Golden Trail

Chapter Twenty-Four The Man You Would Become

Monday, 5:12 a.m.

“Layne,” Rocky breathed, one of her hands in his hair, cupping the back of his head tight, one of her arms caught under his body, her fingers curled into his ass.

“That’s it, baby,” Layne whispered, watching her face in the shadows as his fingers toyed with intent in the wetness between her legs.

“Oh God,” she breathed, her back arching, she was close.

“Give it to me, Rocky,” he ordered.

Her fingers clenched his ass.

“Come inside,” she begged.

“After you come.”

“Now, baby, please,” she whispered.

“After.”

Her hips ground into his hand. “I want your cock.”

“You’ll get it.”

“Oh God.”

“That’s it.”

“God, Layne.”

“That’s it, baby,” he whispered, dropped his head, took her nipple between his lips and pulled hard.

That did it, her back left the bed and a ragged moan tore from her throat.

Layne’s fingers left her pussy, he rolled over her, her legs spread wide for him even as she was coming and his fucking cell phone rang.

“No,” she whispered.

“Fuck, you gotta be fuckin’ shittin’ me,” Layne growled, kept himself seated between her legs and reached out for the phone.

He turned it to face him, saw what was on the display and growled again, this time with no words.

Then he flipped it open and put it to his ear.

“This better be fuckin’ good.” He was still growling.

Rocky lifted her knees, pressed her thighs against his sides as her arms wound around his back, the tip of his cock slid through her wetness and Layne clenched his teeth.

“Did I wake you?” Sully asked.

“No,” Layne grunted.

Silence then, “Oh.”

“Sully,” Layne rumbled.

“Right, okay, well, thought you’d want to know. Adrian Cosgrove is incarcerated. Chris Renicki and Marty Fink found him about two hours ago. He had enough Rohypnol on him to roofie the entire junior class. Possession of an illegal substance, conspiracy to commit a felony, violating his bond agreement –”

Layne cut him off. “I get it, he’s fucked.”

“He’s fucked,” Sully confirmed.

“Good. Can I go now?” Layne asked with only an edge of patience.

Layne heard Sully chuckle and he again clenched his teeth.

“Yep,” Sully answered.

Layne flipped his phone shut, tossed it on the bed and bent his head toward Rocky.

“Is everything –?” she started.

“Fine,” Layne gritted then he drove his cock into her and her back left the bed again as a mew slid out of her throat.

Jesus. Heaven. All of it.

Then he bent his head further and kissed his woman at the same time he fucked her.

Hard.

Monday, 6:21 a.m.

Layne laid on his back in bed, his head resting on his hands, and listened to Rocky in her bathroom.

His mind wasn’t on the sweet orgasm he’d had or the one he’d given her. It also wasn’t on the noises coming from the bathroom. It further wasn’t on the million and freaking three things he had going on in his life.

His mind was on walking into Vi and Cal’s house and seeing Raquel sitting cross-legged on the floor with Vi and Cal’s baby daughter Angela bouncing on her little feet in Rocky’s lap. Rocky was holding Angela’s little hands and laughing in Angela’s giggling face.

Back in the day, they’d planned to have three kids. They were both agreed on that, it was definite. Three. Layne had no siblings, he’d always wanted one and he’d wanted one more seeing how Roc was with her brother. Rocky had a brother and she loved him so she would have been happy to have another brother or a sister, she didn’t care. Family meant everything to her, the bigger, the better. So they decided three, definitely three.

He had two.

Rocky had none.

Rocky walked out of the bathroom carrying a mug of coffee, her hair up in a twist at the back and she was wearing a dark green set of underwear, satin with a hint of dark gray lace. Layne had learned this meant she was wearing green somewhere on her body that day. Rocky had a lot of underwear in a lot of colors and she matched it to her outfits. This, too, was new and this, too, Layne liked. He liked it because, even if he didn’t see her dress, he could make a fair guess at what she was wearing under her clothes.

And he liked that a lot.

“Baby, come here,” he called and she looked his way.

“I have to get to work, sweetheart.”

“Come here,” he repeated, she stopped in the doorway to her closet, stared at him a second and walked to him.

When she got close, Layne did an ab curl, grabbed one of her wrists and took the mug of coffee from her other hand. He set it on the nightstand then, with a tug on her wrist, he laid back down and Rocky hit him full frontal.

“Layne!”

His arms moved around her, trapping her.

“I have to get to work,” she repeated.

“I know but I have to ask you something.”

She stopped pressing back when she paid attention to his face.

Then she whispered, “What?”

