Golden Trail

Chapter Seventeen Fighting to Win

Layne felt her moving against him, over him, her hair sliding on his shoulder, her lips at his throat, she shifted astride him, he felt her knees at his sides, her bottom settle into his crotch, her breasts against his chest.

His hands went to span Rocky’s hips.

He opened his eyes.

Layne saw dark ceiling.

Rocky was astride him, her lips moving from his throat to the hinge of his jaw, her hips in his hands.

She wasn’t a dream.

Now, this was how he wanted to wake up yesterday.

“Baby,” he murmured, her lips left his jaw and he saw her head come up, her hair falling down to frame both of their faces.

“Morning,” she whispered, that soft, sweet word said with her warm body on top of his drove into his mouth, down his throat, burning a golden trail through his chest, his gut, straight to his cock.

She tilted her head and her lips hit his.

The moment of impact, his hands slid in, his arms going around her waist, one slanting up, his fingers gripped her hair, she opened her mouth, his tongue slid in as he growled and rolled her to her back.

Layne was at the bar doing pull ups wearing nothing but shorts, ankle socks and running shoes.

He’d pulled up when one of the double doors to his bedroom swung open, Rocky walked out and stopped dead.

He dropped down and hung there, staring at her.

She had her hair wrapped in a towel, a huge bundle of dirty laundry piled in her arms and her body wrapped in his plaid, flannel robe.

Jesus, where’d she find that fucking robe?

He’d had it since he was seventeen and he had no idea why he kept hold of it. His mother bought for him it to take to Ball State. He’d skipped a grade, going from sixth to eighth and therefore graduated from high school early. He remembered she’d given him that robe with tears in her eyes, distraught, she’d told him, that her baby, not even a man, was going away. He remembered it had annoyed him immensely because he thought he was a man. He’d worn it sometimes during his freshman year in the dorms when he had to walk the corridors to get to the bathrooms and then never wore it again.

He’d had it when he was with Rocky, obviously, but she’d never worn it. She’d had her own robe but mostly she strutted around in his tees. So she wasn’t the reason he kept it.

He had no clue why he kept it. He just did.

Looking at her now, Layne was glad he kept it and he was equally glad Rocky had dug through his shit to find it. She looked adorable in that old robe.

“Hey sweetcheeks,” he greeted and she stared at him as he pulled himself up, chin over the bar, then slowly lowered himself down.

“Is that taking it easy?” she asked in a tone that stated clearly any answer other than “no” and any future action other than him letting go of the bar and hitting the shower was unacceptable.

“Yep,” he replied and pulled himself back up.

She glared at him as he slowly let himself down and continued to glare at him as he pulled himself back up. Then she stomped to the stairs.

She returned as he was hooking his ankles under the bar at the weight bench he’d declined and he was about to roll back to do sit ups. He twisted to watch her glare at him as she walked back to his room, one hand holding the handle of a coffee mug, the other hand precariously balancing a pile of his folded clothes under which, hooked on her fingers, were hangers on which hung his ironed shirts.

“Your mother re-ironed everything I ironed yesterday,” she told him in mid-strut, tone now displeased. “She says I don’t do it right.”

She didn’t wait for him to respond, not that he had a response, she walked into his bedroom and kicked the door closed.

Layne twisted back and rolled down, grinning.

“Pancakes!” Vera shouted from downstairs and three seconds later, Tripp tore through his bedroom door, racing down the hall to the bathroom.

Tripp was a big fan of his Grandma’s pancakes and there was a reason why, her pancakes were the shit.

Not twenty seconds later, Jasper came out of his room and, with his back to the bench, Layne looked at his mostly upside down son who was staring down the hall at the closed bathroom door.

Jas’s eyes came to his Dad. “Tripp in the bathroom?”

Layne grunted, “Yep,” as he curled up.

“I’ll use the one downstairs,” Jas mumbled and Layne heard his footfalls on the stairs.

Proof that Vera’s pancakes were the bomb. It was Sunday morning, his sons were both teenagers, it was just eight o’clock and they both were out of bed.

Layne rolled back to the weight bench, again grinning.

Layne was standing outside with hair wet from his shower wearing thick socks, track pants and a freshly laundered, white, long-sleeved thermal. He bent down to pick up the tennis ball Blondie had just dropped at his feet, tipped his head back to see she’d inched back, front legs out and sprawled, chest to the cement patio, behind in the air, tail wagging and her eyes were riveted to the ball.

Layne tossed it and she went racing after it.

Then he straightened, turned to the table, picked up his coffee mug steaming in the cold air, sipped at it and turned back to Blondie who was dropping the tennis ball again at his feet. He repeated his actions, she raced away and Layne reached to the table and grabbed his cell, flipping it open.

By the time it was ringing in his ear, he’d thrown the ball for Blondie three more times.

He heard the connect then, “You’ve reached Lieutenant Garrett Merrick, I’m unable to take your call but leave a message and I’ll get back to you.”

After the beep, Layne said, “Merry. Layne. Call me when you get this.”

Then he flipped the phone shut, tossed it on the table, bent and tossed the ball for Blondie and turned to the table to get his mug. Something caught at his peripheral vision, he twisted his neck to look through the sliding glass doors and froze.

