Golden Trail

Chapter Twelve Toothbrush

Rocky’s warmth was pressed against him, her head on his chest, her arm heavy on his stomach, her knee resting on his thigh – pinning him to his back in the bed.

Her head shifted, her arm tightened around him and she slid up so her lips were against the underside of his jaw.

“You need to wake me up, baby, I need to get to work,” she whispered.

Layne’s eyes opened and he saw dark.

But what he felt was Rocky’s warmth pressed against him, her head on his chest, her arm heavy on his stomach, her knee resting on his thigh – pinning him to his back in the bed.

Layne stared into the darkness and let the smell of her, the feel of her, the warmth, the softness, Rocky pressed close, pinning him to the bed for the first time in eighteen years, penetrate.

He closed his eyes and focused on those sensations and the golden trail they left.

Then he opened his eyes and smiled.

The night before, after Layne sat outside brooding in the dark through his second cigarette and to the end of his beer, he entered the house to find Jasper and Keira preparing to leave and Rocky and Tripp in the kitchen putting the finishing touches on cleaning it.

Layne’s eyes went to his watch and he saw that Jas had half an hour before Keira’s curfew and Keira lived at most a ten minute drive away so either his son was trying to ingratiate himself with Cal and Violet by taking her safely home with time to spare or he was going to take Keira somewhere so he could make out with her.

Layne was guessing the latter.

“Be back, Dad,” Jasper called from the front door, his hand in Keira’s.

“Thanks for dinner, Mr. Layne,” Keira called after Jasper was done.

“Any time, Keira,” Layne called back and they disappeared.

Layne looked at Devin who was standing at the front of the couch, already had his arms stretched over his head and was faking a huge yawn.

Then he heard Rocky announce in a firm, school teacher voice, “Layne, I need to talk to you.”

Surprised at her tone, his eyes cut to her, she gave him a look and then strutted to the steps and up them, still wearing her heels, her ass swaying with every step.

Layne stood there and watched because he liked the show but also because she was heading up the stairs and he hadn’t had to make a complicated play to get her up there.

He heard Devin chuckle and he looked to his friend, saw his eyes shining and Layne grinned at him.

“Got some homework to do, Dad,” Tripp informed him and Layne’s gaze went to his son.

“Do me a favor and do it down here,” Layne replied, Tripp’s eyes went in the direction of the stairs he couldn’t see from his place in the kitchen then they came back to his old man, he grinned then he nodded.

Layne headed up the stairs.

The light over the desk was on when he got there but Rocky was standing in the middle of the set up, her head moving slowly, her eyes taking in the exercise equipment. When he arrived, they shot to him and he knew something was up. Rocky was not happy.

Jesus, how long was he outside?

She glanced at the open double doors to his room then back at him.

“Private,” she said in a low voice, turned on her high heel and strutted into his room.

Layne stared after her a second then dropped his head and grinned at his boots while he followed her. He walked in, closed the door, wiped the grin off his face and looked at Raquel standing in his room.

Melody had come out after Layne had closed on the house. Melody had also chosen every stick of furniture and most of the homewares in that house. This included Layne’s bedroom furniture, burgundy sheets and dark gray comforter. This also meant all of it was expensive, masculine, in good taste and of excellent quality. She’d bought him (using his money) three sets of sheets because she knew his aversion to laundry. Layne hadn’t changed the sheets Rocky had slept in for over a week because it took that long for him not to smell her perfume. This could have been his imagination but he didn’t fucking care.

“Do you work out?” Rocky asked, taking him out of his thoughts and his eyes sliced to her because her tone was angry and, from her question, he couldn’t fathom why.

“Come again?” he asked.

She jabbed a finger at the doors behind him. “Do you work out?”

“Uh… yeah,” he answered.

She threw up both hands. “Layne, you got shot two months ago.”

It was then, he got it.

He took two steps into the room, cautiously saying, “Yeah, sweetcheeks, I remember, I was there.”

She crossed her arms on her chest. “You shouldn’t be working out.”

“Why not?” he asked.

She leaned toward him and hissed, “You were shot two months ago!”

Layne crossed his arms on his chest as well and replied softly, “Yeah, baby, I was shot, but it was over two months ago.”