“You want kids?” Layne asked, straight out.

Her body jerked then she repeated, “What?” but it was breathy this time.

“You want kids?”

“I… um…” she stammered then her eyes slid to the pillow beside his head.

“Eyes to me, Roc,” he ordered and her eyes shot back.

“Yes,” she answered, that one word quick, forced out and openly scared. He knew this because she barely hissed out the “s” before her body braced.

He grinned at her and whispered, “Good, baby, how many you want? Two, three?”

She stared in his eyes, her body still, her eyes getting bright and her nostrils quivered. She was going to cry and to fight it back, she served up attitude.

“What?” she whispered back, “Are you growing an army?”

Layne laughed, rolled her to her back, rolled right on top of her and buried his face in her neck.

“You didn’t answer,” he said into her neck.

“Layne, you’re messing up my hair.”

He lifted his head. “Sweetcheeks, answer my question.”

She glared at him, pure bullshit, he could see she was happy and his chest squeezed at the sight.

“One, if it’s a boy. If it’s a girl, two but only with the hopes of having another girl.”

“Evening out the numbers?”

“No.”

Layne’s brows went up. “You don’t like boys?”

“Little boy clothes aren’t as cute as little girl clothes.”

Layne stared at her and saw she was being serious, basing her desire of what gender child she wanted to have on shopping.

Then he muttered, “Jesus.”

“They aren’t,” Rocky defended.

“Girls means I’ve got Cal’s headaches and gotta pray every night they meet a boy like Jas, when Jas is into them, that is. Boys you just give condoms.”

Her body locked under his and she snapped, “Layne!”

“It’s true.”

“Boys means I have to hope they don’t pay a lot of attention to their badass Dad and don’t want a career where they sleep with a gun under their pillow.”

He grinned. “You caught that?”

“Hard to miss when I put your pajamas on it, Layne.”

His voice softened when he assured her, “It’s just a precaution.”

“Against your enemies or the pissed off fathers of Jasper’s pre-Keira escapades?”

He grinned again. “You caught that too?”

“Kids talk and, by the way, that’s reason two, no boys.”

“Why?”

“How many more reasons do you want?” she asked.

“Twelve,” he answered.

“A girl…” she stopped, her eyes unfocused and her body got tight and when she spoke again he knew into his soul, it wasn’t to him. “A girl I can teach, I can tell her things, I can show her the way, I can explain the stuff that will happen in her life.” Her eyes refocused and her body relaxed under his. “A girl I can give all that my Mom never got the chance to give me.”

“Girls it is then,” Layne whispered instantly and he watched Rocky blink, her face startled before that surprise died, hope filled the space it left and she smiled.

“Is that a guarantee, Tanner Layne?” she whispered back.

“Nope, but I’ll see what I can do.”

Her hand came to his jaw, her thumb sweeping his cheek then his lips before it slid across to wrap around his chin, she lifted up and touched her mouth to his.

She dropped her head back to the bed and whispered, “I have to get to work, baby.”

“Yeah,” he replied then dropped his head to kiss her and he did it a lot harder and a lot longer and Layne’s kiss was wet.

Then he rolled off her, watched her roll off the bed and walk to the closet.

Girls.

The first one they’d name Cecilia.

Tuesday, 6:53 p.m.

Layne jogged up Rocky’s steps, slid his key in her door and walked in to soft lighting, soft music and candles lit around the room.

He closed the door and turned toward the kitchen where Rocky was standing wearing a purple t-shirt with a snarling white bulldog on the front and she was looking at him.

“Sweetcheeks, I appreciate the effort but I gotta tell you, I’m a sure thing.”

She grinned but planted her hands on her hips. “A house doesn’t always have to be filled with the sounds of shoulder pads crunching and grunting and the smell of stale beer,” she returned.

“Nope,” he agreed, shrugging off his jacket and walking to the armchair. “Sometimes it has to be filled with the sounds of shoes skidding on a court and whistles blowing and the smell of nacho cheese.”

He tossed his jacket on the chair and turned just in time to brace because Rocky had run from the kitchen and was in the act of launching herself in his arms.

He caught her at the ass, she wrapped her arms and legs around him and dropped her head, her mouth hitting his, opening, his opened in return and her tongue slid inside.

He let her kiss him then he growled and took over the kiss until she mewed and then her head came up and she looked him in the eye.

“Catch any bad guys?” she whispered as he walked her to the kitchen.

“Unfortunately… no,” he whispered back.

Her brows went up. “Any bad women?”

“Ditto on the no.”