Rocky was walking down the stairs.

Not even ten minutes ago he’d left her in the bathroom. After he’d finished his workout, he got in the shower when she was blow drying her hair and when he got out of the shower, she was still blow drying her hair.

He could see this. His woman had a lot of hair.

After he’d dressed, he’d left her bent over the basin applying mascara.

Now she was strutting down the stairs wearing a tight, dark brown skirt, a blue sweater with one of those cowl necks, the one on Rocky’s sweater hanging deep, passed her tits and showing skin at her chest, the rest of the sweater skintight and a pair of dark blue pumps with a high, thin heel, a closed toe and a thin, sexy ankle strap. Her makeup was done full on. Her hair was back and he couldn’t tell how she’d pulled it back this time but he thought it was a waste of all that effort with the blow dryer to pull it back and he’d be pulling it down about two seconds after he found out what in the fuck she was up to, dressed like that on Sunday morning.

He grabbed his phone and was nearly to the door when Blondie caught him and dropped the ball at his feet. He transferred his phone to his hand carrying the mug, bent, grabbed the ball, tossed it side arm as he straightened, she dashed after it and Layne slid open the door and walked into the house.

Rocky was now at the island transferring shit from one purse to another. Vera was at the sink, doing dishes. His boys were both camped out on the couch watching TV and he couldn’t see but parts of their bodies as they were lounging.

“We don’t usually dress to watch the Colts play, sweetcheeks,” he remarked after he slid the door closed.

He thought it was telling that she didn’t lift her head when she answered and he knew why with what she said.

“I’m going to church.”

Layne stopped dead and felt his eyes narrow. Vera turned slowly from the sink and her surprised eyes hit Rocky. Both his boys’ heads popped up over the couch.

“Come again?” Layne asked quietly but he couldn’t keep the rumble out of his tone.

Rocky lifted a compact at the same time she unscrewed the lid of a tube of lip gloss and her eyes skidded across him before she flipped the compact open, her eyes going to it and she repeated, “I’m going to church.”

Then she calmly slid the applicator across her lips, transferring a glimmering, peachy gloss to them as Layne watched and wondered if counting to ten actually worked.

Then he decided, fuck it.

He walked to the island and stood at the end of it next to where she was at the front, put his mug and cell down and asked, “You’re going to church?”

She rubbed her lips together, shoved the applicator in the tube and snapped the compact closed, taking this time, he knew, to pluck up the courage to meet his eyes.

Then she met his eyes. “Yes. I’m going to church.”

“When’s the last time you went to church?” Layne returned.

She pulled in breath then shrugged.

It was then, Layne was done.

“You’re not goin’ to church,” he stated firmly but his voice was pitched low.

“Yes I am,” she replied firmly but her voice was pitched a little high.

“No, Roc, you aren’t.”

“Yes, Layne, I am.”

“Why?” Layne asked sharply.

“I feel in the mood for fellowship,” she answered and Layne heard both Tripp and Jasper laugh, Tripp’s was louder and Jasper’s was more a chuckle.

“Roc –” Layne started, wondering if his mother and sons would find it inappropriate if he threw her over his shoulder and carried her up the stairs, knowing at least his mother would, and then wondering if he gave a fuck.

He was cut off by Vera. “That’s an excellent idea. Let me check my hair. I’ll go with you.”

Rocky’s startled eyes turned to Vera, who was definitely not Rocky’s best friend and she’d made this clear beyond yesterday morning. Re-ironing Layne’s shirts was just the continuation of it. They’d been in détente during the Paige drama but Vera laid it on after they got back from Cal’s. When they’d arrived home, Vera had been in mid-October-Spring-clean of the house which now, top to bottom, was sparkling. And, after Layne had brought in the cookies that Rocky made and his sons devoured them like they’d never tasted anything but sawdust in their lives, Vera had demanded to make dinner then demanded to clean up after dinner. She also practically raced Rocky to the washing machine any time Rocky looked to be heading that way and, therefore, they’d engaged in a hostile tag team to do Layne’s laundry. Through this, Vera was making clear whose house this was and who was welcome to make themselves at home in it and clear whose it wasn’t and that person was Rocky.

Vera rounded the stairs and by the time Rocky’s head turned back to him, she’d realized the advantages to Vera’s unexpected alliance and she smiled smugly up at him.

He stared down at her wondering if her lip gloss tasted like peaches at the same time wondering if she’d attack him again after he spanked her fucking ass.

“I’m goin’ too!” Tripp shouted and catapulted himself over the back of the couch.

Layne watched his son race up the stairs then Jasper rolled off the couch, muttering, “I’m not gonna miss this,” and he followed his brother.

Layne’s eyes went back to Rocky and she was dropping her compact and lip gloss in her bag and, incidentally, failing miserably at hiding her smile.

“Sweetcheeks,” he called, her smile vanished, her head came up, tilted to the side, her eyes alight, and she mumbled, “Hmm?”

“What’re you doin’?” he asked quietly.

“Didn’t you hear?” she asked back. “We’re all going to church.”

“What’re you doin’?” Layne repeated, her eyes locked with his and she went into stare down.

He was pissed and she knew it so she couldn’t hold it and whispered, “Layne.”