“You aren’t recovered enough to work out,” she declared.

“You in on my doctor’s appointments?” Layne returned.

“No,” Rocky snapped then glared at him.

Layne studied her, wondering how to play this, especially knowing what he now knew about Raquel Merrick.

Then he asked quietly, “You called me up here to tell me I shouldn’t be working out?”

She kept glaring at him, trying to slip into a stare down but he started toward her and she dropped her head, turning it slightly to the side to look at the floor as well as hide from him.

He got close and put his hands to her hips.

“Baby, look at me,” he ordered gently, saw her chest expand and then, slowly, her eyes came to his. “I’m takin’ it easy, yeah? I’m okay and I’ll only get back to one hundred percent if I work on it. I’m not doin’ my normal routine, I’m takin’ it slow but steady and I’m bein’ smart. Swear.” She kept her eyes locked to his and he finished, “Now, tell me what’s really buggin’ you.”

She bit her lip then pulled from his hands and walked across the room to look out the window. Layne watched as she tucked behind her ear that fall of hair that never stayed secured in the holders, clips and pins at the back of her head and she stared into the dark night.

It took several seconds but she finally spoke to the window. “It isn’t my place to say, Layne, he’s not my son but I’m having second thoughts about this Tripp business.”

And that was when Layne knew it, seeing Rocky standing in his bedroom in her sexy getup and sexier high heels, her hair tucked behind her ear, her arms crossed on her chest, her concern for his son evident in her profile – Layne knew he was in love with her. Not only that, he’d never stopped loving her. Not once, not for a second, not for twenty-one years.

Fuck him.

It took a lot out of him but Layne stayed where he was, separated from her by ten feet in his bedroom.

“He’ll be fine, Roc,” Layne assured and her eyes went away from the window, coming to him, her neck twisting to do it.

“I don’t know. If this guy’s a predator…” She shook her head. “Tripp’s a fourteen year old boy,” she reminded him.

“He’s a smart kid,” Layne told her.

“I know, Layne.”

“He goin’ in with his eyes open, he knows this is important, he won’t jack it up and he won’t put himself in danger.”

Her brows shot up. “You sure about that?”

Finally, Layne allowed himself to walk to her. He got close but he didn’t touch her.

“I been gone awhile but me and Tripp, we’ve stayed close all that time. I know my kid and I know him better now, bein’ home. He’ll be fine, Rocky, and if I didn’t think he would, no way in hell I’d send him in there.”

She turned to him, her body giving a small jolt as she did it. “I didn’t mean to infer that you –”

“I know you didn’t.”

“I’m just worried,” she shared.

“I know you are,” he replied. “But I have faith in him and I’ll have his back, so will Jas. He’ll be fine.”

Layne watched her eyes get warm, her mouth go soft and fought the urge to touch her and, after she spoke again, he had to fight the urge to pick her up, throw her on his bed and cover her body with his.

“You’re a good Dad, Layne, those boys love you.”

He beat back the impulse and returned, “Tripp, yeah, Jas, not so sure.” She gave him the dimple after he stopped speaking, her eyes now warm and knowing so he asked, “What?”

“Jasper is a cool, badass senior now, Layne, but when he was fourteen, he was a lot like Tripp. And, trust me, everyone in that high school knew all about you before you moved back home and they did because Jasper frequently bragged about his badass, super-cool Dad.”

Layne turned his head and stared out the window, her words sliding across his skin light as a feather but the sensations they made him feel were anything but light.

“Fucked up with those kids,” Layne told the window.

“I hear a lot about what goes down at home and I see the consequences in my classroom and in those halls and you may not have made all the right choices, I know you went away, but you didn’t turn your back on them. I don’t know enough about it to know if you made mistakes but I know enough about kids to know whatever mistakes you made, they weren’t bad ones and, therefore, my professional opinion is, you didn’t fuck up.”

His eyes cut back to hers.

“At least not royally,” she finished, giving him another dimple.

Christ, she didn’t shut up, he was going to rip that soft sweater and tight skirt off her body and take her under the window.

Therefore, Layne didn’t weigh his words or pick his time to announce, “You’re spending the night.”

She blinked and asked, “What?”