“Damn.” She was still whispering and he set her ass on the counter, she kept her limbs tight around him so he moved in close and wrapped his arms around her.

Layne changed the subject. “What’s for dinner?”

“Mushroom risotto.”

It was Layne’s turn to lift his brows. “Does that have meat in it?”

She smiled. “Um… no. It has mushrooms in it.”

“Pepperoni?”

“No.”

“Sausage?”

“No.”

“Hamburger?”

She started giggling and forced out a, “No.”

“Baby,” Layne whispered.

“You’ll like it. It has lots of parmesan cheese in it and cheese makes everything awesome.”

Christ.

Jasper had said that and she remembered, she remembered what his boy said.

Christ. He loved her.

He didn’t tell her that, instead he asked, “Is this my welcome home every night?”

“Do you want it to be?”

“Yeah.”

“Then yeah.”

Fuck, he remembered this. This hadn’t changed. Coming home to Rocky had always been the best part of the day. Always.

Shit yeah, he loved her.

“You gonna feed me or let me fuck you on the kitchen counter?”

Her mouth got soft, her eyelids lowered but she asked, “Without food, do you have strength to fuck me on the kitchen counter?”

“Haven’t had anything since breakfast.”

Her lips tipped up. “Then I’m going to feed you.”

“All right, then I’m gonna get a beer.”

She didn’t let him go and Layne didn’t move.

“Sweetcheeks,” he prompted as her limbs got tighter, her face got softer and her eyes dropped to his mouth

She was changing her mind and Layne liked the direction it turned so he slid his hands up her back.

Then she froze.

“I still don’t have blinds,” she whispered.

Shit.

“Right,” Layne whispered back, she moved in, touched her mouth to his then released her limbs.

Layne got a beer, Rocky took another sip from her white wine before she pulled a pan out of the oven. Then she fed Layne mushroom risotto and it was pretty good.

But it could use meat.

Wednesday, 4:02 p.m.

Layne’s cell rang, he looked from Dev sitting across from him in his office to his cell on the desk. He read the display, gave Devin a one minute finger, picked up his cell, flipped it open and put it to his ear.

“What’s up, sweetcheeks?” he said by way of greeting.

“Something weird just happened,” Rocky replied and Layne’s eyes shot to Devin as the muscles in his neck got tight.

“What?”

“Um… a woman came up to me after school and talked to me like she knew me. Really chatty, really friendly and, Layne, she talked for ages. I’ve seen her around, not much but I’ve seen her around. Her name is Lissa McGraw. She’s Alexis’s Mom.”

“And,” Layne prompted when she hesitated.

“Well, she said that you and her man are tight, you’re partners and since you’re partners, we should all get to know each other and to do that we should have dinner. So she kind of set a double date before the game on Friday and then said we could all go to the game together. I didn’t know what to say. She was so friendly, I couldn’t refuse. Um… do you have a partner?”

Layne relaxed, sat back and his eyes dropped to the desk as he grinned. “That’s Ryker’s woman.”

“Ryker the big biker guy?”

“Yeah.”

“Is he your partner?”

“No, he isn’t my partner but I’m his.”

“What?”

“Ryker and I view our relationship in different ways.”

“Oh,” she whispered then shared, “He’s kind of scary.”

“He can be,” Layne agreed. “He also cares a lot about Lissa and her daughter.”

There was a hesitation and then, “So, he’s big and scary and looks somewhat like a raving lunatic but he’s good people.”

Layne’s grin got bigger. “Yep, that’s about it, sweetcheeks.”

“Are we having dinner with them?”

“That isn’t at the top of my list of things I wanna do but I get the sense that big, scary, raving lunatic Ryker does not have a lot of buds and Ryker tells me Lissa spends a lotta her time working her ass off to give her girl a decent life and likely, with Ryker her man and him looking like a raving lunatic, she doesn’t have a lot of chicks of her own so I reckon they’re recruitin’ a posse and we’re pretty much the only candidates in the ‘burg who wouldn’t run a mile. Not to mention, Alexis was a target and we made it so she was safe so I’m guessin’ Lissa feels grateful and friendship is a good gift to give when you don’t have much else to offer.”

“So,” Rocky said, drawing out the word, “we’re having dinner with them.”

“Wouldn’t kill us.”

“You like him,” she observed.

“He’s solid,” Layne replied.

“I liked her, she’s nice and it was kind of sad because she also seemed desperate which she shouldn’t have to be because, well… she was so nice.”

“Proves my point.”

“Yeah,” she whispered.

“He wants her to have a decent life, baby,” Layne whispered back. “He’s not a man who shares much but what he says, she hasn’t had it too good and he wants her to have good.”