“I told you, you’re not on this guy’s radar.”

“Layne –”

“I told you, this guy is a predator.”

“But –”

“Jas has been datin’ Keira for a few weeks and he’s keepin’ her clear of this guy. You think, what you mean to me, eighteen years I finally got that back, I’m not gonna do what I gotta do to keep you clear?”

Her eyes went half-mast a half second after they went intense, her mouth got soft then she swallowed before she ran the tip of her tongue along her bottom lip then her teeth sank into it. It sucked he was so fucking pissed at her because, that look on her face, he really wanted to see if her lips tasted like peaches.

She held his eyes and they went back into stare down.

She broke it again by saying softly, “Then you better get dressed to go to church, sweetheart.”

He stared at her.

He should have known. It’d been too easy to talk her down that night when she’d come up with her fool plan to confront the fake TJ Gaines. When Rocky got something in her head, she never let it go. She’d been waiting for her opportunity and here it was. He was cornered. With his mother and boys in the house, they couldn’t have the showdown he needed to stop her.

He should have known.

Shit, he was out of practice. He was going to have to step it up.

Layne leaned in and she braced as he did but held her ground.

“I’ll get changed but, baby, fair warning. You’re gonna pay for pullin’ this shit.”

He watched her eyes get wide right before he turned and walked up the stairs.

The parking lot to the Christian Church was jammed by the time Layne and his family arrived so he let them off at the door, twisting his neck toward the backseat as he did, giving Jasper a look that communicated his responsibility was keeping Rocky out of trouble. Jasper read this loud and clear if his grin was anything to go by, he nodded and Layne watched him stick close to Rocky as they walked in the door.

By the time he parked and made it to the crowded vestibule, he found Rocky, Vera and the boys deep in conversation with a short, squat woman with a dark helmet of hair and very large tits, so large, the blouse she was wearing opened at the buttons, exposing her bra.

He moved in beside Rocky, sliding his arm around her shoulders and Rocky looked up at him with a smile as the woman exclaimed, “Oh my goodness! There you are!” and Layne’s eyes moved to her. When they did, hers shot to Rocky. “Oh Rocky, the girls in the office are right! He’s even more handsome close up! You lucky duck!” she cried loudly.

At that, Layne watched Rocky’s dimple come out.

“Sharon, let me introduce you to Tanner Layne.” Rocky kept smiling at the woman and then turned that smile to Layne. “Layne, this is Sharon Reynolds.”

She emphasized the “Sharon Reynolds”, Layne found that name in his memory banks and looked back at the Church office lady.

“Sharon,” he greeted.

“So nice to meet you and so nice to have you and your Mom back at church.” Sharon turned to his sons. “They used to come here all the time, a long time ago, I remember. Or,” she paused, “at least, your Grandma did before she moved away to Florida.” Her eyes went to Vera. “We sure missed your weekly contributions, I can tell you that.” Then her antennae, obviously always active and working overdrive, dinged, her head suddenly jerked and her eyes focused on someone. “Oh! There’s Gray Lacey,” she announced and everyone turned to look where she was looking. “His offering has been light the last two weeks. He usually gives a hundred dollars and now he’s only giving fifty. This is probably because his wife Donna has been hitting the wine or, I should say,” she paused again to lean in, her eyes never leaving her target, and confided, “hitting it more than usual. I need to go speak to him.” She turned back to them explaining, “Fifty dollars is fifty dollars and a member of this flock shouldn’t be spending that fifty dollars on booze.”

Then she bustled away as they all watched her.

Layne’s arm gave Rocky a squeeze and her eyes came to him.

“Definitely the church needs a new office lady,” he murmured.

“She’s harmless,” Rocky replied.

“I think, sweetcheeks, weekly offerings are confidential and I also think that it’s not a law not to gossip but it is a commandment and we’re standin’ in a building where God pays a fair amount of attention.” Rocky pressed her lips together but her eyes were dancing and she didn’t reply so Layne went on. “Probably coulda asked her for the personnel file and she would have handed it over.”

He heard Rocky’s quiet giggle then they all heard, “Rocky!” and Layne turned to see Josie Judd bearing down on them.

“Hey Josie,” Rocky smiled, moving out of Layne’s arm to give her friend a hug and get one in return.

When they stepped away from each other, Josie’s eyes surveyed the group and went back to Rocky.

“Jeez, you’re a miracle worker, honey,” Josie noted. “I left Chip in his underpants on the couch counting down the minutes to when he can crack open a beer and the kids are all still in bed doin’ their zombie act which they only do on Sunday mornings or on days when they have tests at school. How’d you get these boys all dressed up and to church?”

Layne looked at his sons. Jasper was wearing a pair of chinos and a blue shirt under the leather jacket his Mom bought him last Christmas and Tripp was wearing the same except his shirt was maroon and he had a navy sweater pulled over it. Layne was wearing another suit and shirt that he’d never worn before that Melody had given him.

“Um…” Rocky mumbled and Josie waved her hand between them and kept talking.

“You can share your secrets without an audience and with a bottle of wine,” she stated. “And also when we sit down and talk about the bachelor auction. I had a gab with her and Heidi’s in. Did you talk to Feb and Vi?”