“You’re spending the night,” he repeated.

She looked to the door then to him. “Why?”

“’Cause your doors and security haven’t been changed and ‘cause you’re my woman. A man and a woman together don’t sleep at separate houses, not every night, even if kids are involved,” he explained. “We want folks to think this is real, we gotta make it look real and the way you look, sweetcheeks, no man is gonna believe I got hold of somethin’ like that and she doesn’t sleep in my bed,” he paused before he finished, “regularly.”

She was staring up at him, lips parted, eyes wide, off-balance.

Then she shook it off and reminded him, “Devin is sleeping on your couch.”

“Yeah,” Layne replied.

“So, where are you going to sleep? With one of the boys?”

“I’m gonna sleep here,” he jerked his head to the bed.

“So, where am I going to sleep? On your weight bench?”

“No, you’re gonna sleep here.” He jerked his head to the bed again and she took a step back.

“What?” she whispered.

“We gotta make this look real,” he repeated.

“Layne!” She threw her hands up. “No one can see in the house!”

“So?” he asked.

“So?” she repeated irately then looked around the room and back at him where her eyes narrowed. “What’s going on?” she asked.

“You been in on it the whole time, Roc, you know what’s going on,” he answered.

Rocky crossed her arms on her chest and stated, “Two days ago we were at each other’s throats. Now we’re…” she hesitated, looked to the door again and back at him before she said in a heavy voice, “not.”

“Two days ago was not good, the night before that, Rocky, when Melody was here, was worse. I can’t take that and, what’s more, I’m not gonna put you through that. We got a lotta shit goin’ down around us and we don’t need to be tearin’ into each other while it happens. When this started, you and me, that night you came to dinner, that night of the game, it was good. We’re goin’ back to that.”

“I’m not sure –” she started.

“I’m not askin’ if you’re sure. That’s what we’re doin’,” he told her, her eyes narrowed again and he went on. “You think we can convince people we’re together, that this is real, if behind the scenes we’re like that?” He shook his head. “We can’t and too much is at stake. We gotta live this like it’s real, Rocky, and that’s what we’re doin’, out there,” he pointed to the doors and then down at the floor, “and in here.”

She stared at him then clipped, “Okay, Layne, agreed, but we’re not sleeping in the same bed.”

“You had a photographer takin’ pictures in your house, you want someone, anyone seein’ me sleepin’ on your couch, wonderin’ why and talkin’ about it?”

“I’ll get blinds,” she shot back.

“All right, but you don’t have them now,” he returned.

She clamped her teeth together. Then she said, “Then I’ll sleep here but I’ll –”

Layne cut her off. “Sleep in my bed.”

“Layne –”

“You’re sleepin’ in my bed.”

“Layne!”

“Rocky, for fuck’s sake, it’s a big bed. Look at it. What do you think is gonna happen?”

Her head turned and she looked at the bed. He could tell she was thinking and he felt no guilt at all for lying by implication that nothing was going to happen because he knew something was going to happen and he knew exactly what that was going to be because he was going to be doing it… to her.

Then her head jerked back so she could look out the window and she muttered, “This is ridiculous.”

“This is real, they gotta see it out there so we gotta live it in here,” Layne returned and her eyes cut to him. It was totally lame, complete bullshit and he knew it but he sensed she was buying it.

Then she bought it.

“Perhaps we can start tomorrow,” she suggested and he beat back a grin.

Then he walked to his dresser, opened a drawer and pulled out a tee. He took two long strides back to her, tossed the tee at her and she caught it at her chest.

“Get changed and climb in, sweetcheeks,” he ordered and watched her face pale. “I’ll be back in five. We got stuff to talk about, we’ll talk, we’ll watch TV then we’ll sleep.”

“Layne,” she whispered but he didn’t answer. He turned and walked out of the room.

He was in the kitchen clearing out the coffeemaker to get it ready for coffee the next morning when he heard her heels hit the tiles. His neck twisted and his eyes hit her, hers hit him, she gave him a scorching glare as she walked up to him, snatched her purse from the counter by the coffeemaker, turned smartly then started to walk back to the stairs.

Tripp was at the coffee table in the living room with his books. Devin was on the couch with his beer.