“He doesn’t scare me anymore.”

“He shouldn’t. Can’t say he’d lay down his life for you but you’re my woman and if anyone hurt you, he wouldn’t blink before huntin’ them down and breakin’ their neck just because he’s built a connection to me and that’s his kind of justice. And I’m not sayin’ that to say it, Roc, I mean he’d hunt them down and break their neck… literally.”

He could tell she was smiling when she said, “Now, I’m beginning to like him.”

Layne chuckled.

“Are you busy?” she asked.

“I’m always busy,” he answered.

“I’ll let you go.”

“What’s for dinner tonight?”

“Meat.”

“Just meat?”

“Yep, a smorgasbord of meat.”

“You’re full of shit,” he muttered through a smile.

“See you later,” she replied through a giggle.

“Later, sweetcheeks.”

He flipped his phone shut, looked at Devin and felt his neck muscles contract again when he caught the look on Devin’s face.

“What?” Layne asked when Devin didn’t speak.

Devin shook his head.

“What, old man?”

“Just thinkin’, thinkin’ about a man who’d walk out a door and never turn back. Thinkin’ about where he went, what he did and how it could never be worth losin’ what he left behind. Your father is a grade A, one hundred percent, jackass, boy, turnin’ his back and never knowin’ the man you would become.”

Layne didn’t speak, his throat was burning, his chest was frozen and that golden trail was searing through his system.

Then he found his voice. “You gonna kiss me?”

Devin rolled his eyes.

“A hug?” Layne suggested.

Devin’s eyes narrowed.

Layne stared into them. Then he said, “Thanks.”

Devin replied with, “Right.”

Moving on.

“I need you to get to Jeremy,” Layne stated.

“We need more time,” Dev surmised.

“We’ve run everyone in her crew and they own no property. Phone records show calls to her crew but she must use a disposable to talk to clients. She’s not leadin’ us anywhere. Merry interrogated Jeremy before we let him go and he doesn’t know shit about her operation outside his part in it. She compartmentalizes. Everyone has their job and only their job. Even if we picked one of them up and they rolled, they couldn’t give us anything. The location of the photo shoot was a day rental. Jeremy has been unable to find what she’s got on Rutledge. Merry’s chompin’ at the bit to put pressure on Rutledge and he’s stepped out. Confronted Rutledge about the missing person call for Giselle he didn’t report he took on his own and then didn’t follow procedure. Colt and Sully backed him up on that. All their asses are swinging out there now. Rutledge had a bullshit excuse and he’s full of bravado. Merry and Colt thought he’d run scared but he’s keepin’ his shit together. We’re not getting anything. We need time and we need Jeremy to dig, get her talking in the apartment and to do that, he’s gonna need a coach. That coach is you.”

“I’ll pick him up.”

“You gotta play that smart, Dev. We want him scared but we don’t want him to fuck up.”

“Don’t have to tell me that, boy.”

Layne nodded. “I wanna know who her clients are, who she has lined up for the party. We pull one of them in, they’ll probably roll over.”

“You think she’ll give that up to Jeremy?” Devin asked, his eyebrows up.

“No, but we gotta try.”

“Desperate times,” Devin muttered. “But even if we get one, the event hasn’t taken place nor is it goin’ to.”

“Nope, but we could use them for a set up. They could act impatient enough to want something, even if it isn’t fresh, and she’s got a stable of girls, she could give it to them. They could at least lead us to that.”

Devin nodded. Then he put his hands together in front of him in prayer position and pressed them against his lips as his eyes grew intense.

Layne knew what that meant.

“You’ve got a bad feeling,” Layne noted.

Dev dropped his hands. “You don’t?”

“I do.”

“In my gut, boy. This is gonna go south and not them slippin’ through our fingers. I can’t shake the thought that we’re missin’ somethin’.”

“Vigilance.”

“Yeah.”

They held each other’s eyes then Devin stood as the beep came and both men looked at the monitors to see Vera walking up the stairs.

Devin’s eyes came to Layne. “Like her a lot more, she’s not bein’ a bitch to Rocky.”

“Someone made me the man I am.”

Devin nodded his head but whispered, “True enough, to a point. Men like you aren’t made, though, Tanner. Men like you just are.” His eyes turned to the monitor as Vera nearly made the landing and he remarked, “But, gotta say, boy, your mother can fuckin’ cook.”

With that, he walked out of Layne’s office as the outside door opened and Vera walked in.

