Truck Stop Tryst Page 4

  “Well?” She snapped her fingers in my face. “Have you?”

  “I’m sorry,” I said, blinking away my lust haze. “Have I what?”

  “Ever fucked a lot lizard?” She stared at me like I was the star attraction at Freak-Du-Soleil.

  “No. God, no.” I crumpled a napkin. I hated that term, lot lizard.

  Aida leaned forward, crossing her arms on the table. “Have you been approached by any?”

  “Sure. It happens.” The girl was striking too close to home. What the hell did she know about lot lizards anyway?

  “Ever been tempted?” she asked.

  Heat crept up my neck, landed on my cheeks. “No. And what’s your fascination with truck stop whores?” I winced. Whores. I hated that term, too. Victims would be more accurate.

  Her lips parted slightly and her eyes seemed to lose focus. “I was just curious. Seems you’d get lonely out there on the road.”

  “What’s this really about?”

  “Nothing.” She waved a hand and sat back in her chair.

  “Aida. You can’t lie for shit. What’s eating you?”

  She cocked her head. “The truth?”

  “That would be good.” Her lips on mine would be better. For obvious reasons, I didn’t voice my thoughts.

  “You’re too nice. I’m trying to find the flaw.”

  I had my share of defects. Wasn’t letting her anywhere near them. “I’m an open book, Bambi. What you see is what you get.” I stretched my arms wide and shot her a wink.

  Her eyes brightened, gaze dropping to my chest. Then her blush returned, boosting my ego to the moon. I wanted to flex my pecs, but that might have been overkill.

  With a challenging glower, she stood. “Oh, Tucker. If there’s one thing I know, it’s trouble. And you are a shit-storm wrapped in a pretty package.” She plucked the butter knife off the table and twirled it between her fingers. “I’m bored, and that makes me dangerous.” She tossed the utensil in the air and caught it by the handle, her glare never leaving mine. “I’m going to enjoy unearthing your secrets.”

  “A challenge, then.” I stood, too, and caught a whiff of her cotton candy scent, sending my thoughts straight down the gutter. “Bring it on, Bambi.”

  The knife to my throat was a surprise. Not because there was a knife to my throat—it was only a butter knife after all—but because she’d moved so fast.

  “Call me Bambi again, and I’ll go backwoods hunter all over your pretty face.” She blinked her doe eyes at me and flashed a soul-gutting smile before patting my cheek. “You shaved. Looks good.”

  Aida set the knife on the table, turned, and sauntered toward the door.

  It was a damn good thing she was leaving town soon, because after that morbid display of affection, I wanted nothing more than to drag her home and tame that feisty ass.

  I absolutely did not need the complication.

  But damn, how I wanted Aida Voltolini.

  I caught up with her halfway through the parking lot. She wore a sheer, billowy black tank top, black shorts, and lace up boots that accentuated her tan, shapely legs.

  A black, sixty-five Impala turned into the lot, catching my eye. Instead of slowing, the driver sped up, throwing dust and gravel, missing Aida by only a few feet. She stumbled backward. I caught her before her ass hit the ground.

  “Jesus. Fucking. Christ,” I hissed. “You okay?” I set her back on her feet.

  “I’ll kill that fucker.” Aida took off toward the now parked car. I wrenched an arm around her waist. “Whoa, there. I got this. Stay here.”

  I reached the car as the man stepped out. Buzz cut, beard, combat boots. Swastika tat on his neck. Shit. I’d seen a group of kids with the same ink running around town. Brainless fuckers were nothing but trouble.

  “Hey, man.” He greeted me with a chin nod.

  Not a good time for pleasantries. “You almost ran over a pregnant woman.”

  He shot a glance at Aida then back to me. “That spic bitch?”

  Fist to temple I struck, acting on instinct and rage, and dropped the shit-head to the ground. “Get the fuck up,” I ordered. “Get in your car, drive away, and never come back. You’ve got ten seconds before I tear those tats from your skin with my teeth.”

  The kid scrambled to his feet and spit blood at my boots. I shoved him backward into the car and slammed the door. No doubt, had he not been alone, I’d have a bloody fight on my hands. He revved the engine and tore out of the lot faster than he’d come in.