Before Rocky turned the corner, Layne announced loudly, “Boys, Roc and I are hittin’ the sack.”

Her body jerked and she tossed her head but, other than that, her heels on the tiles didn’t miss a beat.

From his place on the floor, Tripp looked at his old man over the back of the couch and Devin did it from his place on the couch.

Then Tripp called, “’Night Rocky,” like he’d been saying goodnight to her while she walked to his father’s bed since he could talk.

“Goodnight, Tripp,” Layne heard Rocky call back from the stairs.

“Donuts tomorrow, darlin’,” Dev added.

“Right, Dev. Goodnight,” Rocky’s voice was fading.

Tripp dropped his head and grinned at his books. Devin didn’t move and grinned at Layne. Layne prepared the coffee for the next morning and he prepared it so it’d make a big pot.

Then he walked to his cell phone on the counter, flipped it open and called Jasper.

Not surprisingly, it rang four times before Jasper answered with an impatient, “Yeah Dad?”

“Do me a favor, on the way home from droppin’ off Keira, stop at the store and pick up a toothbrush for Roc,” Layne told him.

There was a beat of silence then, impatience gone, a smile in his voice, Jasper replied, “Gotcha.”

“Be smart,” Layne said as good-bye and flipped the phone shut, placed it on the counter and called goodnight to his son and Devin as he walked up the stairs.

When he arrived in his room, Rocky was in his t-shirt and in his bed. She was sitting cross-legged, the covers were pulled up over her lap, she had the remote in her hand resting on her thigh, her eyes on the TV and her hair was out of the twist but it was now back in a ponytail, the ponytail full and wild from her hair being twisted up all day.

Her eyes came to him instantly and just as instantly she asked on a snap, “What do we need to talk about?”

Layne closed the doors behind him and walked to the dresser saying, “Jesus, sweetcheeks, give me a minute.”

“I’m tired,” she announced.

He pulled out a pair of pajama bottoms, looked to his watch, turned to her and said, “It’s ten to ten.”

“I go to sleep at ten o’clock every night, no fail or I’m crabby in the morning.”

She was so full of shit. He believed she went to bed at ten, she’d done that when she was with him. Rocky was early to bed and early to rise. But she was a morning person, always woke up in a good mood, even if she’d gone to bed late because she was studying or they were out.

“Give me a minute,” Layne repeated, turning to head into the bathroom.

“Is this going to take long?” she called after him.

“It will if you don’t give me a minute,” Layne called back then turned and stood in the large archway that led to the bathroom. “Though I could change in here.”

Her eyes shot to the TV as she mumbled, “I’ll give you a minute.”

Layne pressed his lips together to bite back his smile, walked through the bathroom and into the walk-in closet. Well out of Rocky’s sight, he pulled off his clothes, threw them in the direction of the laundry hamper Melody bought him, a hamper you couldn’t see because of the clothes piled on and around it, then he pulled up his pajamas. He went to the bathroom and brushed his teeth then he walked into his room.

Rocky’s eyes stayed glued to the TV as he rounded the bed and got in, shoving up the pillows, he settled with his back to them on the headboard, his body on top of the covers, legs stretched out in front of him and ankles crossed.

Even after he was in, Rocky didn’t tear her eyes from the TV.

“Can you mute that, sweetcheeks?” he requested

It took her a second to comply and when she did, her head turned to him but her body stayed facing the TV across the room from the foot of the bed.

She lifted her brows.

Layne smiled at her.

“Well?” she prompted.

“I need your help with something,” he told her.

“What?”

He slid down, rolled to his side toward her and put his head in his hand, his elbow into the pillows. Her body tensed as he did this and didn’t relax until he stopped moving.

“It’s about Gabby,” Layne told her and Rocky’s eyes got wide then, almost immediately, they blanked.

“What about Gabby?”

That’s when Layne told her about Stew and about Gabby, most everything about Stew and also a lot about Gabby. He didn’t leave much out including the fact that Gabrielle was living blind and acting desperate to keep hold of a shitheel of a man.

When he was done talking, she’d shifted so she had her body turned toward him, the remote in the bed beside her and her hands held loosely together in her lap. Her face had also grown soft and her eyes had grown warm.