“Devin!” Layne heard her cry. “I’m glad I ran into you. Flo and Helen are coming over tonight. I’m making my beef and noodles. You’ll love it.”

Oh shit. Vera was matchmaking.

His Aunt Flo and Vera’s friend Helen were both single. And, unlike his mother, who got burned bad enough she never went there again, they were both on the market. His Aunt Flo had been married but Layne’s Uncle Gene died seven years ago. His mother’s friend Helen had been married as many times as Devin. Flo turned Dev’s eye, he’d think he’d died and gone to heaven, good food, lots of attention, a listening ear and no questions asked about his activities. Helen turned Dev’s eye, he’d be in a world of hurt because she was seriously high maintenance. Flo looked, acted and dressed like his mother, she was far from hard on the eyes, made an effort, had style, knew herself and was comfortable with who she was. Helen looked, acted and dressed like a woman who wanted attention and a lot of it. That said, she was a beautiful woman, even at the age of sixty-three.

If Layne had to place a bet on which one Dev would pick, it would be Helen.

“Don’t know when I’ll be home, woman,” Devin said to Vera.

“Oh, even if you’re late, we’ll keep it warm for you,” Vera replied.

“Right,” Devin muttered and Layne knew he was leaving because he heard Vera call, “See you later!”

Devin made no reply.

Vera came into the office.

“Hi honey,” she greeted and Layne stood as she rounded his desk and he bent so she could kiss his cheek.

“Hey, Ma,” Layne murmured.

She squeezed his arm, turned and bustled away and Layne resumed his seat as she sat opposite him.

“I just got off the phone with Rocky. Tomorrow after she gets off work, we’re going furniture shopping,” she announced, plonking her purse on her lap.

“What?” Layne asked.

“You need a dining room table. You also need something for that front space. I’m thinking a reading area. Chaise lounge. An elegant table. A floor lamp.”

Fucking hell.

“Ma –”

She cut him off. “I’ll be in the office tomorrow during the day. I talked to Dave. He said you need listeners and I’m a good listener. I can do some office work while I’m at it.”

He wasn’t going to turn that down.

“Ma, the furniture –”

Vera looked him straight in the eye. “Is Rocky eventually going to move in?”

“Yeah,” Layne answered.

“Then you need to give her a home to move into.”

“It’s already a home, Ma, and she hasn’t complained.”

“She moves in, are you going to go furniture shopping?”

“Fuck no.”

She threw out a hand and announced, “No time like the present.”

She had him there so Layne grinned.

“You’re a nut,” he muttered.

“Yep,” she replied on a smile.

“You gonna stay in town much longer?”

She tipped her head to the side and shared, “Florida isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. They have hurricanes and they don’t have Hilligoss donuts.”

This was true and Hilligoss was worth moving back home. So was being close to her grandsons before they both moved off to educate themselves and start their lives as well as being close to her son when he was happy and last, being close to Rocky again.

“So you’re moving back.”

She answered with, “I can do your books.”

That wasn’t a receptionist but it was something.

“Thanks, Ma.”

“You’re welcome, Tanner.”

“By the way, I’m not sure you’d be doin’ Aunt Flo or Helen a favor, hookin’ them up to Devin. He’s not young but that doesn’t mean he’s not wild.”

She cocked her head to the side again. “Hooking him up with Flo or Helen?”

“I know your game.”

She smiled and it was a smile he’d never seen before in his life.

Then she suddenly stood, hitched her purse on her shoulder and walked to the door. In the door, she turned and leveled her gaze on his.

“It isn’t Flo or Helen makin’ him beef and noodles, Tanner.”

Holy fuck.

Layne stared.

Then he started, “Ma –”

Her smile turned lazy and Layne didn’t know what to do with that because he was a man and she was his mother, for fuck’s sake, and as a man, he knew what that smile communicated and he hoped to all that was holy she never directed that smile at Devin. The man wouldn’t stand a chance.

“All these years, after your father, never met a man who was worth the trouble because, except to get you, your father proved not worth the trouble,” she remarked.

“Ma –”

“Until now.”

Oh shit.

“Ma –”

“See you later, honey,” she said cheerfully, turned and walked out.

Layne stared at the door. Then he shook his head.

Then he started laughing as he reached for his phone to call Rocky.

Thursday, 6:11 p.m.

His client lifted his eyes from the folder he was reading and noted, “This didn’t take you long.”

Layne sat across the client’s desk from him. “He wasn’t real smart with hiding it,” Layne replied, “and he didn’t try.”

The man’s face closed down. He was embarrassed, or more accurately, humiliated. And he should be. He had an employee who had been embezzling for over three years and he didn’t cotton on until about a month before he hired Layne which was only a few weeks ago.

