the freaking morning. I stood on my porch, waving goodbye to my little man, scrunching my face to fight the tears.

  You’re doing the right thing, I reminded myself. The sooner Rocky was out of town, the better. I needed him safe, and far away, so I could think straight and navigate the damn nightmare I was living.

  Letting Rocky go away for two weeks was harder than I’d imagined. Not running after Tucker’s Jeep as they drove down my street took will power I hadn’t known existed. Yay me.

  My house was eerily quiet and achingly empty. I dragged my butt up the stairs and buried myself under the blankets of my queen-sized bed. Facing the day seemed an insurmountable task.

  Last night, Rocky had talked non-stop, retelling stories from his beach day with Tango. He’d come home with a new football, too, and had made me play catch for an hour after dinner.

  Tango had spoken two words to me when he’d dropped off Rocky. “Hey,” and “goodnight.” His scrutinizing glare had spoken volumes. He knew. I mean, how could he not? And if he hadn’t put two and two together, it was only a matter of time.

  I’d never been able to lie to him, and I used to love that he knew me so intimately. Now I hated how our lives were like an overgrown patch of blackberry bushes—tangled, massive, and impossible to separate. We were intertwined, and it’d take a miracle to unsnarl us. Or, a herd of ravenous, angry goats.

  Thank Heaven it was my day off. It’d been years since I stayed in bed all morning, and I couldn’t think of a safer thing to do. It was time to initiate Operation: Avoid Tango.

  I rolled over and slid my nightstand drawer open. My hand shook when I reached inside and felt for the framed picture. My eyes blurred, overflowing with pesky tears. I wiped them away with my sheet and studied the old photo.

  In the glossy five-by-seven, I stood between Addy and her cousin, Dane. Addison’s arm hung lazily around my neck. Auburn hair fell in chunky layers over her shoulders, framing her round, hazel eyes and perky button nose. My mom had taken the photo the morning before Senior Prom. Addy and I had spent the day getting “beautified,” as she’d liked to call it. Not that she’d needed any help. That girl was a natural beauty, and she had learned how to work her sex appeal. There wasn’t a guy in school who hadn’t tried to get in her pants, or at least brag that they had, whether it was true or not.

  I never thought it’d be possible to love someone with all your heart, and at the same time, hate them with your entire soul, but those were my feelings about her. Addy had betrayed me, on the most important night of my life. Bad as that memory was, it wasn’t the worst of what our friendship had endured.

  “You’re not over me.”

  I knew the source of the deep, rich voice without having to look up. How pathetic was it that he hadn’t even startled me?

  “You haven’t forgiven me.”

  I slunk deeper into the sheets, pulling them up to my chin. “What are you doing here?” I asked, embarrassed by the quiver in my tone. Did he come to tear my world to shreds? I couldn’t blame him. I’d have done the same, had the tables been turned.

  Tango stood at the foot of my bed, legs apart, massive arms folded across his chest. Navy running pants hung low on his waist and stretched around his legs, highlighting the dips and bulges of his matured, and remarkably virile thighs.

  I was screwed. “I’m trying to sleep. Come back later if you want to chit-chat.”

  He huffed. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Fine. Stay if you want. Just be quiet. I haven’t slept past five-thirty AM in five years. Don’t you dare
ruin this beautiful moment for me.”

  Tango responded by kicking off his shoes.

  I rolled to my side and pulled the sheet over my head.

  The mattress dipped behind me.

  Why was he torturing me? Why didn’t he just say what he came to say?

  “You didn’t lock your door.”

  I whipped the sheet off my body and rolled with a bounce to face him. “Oh my God. Enough already. Why are you here? You’re killing me.”

  Tango lay on his back, hands clasped behind his head, legs stretched long and crossed at the ankles. The boy who had left six years ago with my heart and guts had returned a man. From head to toe he radiated power, sexual prowess, and control.

  “The kid looks like me.”

  The axe was about to fall. I prayed he’d be merciful.

  “The kid has a name,” I said through gritted teeth. A name Tango knew well.

  “Green eyes, dark hair.” He laughed and shook his head. “Hell, he even has my throwing arm.”

  A thick lump swelled in my throat.

  “Brett told me you’d gone away and returned with a son.”

  My hands trembled. I bunched them in the blankets on my lap.

  “Did you give yourself to the first guy you could find who looked like me?”

  What? My heart stopped beating.

  “Was it a revenge fuck? Were you trying to get back at me? Kind of backfired, don’t you think? The shit head couldn’t even stick around and be a father to his child?”

  Relief washed through me, along with a cleansing breath. “Tango. I … I—”

  “Let me finish,” he interrupted, and sat up, pulling my hand into his. “I need you to listen.”

  I nodded.

  “I fucked up that night. I fucked up in the worst way. Shit. I can’t even explain what happened. I drank too much. I was graduating with honors and a full ride. I was the fucking man.” He huffed and shook his head. “I had been looking for you. You had said you needed to talk to me and you’d looked nervous. Addy showed up. She said you’d left, and she gave me the note. I was too shit-faced to read it. She read it for me. Addy said you were letting me go, that it hurt too much that I was leaving for college, leaving you behind. Said you didn’t want to see me again. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I looked everywhere for you. And then I saw you. On the back of Dane’s bike. Your arms around him. Tore my fucking heart out. I was angry, and drunk, and—”