“Poor Gabby,” she whispered.

“Yeah,” Layne whispered back.

“So what do you need my help with?” she asked.

“I gotta know how to play this,” Layne answered and her head tilted to the side in confusion.

“How to play it? Layne, you do what that Ryker guy said and make him pay through the nose and then get him behind bars.”

“I’m not Gabby’s favorite person, baby, she isn’t gonna thank me for getting involved.”

“She’ll understand especially when she understands. She’s a good Mom, Layne, she’ll want to make sure her boys are safe from that.”

“She might eventually understand, Roc, but we got Jas and Tripp in the middle of this, and, like I said, I’m not her favorite person and she’s gonna be pissed in order to hide the hurt and humiliation and she’s gonna take it out on me. When she gets pissed at me, sweetcheeks, she doesn’t do it privately. Jas and Tripp are gonna hear it, see it and they’re not gonna like it. They’ll feel it, they’ll feel for her, Jas already knows I’m steppin’ up for his Mom, he’s glad I’m doin’ it. Tripp’ll feel the same so they’ll get caught in the middle and it’s my job to try to cushion them from that shit.”

Layne watched as she took in a deep breath and, while letting it out, she fell to her side, stretched out and settled with her head in her hand, elbow in the pillow, facing Layne.

“You think you can keep your part in this whole thing quiet?” she asked.

“I can try but Gabby’s got a way of finding shit out. Tripp’s not in the know about me workin’ this but he’s also not dumb, not to mention, he’s learnin’ cool but he’s got a ways to go so he can run his mouth. He loves his Mom, he loves his old man, he’ll be happy I’m lookin’ out for her and he won’t get it that she won’t be happy. Shit happens and I gotta plan accordingly.”

She studied him a moment before she said softly, “Then you’re going to have to suck it up, Layne.”

Layne’s brows knitted. “Come again?”

“Earlier tonight, you told me you fucked up with your boys. Now, Gabrielle has done it. Everyone knows Stew’s a jerk, she knows it too, deep down. She knows she’s fucked up, bringing Stew into her sons’ life not to mention bringing him into hers. I don’t want to sound like a bitch, but all this boils down to her and the decisions she’s made. She’s the kind of person who has to take that out on someone, even if it’s unreasonable because that someone was only trying to look out for her and their kids, then that someone, namely you, is going to have to suck it up.”

He grinned at her. “Not sure you got much of a flair for reassurance, sweetcheeks.”

Rocky grinned back. “Sorry, did I miss that part of my job description?”

“Skipped right by it, baby.”

“I’ll take time tomorrow to review it,” she told him.

“That’d be appreciated.”

The grin changed to the point he got the dimple and Layne gave himself a moment to enjoy lying in bed facing Rocky and her dimple before he said softly, “I watch Letterman, baby, you gonna be able to sleep through that?”

The dimple faded and her face changed, showing him a hint of fear before she got her shields up and nodded and, if she hadn’t changed, she wasn’t lying. She went to bed at ten but Layne didn’t so it was more accurate to say she went to sleep at ten because most of the time she was stretched out on the couch with Layne watching TV and she fell asleep while he kept watching it. If she was really out, he’d carry her to bed but most of the time, when he moved, she woke up enough to stumble to their room, pull off her clothes, tug on one of his tees, collapse into bed and fall straight back to sleep.

“Pass me the remote,” Layne ordered and she rolled, coming back to him, she handed him the remote.

Then she stayed where she was, head in hand but her eyes directed down her body toward the TV. Layne rolled to his back and sat up, lifting his legs, whipping the covers out from under him and settling back against the headboard.

Layne changed the channel finding a crime drama. He watched it then watched the News then watched Letterman.

Jas was home five minutes into the drama.

Tripp hit his bedroom fifteen minutes into it, Jasper following him half an hour later.

Rocky was asleep after ten minutes of the drama.

Layne fell asleep after trying to find it for half an hour after Letterman.

Now he was awake to find Rocky had moved during the night and she’d pinned him to the bed.

They’d both set a record. It took him one night to get used to it and it took her one night to break out of sleeping in her tight, guarded ball and sprawl.

He turned his head to the side to look at the clock and he saw that his dream Rocky had given him plenty of time.