Layne moved him past it.

“He’s also got a ticket to Argentina. He leaves Sunday. So, my advice, pick up your phone and call the cops.”

The man nodded, reaching for the phone.

Layne stood and moved from his office but stopped and turned when the man called his name.

“You ever need a reference, you can tell your potential clients to call me,” the man stated.

“Obliged,” Layne muttered and moved out of the office.

He was out of the building and nearing the Suburban when his cell rang. He pulled it out, looked at the display, flipped it open and put it to his ear.

“Yo, sweetcheeks.”

“You like oak?”

Layne bleeped the locks on the Suburban. “Come again?”

“Oak. The wood. For the dining room table,” she explained. “See, I don’t like oak. I mean, it’s okay, but I prefer walnut or cherry wood. Also mahogany. But your Mom and I found this awesome dining room table. Ladderback chairs. One beautifully carved, thick, center leg, with four clawed feet coming out at the bottom. It’s amazing. Two leaves so it could sit ten. You could even squeeze twelve in, at a push. The perfect Thanksgiving Dinner table.”

By the time she was done talking, Layne had swung up in the cab and closed his door. “You like it, get it.”

“Well, does it sound like something you’d like? I mean, oak… I’m not sure.”

“You like it, get it,” Layne repeated.

“Layne –”

“Roc, I really don’t care about furniture. If it’s there, I use it. I don’t care what it looks like or what it’s made of. So if you like it, get it.”

She was silent.

When this lasted awhile, Layne called, “Roc?”

“You care,” she said softly.

“What?”

“You care, Layne, and that’s okay. You can be a badass and also have style. I mean, you dress really nice too.”

Layne blinked at the steering wheel and repeated, “What?”

She laughed softly. “Sweetheart, it’s okay if you give a shit about this stuff. It’s not like it makes you any less of a man.”

What the fuck?

“Uh… Rocky, what the fuck are you talkin’ about?”

“Your clothes, your furniture, Layne, they’re stylish, handsome. Your clothes make you look good, especially when you dress up. Definitely hot.” He knew she said this through a smile but he was too busy concentrating on his neck muscles contracting to let that penetrate. “And your furniture is fantastic. I wouldn’t have guessed you’d be able to put a house together like that, Layne, but it looks great. I mean, it’s comfortable and manly but it’s still attractive. I love it and I wouldn’t change a thing.”

Shit.

“Roc –”

“So, baby, since you know what you’re doing, in a badass interior decorator kind of way, tell me, do you like oak?”

“Roc –”

“Or do you want to come and look? Maybe we can swing in on Saturday.”

Shopping.

Shit.

He pulled in a breath then he let it out and made a decision. And he made his decision because shit happened and if he didn’t tell her, she’d eventually find out somehow. That shit had a way of making it to the light. Usually through Tripp.

“I didn’t buy that furniture, baby,” he said softly.

“Sorry?”

“Or most of my clothes.”

Silence then, “Sorry?”

“Melody did.”

He waited. She didn’t speak.

Fucking shit.

“Rocky –”

“Um… I’ve gotta go.”

“Roc –” he stopped speaking because he had dead air.

“Shit!” he hissed, tossed the phone on the passenger seat, started the truck and headed to her house.

He was standing out on her balcony an hour and a half later having a smoke when he watched her car drive up and swing into the spot beside his truck. She got out and moved from under the awning over her spaces, her eyes lifting to him. Then she dropped her head and walked to the sidewalk.

Layne moved to the little, black wrought iron table she’d had delivered from the Garden Center and he stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray she left out for him.

He was inside when she came through the door.

“Rocky –” he started.

She didn’t look at him when she shrugged off her coat and stated, “I need some alone time.”

He crossed his arms on his chest and said softly, “Baby, you know that shit’s not right.”

She tossed her coat on a stool by the bar and turned to him. “I do?”

“We’ve had this discussion,” he reminded her.

“Yes, you had women in your life, we’ve had this discussion,” she agreed. “What you failed to mention during that discussion was that I was sleeping in her bed.”

Fuck, he was getting pissed.

He controlled it and replied, “She picked it, I paid for it, I sleep in it, it’s my bed, Roc.”

“Did she sleep in it?” Rocky shot back.

“Don’t do that shit,” Layne returned.

“She slept in it,” Rocky muttered, dropping her head and moving into the kitchen.

He followed her but kept his distance, stopping on the other side of the bar.

“Like I said awhile ago, sweetcheeks, I wasn’t in suspended animation when we were apart.”