“Bachelor auction?” Layne asked.

Rocky ignored him and answered Josie, “I had a word with Vi yesterday, she’s in and she said she’d talk with Feb, Cheryl and Jackie.”

“Bachelor auction?” Layne repeated.

“This is going to be so fun!” Josie exclaimed. “I love it!”

Layne claimed Rocky with an arm around her shoulders again, turned her into his side, dipped his head and asked yet again, “Sweetcheeks, bachelor auction?”

“We’re doing a bachelor auction for Meghan Reilly,” Josie answered before Rocky could and Layne looked at her. “Gettin’ all the single boys at the police department and fire station to volunteer. Havin’ a fancy dinner, a band, a casino and sellin’ stuff in silent auctions. Rocky called me yesterday, it was her idea and it’ll be a hoot.”

“Cool!” Tripp entered the conversation.

“You should invite kids. I could talk to some of the football team, they’d go up for auction,” Jasper put in.

Josie swung to him and clapped her hands. “What a great idea! The more the merrier.”

“What’s this?” Vera asked and Layne looked to his mother.

“Meghan Reilly, she’s sick and can’t afford her medication,” Josie answered. “Things are not good, she’s gettin’ behind and Rocky does charity gigs, usually it’s for hospitals and clinics and stuff but this time she’s doin’ it just for Meghan.”

Vera’s eyes hit Rocky but before she could say more, Tripp butted in.

“You go up for auction, Jas, you better get Keira to save up her allowance,” Tripp advised Jasper.

“My woman’ll take care of me, Tripp-o-matic,” Jasper returned arrogantly and Layne’s eyes rolled to the ceiling.

“You could go up for sale too, Dad,” Tripp went on and Layne’s eyes rolled back to his boy. “You’d get top dollar.”

“Think I’m off the market, Pal,” Layne said quietly and felt Rocky’s body go tight before it relaxed against his side just as Josie’s eyes shot to him and a huge smile spread on her face.

“Yeah, Dad, but you aren’t actually off the market and Roc’s loaded. I reckon she’d pay a whack for you,” Tripp went on and every pair of eyes in their huddle turned to him, including Rocky’s.

Fuck, but he was not going up for auction. Firstly, because Rocky wasn’t loaded, she had a nest egg but she didn’t need to be depleting it bidding on him and secondly, because he was not going up for auction.

“We’ll talk about it later,” he muttered, Josie giggled softly, Vera gave him a stare and Rocky looked down at her shoes, that fall of hair that wasn’t tied back in the ponytail at the nape of her neck not succeeding in hiding her smile.

Vera saved him by announcing, “We should probably find a pew.”

“Good idea,” Rocky murmured and looked at Josie. “Sit with us?”

“You bet,” Josie replied and they all moved into the sanctuary.

They were there approximately thirty seconds when Rocky and Layne spied him at the same time.

He was at the front of the church, wearing about the same outfit as Jasper except he had dark blue pants. Even so, it was plain to see it wasn’t the same quality. Both Layne’s boys cared about their appearance and their clothes, it was essential to the high school experience and Jasper, mostly, but Tripp also, had a role amongst their peers to lead the pack of high school cool. Layne knew exactly how expensive their clothes were since he’d paid for them.

The man at the front of the church’s clothes were of lower quality but that was a deception, something Rutledge had not yet learned. Layne knew this was a deception because the man at the front of the church had more shit in his hair than Tripp and a haircut that he didn’t get at a barber. He also had a tan that wasn’t from the sun or from an olive skin tone. It was October in Indiana and unless someone was fresh from vacation, no one had a tan.

And he was extremely good-looking, out of a magazine good-looking and he had an easy, very white smile that he was shining on the flock of girls surrounding him.

Bleached teeth, carefully crafted tanning bed tan and a fifty dollar haircut.

Definitely not a Youth Minister.

“Excuse me,” Rocky murmured and slid away from him before he could catch her.

She wasn’t three strutting strides away before Layne ordered a simple, “Tripp.”

“On it,” Tripp muttered and moved to follow Rocky.

Rocky strutted naturally but Layne watched and learned something new about his woman. When she meant business, her strut changed, it became subtly more suggestive and a fuckuva lot more watchable. She captured TJ Gaines’s attention ten pews from the front and she kept it. He had teenaged girls hanging on his every word and practically hanging off his every limb, but, for Gaines, they’d vanished. Gaines was watching Rocky and even standing at the front of a church, his look was openly carnal.

Nope, definitely not a Youth Minister.

Rocky rounded the front, hips swaying, ass swinging, and didn’t even glance at him but smiled brightly at someone in the second pew back. She stopped and greeted an old woman Layne didn’t know, going so far as to put a knee to the vacant front pew to lean in, take the old woman’s hand and have a chat. This also meant that tight skirt, which Layne had noticed had a slit up the back, stretched across her hips, thighs and an ass which was now pointed straight out.

Gaines’s eyes locked on her ass and his look kept the carnal but added hungry.

Fuck.

Rocky just hit his radar with a big, fucking ping.

“Shit, Dad, she’s good,” Jasper muttered from beside him.