So Layne turned into his real Rocky, wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her up his body. She released a sleepy mew and Layne lifted his head then buried his face in her neck.

He could smell a hint of her perfume.

He kissed her neck and then touched it with his tongue, sliding it up to right under her ear, liking the taste of her.

Her body started to come alert in his arms so he touched his tongue to her earlobe then moved his lips along her jaw then up, to her mouth.

Her head tipped back and her voice was drowsy when she whispered, “Layne?”

That was when Layne slanted his head and kissed her. He started soft until he felt her hands light on the skin of his chest. Then he touched his tongue to her lips and her hands slid up to curl on his shoulders. He touched his tongue to her lips again, her mouth opened, Layne slid his tongue inside and the tips of her fingers dug into his shoulders as she made another mew, this one not sleepy.

At the sound of it, the feel of it against his tongue, what it meant and what it was doing to his body, he rolled her to her back and then he kissed her.

Rocky tied herself up with him instantly, tangling her legs with his, winding her arms around his shoulders, one hand sifting in his hair, the other one drifting down his back and she let him kiss her, her back arching, her mouth unbelievably generous.

His hands moved, up her t-shirt and in, skin on skin, her body warm from his and being cocooned in his bed, her skin soft, she pressed up into him and moved one arm down, shoving it under his so she could reach more of his back and she did, her fingers trailing. Layne’s hand went down to her ass, cupping her and pulling her into his hard cock and her fingers trailing the skin of his back became nails dragging against it.

Hot.

He stopped kissing her to mutter, “Yeah, baby,” against her mouth and her reply was simply a breathy, “Layne.”

For some reason, hearing her say his name like that, in that voice, her body soft and warm under him, Layne suddenly lost control. His hands in her shirt pulled it up and he didn’t even notice her arms were already lifted by the time he got it over her head. He tossed it aside and went back to her, kissing her, harder, taking more and he got it, she gave it to him and he knew Rocky had lost control too. He knew this because her hands were urgent on his skin, both of them, moving, pressing in, fingers, nails, then down, sliding inside the waistband of his pajamas then across, then up, down, then inside and the fingers of both her hands curled into the muscles of his ass as her hips pushed up, her back arching, her soft tits pressing into his chest.

“Fuck,” he muttered against her mouth then moved down her chest, not taking his time, his hands slid up her sides and he palmed one of her breasts then cupped it, lifted it, his mouth fastened around it, he took a second to swirl his tongue around her rock hard nipple before he sucked it deep.

Her back left the bed and she fed herself deeper into his mouth as he heard a low, deep moan glide up her throat.

Fucking hell. Beautiful.

His other hand cupped her other breast, thumb sliding across the nipple then tweaking, rolling as he pulled hard with his mouth on the other and Rocky’s hands roamed on him, searching, clearly desperate, one moved around the front and curled tight around his cock.

That felt so good, Layne groaned against her nipple and her back arched again, her hand tightening, she stroked him and pulled him closer at the same time, telling him she wanted more.

He let her go and pulled himself up her body, one arm wrapping around her hips, the other hand trailing down her belly, she stroked his cock and his mouth hit hers.

“You ready?” he asked and she arched her neck. “Baby?” he called, his fingertips sliding into the top of her panties, happy to find out for himself when her body locked, her hand left his cock and shot to his wrist, wrapping around.

“No,” she whispered, she tucked her chin down and pulled his hand up her belly. “I’m sorry.”

He tugged his wrist from her fingers and slid it along her waist, rolling her with him to take them to their sides.

“That’s okay, honey.”

She tucked her face into his throat and nestled into his body, repeating on a whisper, “Shit, I’m so sorry.”

“Rocky, baby, that’s okay.”

Both her hands were on his chest and he felt her fingers curl in so they were held in light fists against his skin.

He kept one arm wrapped tight around her, her body close, and his other hand slid into her hair, the ponytail holder still in it, he gently yanked it out, tossed it to the bed and started to run his fingers through her hair.

When her fists didn’t loosen, he asked gently, “You all right?”

“I’m sorry, Layne,” she repeated.

“Baby, I said it’s okay.”