  “With your teeth?” Aida stood, arms crossed, mild amusement in her eyes. “Not very sanitary.”

  She wore a killer smirk. Swear to my Maker, there was a new twinkle in her eye.

  “Yeah. Well, I made my point.” I wrapped an arm around her shoulders and headed toward the hill. “I’ll walk you home.”

  I could’ve driven her the short jaunt, but I needed to cool my jets.

  Aida shrugged off my arm. “Nice right hook. You a fighter?”

  “No.” Not in the traditional sense of the word.

  “Too bad.”

  “Why?” I stepped in front of her and stopped, gripping her shoulders, and dipping my head to get a good look at those damn eyes. “Would that turn you on?”

  “God, no.” Again, and more aggressively than the last time, she shook free of my touch, but not before I caught a glimpse of humor in the pull of her lips.

  “Liar.”

  “Liar!” I shouted into the computer, slamming my hands against the oak desk. “Tell the truth, Tits, or I swear to God, I’ll cut out your tongue and tie it in a neat little bow around those hairy balls of yours.” I couldn’t believe what he was telling me.

  The bastard only laughed, feigning humor that didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ve missed you, Princess.” I heard a bang. Tito’s face disappeared for a second, then came back into view. “Aida, baby. I’m sorry. That’s all the info I’ve got for you. Looks like you’re stuck in Idaho indefinitely.” I heard two pops, and Tito jumped. “Shit. I gotta go.”

  “Wait. Were those gunshots?” I grabbed the edges of my laptop, shaking it as if it’d bring the black screen back to life. “Tits, answer me.”

  I heaved my computer across the room, leaving a hefty dent in the wall. My arms trembled, my head swelled with rage. “I am not having my baby in this shitty town!” I screamed, and took out my frustrations on a stack of library books, throwing some, ripping pages from others. Then I made my way to the kitchen, rifling through my drawer of silver ware, dropping forks and spoons to the floor until I found what I was looking for. A steak knife. Cheap and factory made, but it would do.

  “Fuck you, Daddy,” I growled, throwing the knife at the white wall. Its tip stuck for a split second before falling to the floor. I grabbed the piece of shit off the tile and threw again, harder this time. The blade fell short of my mark and ricocheted off the refrigerator, missing my leg by an inch. “Fuck!”

  I needed my blades.

  I retrieved the knife and threw again, targeting the front door. The blade stuck, the door opened, and Tango barreled through.

  He plucked the knife from the wood. “What the hell?”

  “What do you want?”

  “I heard screaming.” He glanced around the torn-up room. “What’s happening, Princess?”

  “I just ended a Skype call with Tito. Did you know?” I planted fisted hands on my hips.

  Tucker slithered in behind Tango. “Everything okay down here?”

  Hard as it was, I refused to look his way, aiming my anger straight at Tango. “When were you planning on telling me? After the baby?”

  “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

  “Dad went underground. Shut down all communication. I’m stuck here for God knows how long. Don’t pretend you didn’t know.”

  “Aida. Have I ever lied to you? This is the first I’m hearing of it. Did Tito give you any details?”

  Tango never lied. His honesty, however brutal, was on
e of the few things in my life I could one hundred percent count on.

  I drew a deep breath, attempting to calm my vibrating nerves. “No. Just that he’d be out of touch for a while, and I needed to stay put.” I squinted my face to hold back the threatening tears. “I heard gunshots, Tango. Right before he ended the call.”

  “Hey.” He stepped closer and grabbed my shoulders. “I’ll get a hold of Tito, see what I can find out.” He kissed my cheek. “There are worse places you could be stuck. So please, for the baby, try not to worry.”

  I nodded and leaned into the comfort of his arms. His tension didn’t go unnoticed.

  When I looked up, Tucker was gone.

  “Come on.” He urged me toward the door. “Dinner is ready.”

  I followed my reluctant babysitter upstairs. Slade, Tucker, and Rocky were seated at the table. Tango fell into the chair next to Slade, leaving me no choice but to sit next to the burly blond.