Layne felt his jaw tighten and he held himself back as Rocky’s attention was caught by a couple of the girls, as she knew it would be, she squeezed the old lady’s hand and turned to the girls and Gaines. He saw her head move around as she greeted Gaines’s entourage and then, even though her back was to Layne, he knew the second her eyes met Gaines’s because he arranged his features to hide the hunger but they didn’t change to kindly Youth Minister. Instead, they changed to blatant interest, an interest she was meant to see, read and, Gaines hoped, act on.

Layne tensed to move when Gaines held out his hand and Rocky’s lifted hers to take it but Layne stopped when Tripp did his thing.

He’d been talking to one of the girls but the minute Rocky’s hand touched Gaines’s, Tripp didn’t hesitate. He turned toward Layne and called, “Okay Dad, we’re comin’!” even though Layne hadn’t said a word.

Then Tripp leaned in, grabbed Rocky’s hand, said a few words to Gaines and the girls around him, turned and tugged Rocky behind him as he led the way back to Layne, Jasper, Vera and Josie, dragging Rocky behind him.

Layne grinned as his son and his woman moved. Tripp grinned back. Rocky didn’t grin. Rocky looked displeased.

Tripp didn’t let Rocky’s hand go until Layne’s arm slid around her shoulders, he pulled her front to his and tipped his chin up at Tripp who stepped away.

Then he dipped his chin down to look at Rocky.

“Not fair,” she whispered before he could speak, “reinforcements.”

“Baby,” he replied on a smile.

“We should sit,” Vera announced abruptly, Rocky’s head turned to her, Layne let Rocky go with a sigh and they all slid into the pew.

Without telling his son to do it, Jasper worked with Layne to engineer the seating arrangement to pin Rocky between them so that Tripp went in first, then Vera, then Jas, then Rocky, then Layne and finally Josie.

The service started and they did a lot of standing, sitting and singing, though Layne didn’t sing. While people’s eyes were to their hymnbooks, Layne’s eyes were locked on Gaines who was sitting in a pew, three rows back and to the side and he had a very pretty, very young blonde girl on one side and a very pretty, very young, redhead on his other side. His entire pew was taken with girls, some pretty, some not-so-pretty but all of them were young. Layne guessed freshman, at most sophomores.

Two seconds after the sermon started, Rocky turned into him and her lips went to his ear.

“He’s not right,” she whispered.

“I know, baby,” he whispered back.

“He’s really not right.” She kept whispering.

Layne turned his head to her, her lips went away from his ear but he put his face close to hers, held her eyes and whispered back, “Baby, I know.”

She gazed at him a second, worry open in her eyes then she nodded and turned to face the front.

Layne glanced back at Gaines and his followers and he felt his gut squeeze.

Then he made a decision.

He leaned in front of Rocky, caught Jasper’s attention and Jasper leaned in front of Rocky too.

“You just went active duty,” Layne murmured, Jasper’s eyes sliced across the church to the third pew then back to Layne.

“Gotcha,” he returned quietly and sat back.

Layne sat back too then glanced at Rocky and saw she was smiling.

After the sermon, Layne walked back into the vestibule holding Rocky’s hand and they stopped when one of his mother’s friends called her name and Vera broke off to greet her.

Five seconds later, Layne felt Rocky’s hand squeeze his tightly, he looked down at her to see her eyes directed across the vestibule and his eyes followed hers.

Gaines was again tending his flock but the very pretty, very young redhead was close to him and had a hand resting on his chest. She couldn’t be more than fourteen but she rested her hand on his chest the way Rocky would rest hers on Layne’s.

Layne’s stomach roiled.

This wasn’t about God, Jesus and religion. It also wasn’t about drugs. This was what he’d suspected it was, but hoped it wasn’t. It was about something else, something far worse than drugs.

But what Layne didn’t get was that the guy wasn’t hiding it. It was like he had carte blanche to cultivate his underage harem right in the vestibule of the church. And, if he was into young girls, how could he also be so blatantly into Rocky?

Layne scanned the crowd and he saw some adults had their eyes on the group, their manner watchful and uncomfortable. Parents who had concerns but who were not stepping in.

Layne looked back at Gaines whose hand was dropping from doing something around the redhead’s ear.

Dedication.

Those girls were devoted not to their faith in Jesus but to their worship of TJ Gaines. These parents had had words and the girls had gone teenaged girl berserk. The parents were either lazy and didn’t want the headache of dealing with pissed off teenaged girls in the throes of a very sick crush or they had nothing to go on but speculation they really hoped wasn’t accurate.

In the ‘burg, it was undoubtedly the latter.

Layne looked at his sons. “Jas, Tripp, shut that shit down,” he growled and both his boys nodded and wove through the crowd.

“Layne?” Rocky called on a whisper and Layne looked down at her.

“New plan, sweetcheeks,” he replied.

“That would be?” she prompted.

“Steppin’ it up,” Layne returned.

“Stepping it up?” she asked and he bent to her.

“That man needs competition,” he whispered.

“I thought you said he wouldn’t like anyone, even high school boys, cutting into his action.”

“He won’t,” Layne stated.

“So?”

“So, I’m hopin’ that he’ll act to defend his territory and fuck up or he’ll realize he’s blown and get outta town.”