She pressed her face into his throat and then said so softly he barely heard her, “I’m on my period.”

His hand cupped her head, his arm gave her a squeeze and he understood.

She grew up with two men and no Mom at one of those times when a girl really needed her Mom. She had therefore guarded that fact of nature from the men in her house like it was a State secret. She did the same when she’d first moved in with Layne. Clearly, she’d not moved beyond this which, he had to admit, caused him some uneasiness because she was now thirty-eight years old, she’d spent ten years living with a medical doctor and it was a goddamned fact of nature.

On the other hand, he was fucking thrilled she’d stopped the proceedings because she was on her period and not because she didn’t want them to continue. Not to mention the fact that she’d cuddled into him afterward instead of throwing a conniption fit, bolting from bed, getting dressed and stomping from the house.

Layne didn’t respond and started sifting his fingers through her hair again. He did this until her fists uncurled and her hands rested flat against his chest.

Finally, he whispered, “You gotta get up, Rocky.”

“Yeah,” she whispered back.

“Jas bought you a toothbrush. I’ll bring it up.”

For some reason, her body locked and her hands moved quickly to his shoulders, fingers pressing in as her head tipped back, taking her face out of his throat.

“Jasper bought me a toothbrush?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Layne answered.

Her voice had changed, a lot, when she said, “Layne.”

He grinned in the dark and replied, “I’ll go get it.”

Her fingers curled deeper and she repeated, “Layne.”

“Rocky, you need to get a move on.”

He started to roll away from her but she rolled with him, coming up on an elbow in the bed, she planted the other hand firm in his chest and he saw her shadow looming over at him.

“You asked your son to buy me a toothbrush?” she snapped, sounding hilariously disgusted.

“He was out so… yeah,” Layne answered.

She lifted her hand and smacked his shoulder with it, saying on a quiet shout, “Layne!”

He knifed up to sitting and his arms went around her, he twisted and took her down to her back, his torso pinning her to the bed.

When he got her in position, he informed her, “Sweetcheeks, everyone needs a toothbrush.”

“I can’t believe you,” she hissed.

“Am I wrong?”

“You are not to be believed!”

“Baby,” he murmured sounding only slightly less amused then he actually was.

“Layne,” she snapped back sounding probably just as pissed as she actually was.

Even though he couldn’t see her clearly in the dark, they went into stare down. He let this go on for awhile before he used option two, bent his head and kissed her hard. She resisted, he persisted and the minute he got his tongue in her mouth, her body relaxed under his.

He took his fill and enjoyed doing it, almost too much, before he lifted his head and ordered, “Get yourself sorted out, sweetcheeks, I’ll be back with your toothbrush.”

Then he intentionally squeezed the breath out of her so she couldn’t get a shot in by rolling his bodyweight over her, getting out of bed on her side, lighting the lamp on the nightstand and aiming a grin at her lying on her back but up on one elbow, the other hand holding the covers to her chest, glaring at him before he walked out of the room to get her toothbrush.

When Layne hit the kitchen, he saw Devin sitting at a stool in his wife beater and boxer shorts, a mug of steaming coffee in his hand, his eyes on the News playing low on the TV. They cut to Layne when he appeared and they watched Layne walk to the toothbrush sitting on the island.

The toothbrush Jasper bought Rocky was white and pink. Yes, his son was sharp. As a tack.

Also on the island were two big, white baker’s boxes opened and stuffed full with Hilligoss donuts.

Layne stopped and looked at Devin. “Please tell me you put on your pants when you went to the bakery.”

“Of course, boy, it’s cold out there.”

Thank fuck.

Layne turned to the cupboard with the mugs, making a note to move them to the one over the coffeemaker and he did this in an effort not to think about why in the fuck Devin took off his pants when he arrived home from the bakery, when Devin went on, his tone mulish. “Calais is at the curb.”

“That’s good,” Layne returned, walking his mug to the coffeemaker. “’Cause Rocky’s gonna blow through here in about five minutes and she’s probably gonna take out the garage door when she goes and it’d be a cryin’ shame she damages the Calais, seein’ as you put so much effort into keepin’ it in pristine condition for twenty-five years.”

Without missing a beat, Dev muttered, “Better put my pants on then.”