  “Hey, chubby.” Slade smiled, passing me an overfilled plate of lasagna, salad, and bread. “Hope you’re hungry.”

  Tucker’s head snapped my direction and our eyes met. He smirked and mouthed, “Chubby?” at me, then made quick work of filling his plate.

  “Auntie Aida, Auntie Aida,” Rocky said, bouncing in his seat. “I start school in two days.” He held up two fingers. “I got a new backpack and crayons and new shoes, and I can run really fast in them.”

  His excitement was infectious, and I couldn’t help but feel happy right along with him. “That’s great, Rocky. Can I see your new stuff after dinner?”

  “Yeah.” He shoved a forkful of meaty sauce into his mouth.

  Dinner was pleasant, despite my turbulent state of mind. Given the company, I should’ve enjoyed myself. Instead, I struggled to make it through the meal without collapsing into full nuclear meltdown.

  Dad was in trouble. I felt it in my gut, buzzing and churning like a shaken beehive. I wasn’t naive. Most people didn’t live long in the life I’d been raised. Although I was under constant protection, Dad had never shielded me from the ugly underbelly of his business. In fact, he had groomed me for survival. That instinct he had honed was telling me things were going to get worse before they got better.

  God, I needed my knives.

  After dinner, I said my goodbyes and snuck downstairs while Tucker was wrestling on the floor with his nephew. I fell into the overstuffed couch and rubbed my stomach, the weight of the world pressing me deeper into the cushions. I wasn’t cut out to be a mother, yet there I sat, knocked up, with no baby-daddy to support me through the scary plight. For the first time in my life, I was terrified.

  A soft knock saved me from what was sure to be an epic pity party.

  Tucker greeted me when I opened the door, all smiles, wrinkled T-shirt, and rumpled hair. Arms crossed, he leaned against the wall. “Chubby, huh?”

  I mimicked his pose. “What?”

  “Slade gets to call you Chubby. Tango calls you Princess. I get a knife to my throat for calling you Bambi.”

  I stepped back and gestured for him to come in. Always the gentleman, Tucker waited for me to go first, then closed and locked the door behind him.

  “Bambi? I mean, come on. Sounds like a seventies porn star.”

  His head jerked back with a disgusted chuckle. “Porn? Really? That’s where your mind goes? I’m thinking Disney, you’re thinking Debbie Does Dallas?”

  I knew hundreds of porn stars. A few, I even liked. Dad had a thing for them. They had a thing for his money. I learned everything there was to know about makeup art from three of the “actresses” he had dated over the years.

  “I’ve never seen a Disney movie,” I grumbled. Settling back into my favorite spot on the couch, I patted the cushion. “Make yourself comfortable.”

  He fell into the love seat across from me, feet planted on the floor, knees falling wide, hands clasped behind his head.

  I swallowed the extra saliva in my mouth.

  The man was downright edible.

  “What’s eating you, Aida?” I strained not to stare at her perfect breasts.

  “What do you mean?” she asked, coy and unconvincing.

  “You were unusually docile during dinner.” Every other time I’d seen her in public, her fake smile was set like stone, her gregarious mask set to high-watt.

  “Is that why you’re here?”

  “I figured you needed someone to dump on. It’s not good to hold all that shit in.”

  The little beauty shifted in her seat, tucking one leg underneath her butt. “What would you know about my shit?”

  “I heard your exchange with Tango. I also get the feeling you don’t want to dump any more pressure on him. You need someone to talk to. So, here I am.”

  Click, click, click.

  “I’m fine. Really. Wanna watch a movie?”

  Click, click, click.

  Again with those damn nails.

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “Not much in the mood for a movie.”

  “I’m not much in the mood for talking. So, I guess we’re done here. You can let yourself out.” She reached for the television remote and pushed the power button. “Thanks for stopping by.”

  It took everything I had not to yank that device out of her hand. Something about her defiance made my blood run hotter, and incidentally, straight to my cock. I wasn’t leaving. Call it stubborn. Call it stupid. Hell, I wasn’t even sure why I’d hopped down the stairs to her apartment instead of going home to my bed.