“I thought you wanted to take him down,” Rocky noted.

“I did. Don’t like the idea of him movin’ on to other prey but, right now, seein’ that shit with my own eyes, I don’t like that his prey are my people. We can’t take him down, I want him outta the ‘burg.”

She stared up at him a second before she gave him the dimple and moved closer.

When she got close, she tipped her head way back and whispered, “You probably shouldn’t say the f-word in a church, Layne.”

“Think God’s got bigger concerns in his house than me droppin’ the f-bomb, sweetcheeks.”

The dimple depressed deeper, her hand lifted to curl her fingers around his neck and she got up on her toes to touch her mouth to his.

“Uh…” they heard Josie mumble from close and both of them turned their heads to her, “you wanna let me in on what you two are whispering about?”

“Not really,” Layne replied and Rocky giggled.

“We’re just discussing what we’re going to have for dinner,” Rocky lied.

“Right,” Josie returned, her eyes sharp and intelligent. “You two have been on Code Red Alert since you entered the sanctuary.” Her eyes locked on Layne. “What gives?”

Before he could answer, or in this case not answer, Rocky suddenly called, “Harry!” Then her head swung to Josie and she said, “I’ll call you later, honey, okay?” And before Josie could answer or Layne could get his eyes on what had her attention, she moved away from him and toward Harrison Rutledge.

Layne’s body locked as he watched Rocky greet Rutledge by putting her hand on his shoulder and kissing his cheek.

Considering Layne spent a fair amount of time following Rutledge, he knew that Rutledge rarely missed Sunday church. He’d never understood why a man who wasn’t smart enough to hide he was on the take went to church but he suspected it was precisely that, an effort to hide he was on the take.

He’d forgotten about Rutledge but Rocky hadn’t.

She knew he’d be there.

Shit, she’d orchestrated one helluva a play. Two birds with one stone.

“Excuse me,” Layne muttered to Josie and followed Rocky.

“You’d so do me a favor if you could help out,” he heard Rocky saying as he got close and Rutledge’s eyes moved to him and went wary.

“Rutledge,” Layne greeted as he hit them and he slid an arm around Rocky’s waist, pulling her away from Rutledge and tucking her into his side.

“Tanner,” Rutledge greeted back.

Rocky looked up at Layne. “I’ve asked him to go up for auction. He’d be perfect!” She looked back at Rutledge and lied, “The women will be at each other’s throats for you.”

Harrison Rutledge wasn’t exactly ugly but at 5’10” with light brown hair that was quickly thinning and a gut that was equally quickly forming, he wasn’t exactly calendar man material either.

“I don’t know, Rocky,” Rutledge muttered.

“Oh you have to do it,” Rocky urged. “Layne won’t because he’s with me, Colt is taken and we need as many hot guys as we can get.”

“Have you talked to Mike?” Rutledge asked.

“He’s on my list!” Rocky answered enthusiastically, Rutledge looked unconvinced and she leaned forward, grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze. “Just think about it, Harry,” she asked and dropped his hand but tilted her head. “For me?”

Rutledge stared at her, smiled and said, “All right, Rocky, I’ll think about it.”

She clapped her hands and cried, “Great!” before looking at Layne and saying, “Isn’t that great, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, baby, great,” Layne muttered to her and looked at Rutledge. “It’d help out a lot, man. Sean would be grateful.”

Rutledge’s eyes went from wary to guarded, he watched Layne a beat then nodded. “I’d do anything for Sean.”

Fucking lying sack of shit.

“Perfect!” Rocky exclaimed with a little jump and Rutledge’s eyes shot to her tits to watch them bounce.

Sack of shit.

Layne was done and he communicated this by giving Rocky a squeeze and saying, “I missed out on pancakes, sweetcheeks. We need to get home. I’m starved.”

She looked up at him and slid an arm around his waist. “Right, of course.” Her gaze went to Rutledge. “See you later?”

“Later, Rocky.” He nodded to Layne. “Tanner.”

“Later,” Layne grunted and moved Rocky away.

When they’d taken five steps, she muttered under her breath, “That went well.”

“Do me a favor,” Layne muttered back.

“What?” she asked.

“Don’t jump around that asshole.”

She stopped and looked up at him, confused. “Why?”

He looked down at her. “Baby, you got a great rack. Gonna have to put up with everyone noticing it but don’t wanna have to put up with that assclown’s eyes locked on it.”

Understanding flooded her face, understanding and disgust.

“Oh,” she whispered.

“Oh,” Layne repeated.

“Okay, I won’t jump,” she relented immediately.

“Appreciate it,” Layne replied.

Vera approached. “I’ve decided on pork chops and au gratin potatoes for dinner,” she announced and then went on. “And I’m making my Milky Way cake.” After this, Layne felt Rocky go completely solid at his side. “We need to get home. I need to get to the store.”

Layne suspected that Vera just pulled out the big guns. Pork chops, au gratin potatoes and Milky Way cake were his favorite and Rocky knew it because she was the one who’d made him his first Milky Way cake on the first birthday he’d celebrated with her and Vera had been there. Milky Way cake wasn’t Vera’s, it was Rocky’s. Except the fact that Vera had a variety of occasions in the last eighteen years to make it for him and Rocky had not. Layne wasn’t hip on chick war tactics but he suspected his mother just escalated hostilities.