She was at the fridge and she’d pulled out a fancy-ass beer. She opened a drawer, popped the cap, tossed it and the opener on the counter and turned to face him, resting her waist on the edge of the counter, lifting the beer and taking a pull.

She dropped her hand, her eyes hit his and she said, “You know, I’ve been thinking.”

What he knew was that was not good.

“Rocky, don’t do this,” he warned.

“And what I’ve been thinking is that, awhile ago, you were right. I played you.”

Layne was silent.

Rocky was not.

“You were right as well that I didn’t know it but, thinking about it, I did. I played you.”

“Where you goin’ with this?” Layne asked even though he really did not want to know.

“So, I asked you the other night, if I made that pass, would you have accepted it and you said you didn’t know. Which means no.”

“You don’t know what it means. I don’t even fuckin’ know what it means,” Layne returned.

“It means no.”

“Rocky, god damn it.”

“Because she was in your life.”

Layne shook his head, barely controlling his temper and feeling his patience ebb. “I explained that too,” he reminded her.

“How long was she in your life?”

“Point is, she isn’t now.”

“She thought she was, surprising you like she did.”

“Honestly, you wanna process this?”

“I’m putting two and two together, Layne,” she announced.

“And, sweetcheeks, you’re comin’ up with five.”

“I’m not.”

“Baby, you are.”

“You wouldn’t have done it,” she stated in a way that he knew whatever the fuck she was referring to was important.

“Done what?”

“Made the play.”

“Made what play?”

“For me.”

Fuck!

“Roc –”

“You had your Melodys, your Cassies, you didn’t need me and you wouldn’t have made that play. Thinking about it, thinking about the way you spoke to me that first morning I came to your house, you had no intention of finding us again.”

Layne clenched his teeth and when he won the battle for control, he reminded her, “Rocky, you were married and you still are.”

Her eyes narrowed and she returned, “You knew it was over when we were sitting on Merry’s couch and you knew it had been over a long time. You knew it was bad. And you still walked away from me.”

“Now I’m standin’ right here so what the fuck does it matter?”

“It had to be me that made the play.”

That was when he lost it.

“Yeah, Rocky, it had to be you because, sweetcheeks, you left me. I wasn’t gonna swing myself out there again, not unless I knew I’d find a different ending this time.”

“There it is,” she announced. “You’re throwing it in my face again.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered and his eyes locked on hers. “You’re workin’ for it. You want this. I’m givin’ it to you but, warning, Rocky, you told me last Friday not to let you do this shit and I’m not gonna let you do this shit. There is nothin’ here for you to be pissed about. You’re just pissed to be pissed because you’re scared as shit.”

“I’m not scared,” she stated.

“Baby, you’ve spent two decades controlling everything in your life so you wouldn’t feel what you feel right now with me. And I’m not stupid, I know why.”

“Yeah? You do? Enlighten me, oh wise Layne, why?” she asked with deep sarcasm and Layne’s body got tight.

“Raquel, fair warning, I’m already pissed, don’t make me mad.”

“You’re pissed?” she asked, leaning forward, her words a hiss. “You’re pissed? You fucked me in her bed. You fucked me in your closet wearing her clothes. And you’re pissed?”

“I do not give a shit about furniture and clothes. You want, build a bonfire in my yard, toss it all on and replace it. I do not care. It means nothing to me.”

“Melody meant something to you.”

“Yeah, she did, and clue the fuck in, Roc, it wasn’t enough or I wouldn’t be here right now.”

“You should have told me,” she snapped.

“Yeah? When? When I had you against the wall moaning for me, do I whisper in your ear, ‘By the way, baby, Melody bought me this suit.’ Or, when you’re locked in your head because of Ma’s games and I had to talk you out of that shit, ‘And since we’re discussing Melody, you should know, she picked out this bed.’ Jesus, Roc, seriously?”

It was then, Rocky went in for the kill.

“I’ve never had an orgasm, except with you and, obviously, self-induced. I’ve had two lovers. My husband and you. I’ve kissed two men in my life. I’m thirty-eight years old, Layne, and I’ve kissed two men in my life. One I married, the other was you.”

He had no idea where she was going with that but it didn’t mean she hadn’t scored a direct hit.

“Baby –” he whispered.

“I’ve loved one man, and that was also you.”