Layne poured a cup of coffee, spooned in two sugars and was stirring it when he turned and saw Devin sauntering back to the island in wife beater and slacks.

“Remember a time when they left your room in the mornin’ with a smile on their face, boy, you must be losin’ your touch,” Devin remarked.

“Figure you’ll be in town for awhile, old man, it might be good to brace,” Layne advised, dropped the spoon on the counter and took a sip of joe.

Devin’s eyes locked on Layne’s. “We gonna have fireworks?”

Layne dropped his hand holding the mug but held Dev’s gaze. “How easy do you think it is for a man to talk a woman into takin’ a risk on dark and wild?”

“Lotta women not worth that effort,” Dev returned. “Though, the one you got on your hands, boy, it is and it is ‘cause it’s not gonna be easy at all and that means… kaboom!”

Layne walked to the toothbrush and tagged it, saying, “Like I said, brace.”

Then he turned and walked up the stairs and into his room. He found Rocky in the bathroom in her bra, her back to him, zipping up the back of her skirt.

“Toothbrush, sweetcheeks,” he said and she whirled, one arm going to her middle, one arm covering her breasts but not before he saw her bra, too, was deep pink and made entirely of lace.

Christ.

“A moment of privacy, Layne,” she snapped, her eyes full of fire.

Her hair was back in a ponytail and Layne tossed the toothbrush on the bathroom counter, set his mug down and walked up to her. He reached around, wrapped his fist around her ponytail, tugged her head gently back and kissed her hard and closed-mouthed.

When he lifted his head he kept his hand at her ponytail so she couldn’t move.

Therefore, she had to fight her fight verbally. “What was that?” she hissed up at him and he grinned down at her.

“Hot piece of ass in my bathroom wearin’ nothin’ but a sexy bra and a tight skirt after she spent the night pinnin’ me down to the bed, I walk in on her, I’m gonna kiss her.” He gave her ponytail a playful tug. “Just keepin’ it real, sweetcheeks.”

“Don’t call me a piece of ass,” she snapped, definitely pissed.

“Baby,” he replied, not pissed at all.

“And will you stop calling me sweetcheeks?” she asked on a demand.

“No,” he answered.

She glared at him then stated, “I did not pin you down to the bed.”

“Rocky, you were all over me.”

“Was not.”

“You were.”

“Was not!” Her voice was rising.

“Why do you think you got the wakeup call you got, Roc?” he lied through his teeth. “Man wakes up with a woman wrapped around him, he acts on instinct.”

She tugged her hair from his hand and stepped back, forgetting she was only wearing a bra and skirt, she planted her hands on her hips.

“I see us sleeping together is not going to work,” she declared.

“I don’t know,” he grinned, “worked for me.”

She leaned back. “You do know, every cop on the Force thinks of me like a sister? It’s highly unlikely they’ll arrest me for assault and battery.”

Layne couldn’t take it anymore, he tipped back his head and laughed and, since he didn’t have to fight the urge, his arm shot out and hooked her around the waist, yanking her forward roughly so her body slammed into his, he tilted his head forward and shoved his face in her neck so he could laugh there.

“Layne,” she called, her hands on his abs pushing.

“Give me a second, sweetcheeks, I’m tryin’ not to bust a gut here.”

“Layne!” she shouted.

His head came up and he smiled down at her. Then he kept smiling down at her as he wrapped his other arm around her shoulder blades and pulled her closer, trapping her hands between them.

Then he dipped his face close to hers and he whispered, “You’re cute as hell when you get pissed. You always were cute as hell when you got pissed. I used to piss you off just to see you get pissed, I liked it so much.”

Her hands stopped pushing and her lips parted as the fire died out of her eyes and she gazed up at him with that intensity in her eyes.

He dropped his head so his forehead was resting against hers. “And, baby, I don’t like it any less now,” he whispered.

He heard her suck in a soft breath but he ignored it, touched his mouth to hers and let her go.

Turning, he nabbed his coffee mug and didn’t look at her as he walked out of the room, saying, “Dev went to Hilligoss. There’s two dozen donuts downstairs. You better get down there before the boys do, sweetcheeks, or you’re gonna be disappointed.”

Then he walked out of the room.