“Ma –” Layne started to warn but Vera cut him off.

“We need to go,” she stated. “I’ll go get the boys.” Then she hustled in the direction of Jasper and Tripp, who’d managed to pry a throng of girls from TJ Gaines’s snare and were shining their football stud light upon them.

Layne’s eyes went to Rocky to see her eyes on his mother.

“Roc –”

“That’s my cake,” she whispered, her eyes still on his mother.

Layne sighed, then repeated, “Roc –”

Her gaze shot to his. “She can’t have that cake.”

“Just let her do what she thinks she has to do.”

Rocky glared at him then her eyes changed and Layne’s neck contracted when they did because he didn’t like what he saw before she hid it by looking away from him.

“Rocky?” he called.

She looked at him again. “You know, I haven’t made that cake in years. Not for Dad, not for Merry, even when they asked for it, and not for Jarrod.”

He understood the look, both his hands went to her hips and he murmured, “Baby.”

“That’s my cake,” she repeated, back to whispering. “And she knows it.”

Then she pulled from his hands and strutted away.

Yep, he was right, an escalation in hostilities.

He took in a deep breath through his nose, looked to see his mother corralling his sons and when they started to walk his way, Layne turned and followed Rocky to the car.

When they hit the house, Rocky was still pissed at Vera and, wordlessly, she marched through the house and up the stairs.

Layne followed her, not because she was pissed, she’d made that bed by leaving him and she had to deal with his mother her way. He’d said his piece, Vera had ignored it, Rocky clearly wasn’t going to bolt because of Vera’s antics so now he wasn’t getting involved.

No, he followed her because he was pissed. She’d made her play and got her way and Layne didn’t like how she went about it. It didn’t matter that she was right, putting that shit with Gaines under his nose so he’d intensify the operation. Because, in doing it, she’d also put herself out there and that, coupled with how she’d made her play, pissed him off.

It was time to teach Rocky a lesson.

She was halfway across his bedroom when he made it to the door and closed it loudly behind him. The instant he did, she stopped and whirled.

“I’ll be needing to have words with your mother,” she announced.

“Later,” Layne returned, moving toward her.

“No, in about two minutes, before she goes to the grocery store and comes back and steals my cake.”

“Got things bigger than cakes to talk about, sweetcheeks,” Layne replied, still advancing on her, her face cleared, she got a good look at him, she read him and astutely started backing up.

“Layne –” she started, her hand coming up and Layne didn’t stop moving but his eyes went to her hand then back to hers.

“Not wearin’ your bandage,” he remarked.

She kept edging backward, her hand still up and she asked, “What?”

“Bandage, baby, for your wrist,” Layne kept moving forward, she hit the edge of the archway to the bathroom and righted herself instantly, moving backwards into the bathroom.

“Um… it doesn’t hurt anymore,” she replied.

“Doc say you can take it off?” Layne asked as they moved through the bathroom and into walk-in.

“No, Layne, um… what are you doing?”

“I’m talkin’ about your wrist and then, in about two seconds, I’m gonna carry you to my bed, turn you over my knee and slap that sweet ass of yours.”

Her eyes grew round just as she hit the wall of the walk-in.

“Layne –”

He got deep into her space, her hand hit his chest and he kept going, forcing her arm to bend at the elbow and trapping it between them as he put his hands on the wall on either side of her.

“Played me, sweetcheeks.”

“I know.” She surprised him by instantly copping to it. “But it was important.”

“It’s important, we talk about it, you don’t fuck me.”

She stared up at him and rested her free hand at his waist. “I didn’t fuck you, Layne,” she whispered.

“Oh yeah you did, baby, now,” his head dipped and he got in her face, “I fuck you.”

“Layne,” she breathed, her eyes glued to his and hearing that, he lost it.

His hands moved from the wall to her jaws, he tipped her head back further and pulled her up as his mouth slammed down on hers.

She opened it immediately, his tongue slid inside, her arms glided around his shoulders and she pressed herself into him.

He kissed her hard, demanding, wet and she gave it to him, everything he took from her, her fingers moving to his jacket to pull it off his shoulders, he released her face, dropped his arms and let it fall. His hands went directly to her ass, pulling her hips tight against his hardening cock and her hands went to his shirt, pulling it out of his pants, going in, her fingers trailing his skin.

His mouth released hers and travelled down her neck, she turned her head and whispered, “Baby,” in his ear and his hand went under her sweater, up and he cupped her breast. She strained into his hand and repeated her whispered, “Baby.”

She smelled good, she tasted good and her nipple was hard against his palm. She was wearing one of her tight skirts and high heels and Layne liked all of that, he’d been liking it for awhile and he was about to like it a lot more.

“You want it?” he growled in her ear.

“I –” she started and abruptly he pulled away, turned her to facing the wall and moved into her.

“Put your hands to the wall and don’t move them,” he ordered.

“Layne.”

“Do it. Now.”

“Layne.”

He pressed his hard cock into her ass. “Now, sweetcheeks.”

She put her hands to the wall, he pulled her tight skirt up her thighs and heard her suck in breath as he looked down.