  “Okay. Fine. Maybe I need someone to talk to,” I lied.

  “Nice try.” She winked at me, offering a sardonic grin.

  She flipped through the channels, paying no mind to the selection.

  “I mean it.” I leaned forward. “We have something in common, you know.”

  Her gaze drifted from the screen to me. “What would that be?”

  “Neither of us has any friends in town. I moved to Whisper Springs to take care of my sister and Rocky. I never bothered with the social scene. Now that they have Tango, I got nothin’. You want to stay out of their way, not be a burden, but you’re lonely.”

  “And?” She quirked a brow. “Your point would be?”

  “Let’s be friends. Hang out.”

  “Tucker.” She hit the power button and dropped the control. “I’ve never been friends with a guy. Ever.”

  Found that hard to believe. “What about Tango?”

  “Nope. He was good in the sack. When that fizzled, he only came around to rescue me.”

  “Tito?”

  “He’s like a brother. Tits doesn’t count.” Those doe eyes softened. “I pretty much live to make his life miserable.”

  Damn, that made me happy to hear.

  “Listen, I know what you’re trying to do. But you need to understand something about me. I don’t have friends. People use me to get to my father, whether their intentions are good or bad. If a man is in my life, it’s for sex. I love sex. Thrive on it. So, unless you’re game for a purely casual, full-on fuck fest with a pregnant girl, I’m not interested. You’re a great guy. It’s a shame I’m built the way I am, but that’s how it’s got to be.”

  “That’s the biggest line of bullshit I’ve ever heard. Everybody needs somebody. Besides, I’m not asking for feelings. We don’t even have to call it friendship. How about companions. Movie buddies. Hell. I don’t know.” Why the fuck was I begging for this?

  “Okay. You want to be my friend? Prove it.”

  “Prove it? Are you kidding me?”

  “You made it clear you don’t want to fuck me, so I need a vibrator.”

  Well, hmm. The conversation skyrocketed from irritating to exciting. “Go buy one. I hear all the liberated ladies are doing it.”

  “I’m in hiding. I can’t very well use my credit cards, now can I? And I sure as hell am not asking Tango or Slade to make a trip to the sex-store on my behalf.”

  “So, you’re asking me to buy you a vibrator, for the privilege of hanging
out with you?”

  “That’s what I’m asking.”

  “You’re a little bit insane. You know that, right?”

  “Last guy who called me crazy ended up with punctured balls.”

  I winced, playing it up, hoping to crack her layer of ice. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  Her lips twitched. Almost cracked into a smile. “So, will you do it?”

  “Hell no.”

  “Well, you’re of no use to me then.” She flicked her delicate hand at me. “Off with you, prude.”

  Now she was just making fun of me. At least the nail clicking had stopped.

  “Okay, how about this. I’ll consider buying you a dildo if you do something for me.”

  Crossing arms and legs simultaneously, she said, “You’ve piqued my interest. What?”

  “I promised Rocky I’d take him to the county fair. It’s our thing. We go every year. Come with us.”

  “To the fair? Isn’t it dirty?” She looked ten years younger when she scrunched her nose in disgust. Damn, the woman was a work of art.

  “Yeah. It’s dirty. It’s also fun. Oh, God. Please don’t tell me you’ve never been to a fair.”

  Aida shook her head. “Never. Not interested, either. Besides, I’ve got nothing to wear.” She gestured to her baby bump, which was hardly a bump at all. “I’m growing out of all my clothes.”

  My gaze raised to her chest. That damn shirt was pulled nice and tight across the swell of her breasts. Was it too small? Hell if I cared. Made those beauties even more tempting.

  Shit. I needed to leave before I ravished her on the couch. “Not a problem. I’ll pick you up at ten tomorrow. We’ll hit the mall, buy you some proper fair attire, then, if you’re a good girl, we’ll stop by the porn store.”

  I showed myself out before she could protest. It wasn’t until I’d pulled out of the driveway that I pounded my steering wheel and cursed my brain-numbing boner. What the hell was wrong with me? I hated shopping.

  “THIS CANNOT BE SAFE,” I protested, backing away from the line of sticky-faced kids and frazzled parents.