Fuck, she was wearing lace-topped thigh highs and satin-backed, dark blue panties that showed a fuckuva lot of cheek.

Christ, hot.

“Layne,” she repeated on a breath, he got her skirt around her waist and one hand went down, in the front her panties and the other hand went up, yanking her sweater over her tits, then he jerked down her bra and his fingers tugged her nipple.

That got him another gasp, his finger hit her clit, her hips jerked and she whispered, “Oh my God,” and moved to press back into him.

“Keep your hands on the wall,” he growled in her ear, working her clit and nipple at the same time.

Her head fell back on his shoulder and her breath got heavy.

“Oh my God,” she repeated, turning so her forehead was pressed to his neck, her back arched into his hand and her hips ground down into his fingers.

“You like this?” he asked even though he knew she did, he wanted to make her say it.

“Yes,” she breathed.

He stopped playing with her clit, thrust two fingers into her drenched pussy and turned his head to watch her neck arch, pressing her head against his shoulder, her lips parted. She pushed back against him, losing concentration, her hands slipping down the wall.

“Hands to the wall, Rocky,” he ordered and her hips jerked as his fingers moved in and out of her and his other hand worked her tit.

“You,” she breathed urgently after he’d worked her for awhile.

“You’ll get me, baby,” he promised, watching her face, “fuck yourself on my fingers.”

She instantly did as she was told, Rocky, his Rocky, Jesus, so fucking hot. She took herself close, so close, she was reaching for it, it was going to be good and watching her he nearly came in his pants.

When she was almost there, he moved away, she gasped and started to turn.

“Hands to the wall,” he demanded, she kept her hands to the wall but twisted her neck to look at him, her eyes unfocused, her face filled with need and he hooked her panties with his thumb and tore them down her legs. “Step outta those.” She did as ordered again, Layne freed his cock from his pants and went on. “Spread your legs.” She again did what she was told, tipping her ass to him, ready for it, nonverbally begging for it. “That’s it,” he growled, bent his knees and thrust into her.

Fucking bliss.

“Oh God,” she whimpered and he drove into her, one arm wrapped around her belly, he moved his hand from her breast and covered her mouth as the moans came.

“Take me, Rocky,” he grunted as he drove harder, faster and listened as her stifled moans got deeper.

He kept at her, knowing it was building in her as it built in him until her head shot back, colliding with his shoulder and he felt her mouth open against his palm as her pussy tightened around his cock.

Beautiful.

He let go, drove in deep and exploded.

Fucking beautiful.

Christ, but he loved her.

He rode her gently as he came down then rooted himself and used his hand at her jaw to twist her neck so he could take her mouth in a kiss. Her tongue danced with his before he pulled out, turned her back to the wall and kissed her again while he shoved the skirt back down her hips.

His mouth left hers but their eyes locked, her arms wrapped around his back, one of his hands at her neck, the other one righting his pants as they stared at each other.

She dropped her eyes, pressed in and kissed his throat, her lips stayed there and he felt them move when she said, “Today is starting a lot better than yesterday.”

He grinned, his hand moving to her jaw to tip her head back so he could look at her.

“It ain’t Ozzie and Harriet, sweetcheeks,” he remarked.

“Poor Ozzie and Harriet,” she replied.

His grin turned into a smile before he got serious.

“Don’t play me again, Roc, you want something, we talk about it.”

Rocky didn’t feel like getting serious.

“I’m not sure that was a deterrent, baby, more like an incentive.”

“I’m bein’ serious,” he informed her.

“So am I,” she shot back.

He looked down at her face and it hit him that she looked happy. She hadn’t looked happy any of the times he’d seen her since he’d been home and now she looked happy. And he knew it was only part just having an orgasm against the wall in his closet. It was mostly being with Layne in his closet.

His irritation slid away as that look on her face settled deep in his soul. He slid his thumb along her cheekbone and softly asked her the same question she’d asked him last night.

“What am I gonna do with you, Raquel Merrick?”

Her expression shifted, he couldn’t quite read it but it looked like she was scared. It was not exactly fear, instead she looked anxious and maybe even timid before her quiet words explained her look.

“Anything you want, Layne, as long as you’re with me when you do it.”

There it was. Thank fuck, there it was.

Rocky was going to take a chance again on dark and wild.

Layne felt another golden trail burn through him but he asked just to confirm.

“I take it that means we don’t need to have a conversation tomorrow night.”

Rocky studied him only a beat before she nodded.

Layne grinned.

Then he dipped his face close and whispered, “Go get cleaned up, sweetcheeks.”

“Okay,” she whispered back, touched her mouth to his and slid out from in front of him.

She started to walk away but turned back suddenly, dropped to a knees-closed crouch, nabbed her panties and tossed them into the mostly empty but still partly filled hamper. Then she threw him a satisfied grin and walked into the bathroom.

Layne looked at her panties knowing exactly what they said.

Vera could have Milky Way cake and Layne’s laundry but Rocky had her panties in that laundry, panties he’d torn down her legs before he fucked her.

It was a dirty play, a hit below the belt, but it made her point irrevocably.

His hands went to the buttons of his shirt and he smiled.

His mother was a contender but Rocky was definitely fighting to win.