“Rocky –”

“You’re beautiful and I see how women look at you. I also know what I did to you. You don’t think I wonder, especially when you bring it up all the time, when you’ll remember what I did to you and when you’ll wonder if it isn’t worth the risk. You decide it isn’t, I’ll be right back there, Layne, without you, and now without Tripp and Jas. And you’ll move on, you did before, you can have anyone you want. You’ll move on. But I won’t. I never did even though I got married, and you know it. But you did. Maybe not the same way, but you did. And you didn’t make the play for me. You would have carried on and you wouldn’t have to do it alone. You think you took a grave risk taking me back, what do you think I’m feeling, knowing, any time, your head can turn to someone who’ll know she’s lucky to have you, who wouldn’t do anything to rock that boat and you’ll decide I’m not worth the worry and you’ll be gone.”

Layne stared at her, completely stunned that any of that shit was in her head.

Then he said quietly, “Baby, that’s totally fucked up.”

“It isn’t,” she declared.

“It is.”

“No, Layne, it isn’t.”

“Come here,” he ordered.

“No,” she denied.

“Sweetcheeks, come here.”

“I said no.”

“Don’t make me come there,” he warned.

She shook her head. “Go home, Layne, I need to think.”

“Nope,” he replied. “No you don’t. ‘Cause you just told me what you’ve been thinking and every last bit of it is seriously jacked.”

“I’m being honest!” she cried.

“Yeah, I get that, but that doesn’t mean what’s in your head isn’t jacked.”

“I’m telling you what I think.”

“And I’m tellin’ you it’s jacked.”

“Layne –”

Layne had had enough.

“Christ, Rocky, I’m in love with you!” he shouted, leaning forward and putting his hands on the bar. “I’ve kissed more than two women and I’ve fucked more too, but I’ve only ever loved you. You cut me up, baby, when you left me. You cut me up bad.” She winced but he kept talking. “So, what’s it say to you I’d take this risk? What’s it tell you? You nearly destroyed me, Rocky, I loved you that much. Shit, I love you that much. I existed for eighteen years. Now I’m livin’ again. And I like it. I like it so much, it’s worth the risk. You are worth the risk. Yeah, you had to play me because I needed that statement from you, but, baby, I didn’t make you work too hard and you fuckin’ know it. You did that to me and you’re back in my life. Think about that, Roc, give that a second. What’s that say about how I feel about you? Does that say I’m ever gonna let anything turn my head?”

“Layne –”

“Shut it, sweetcheeks, you walked in here full of attitude and you just spewed some seriously stupid shit. You need your head straightened out and you’re gonna keep your mouth shut while I see to it.”

Her eyes were big when she whispered, “Okay.”

Layne went on. “Melody was in my house for maybe ten minutes at the most after you left. She called it, she knew it before I knew it. She knew who you were because she snooped and found the pictures I kept of you.” Rocky’s lips parted and Layne nodded. “Yeah, baby, I never let go of you. Never. I carried you with me everywhere.”

“Layne –”

“You were so freaked out, you didn’t see it but after my preliminary shock and, somethin’ else you didn’t catch, anger at seein’ a near naked woman in the house I share with my sons, she ceased to exist. It was all about you and your reaction. Melody caught it, you didn’t. So now, cast your mind back, baby, and see it through her eyes. That’s why she left because she knew why she never got in there and she knew it was because of you.”

“Layne –”

“And she told me to be happy before she left. She told me she hoped you’d make me happy again. That’s the woman who picked the bed you sleep in. She wasn’t the one because you are but she’s a good woman and she cared about me. I didn’t have you, you don’t love me enough to want me to have at least that?”

“You can stop talking now,” Rocky whispered.

“If I can, then get your ass over here and show me your head is straight and that you’ve let go of this shit so I can fuckin’ do it,” Layne returned.

She put her beer on the counter immediately but she walked to him slowly, she wasn’t working her strut, it was hesitant. She knew she’d pissed him off and she wasn’t sure what she was going to get.

The minute she was in reach, he leaned forward, caught her wrist and yanked her into his body after which his arms wrapped tight around her, caging her to him.

Her hands at his chest, she tipped her head back. “Um…” she started.

He interrupted her. “Don’t be cute, cute’s gonna piss me off.”

“Oh, okay, I won’t be… um… cute,” she whispered uncertainly.

“Roc, you’re bein’ cute,” he warned.

“Oh, well… okay, I’ll stop.” She was still whispering then she pressed her lips together, stared at him with big eyes and her look was incredibly cute.

“Fuck me,” Layne muttered.

“You’re still mad.”

“Baby… uh, yeah.”

Her hand slid up to his neck.

“Don’t be mad, I have my head on straight.”

“You gonna treat me to this shit again?”

“I’ll try not to.”

“That the best you got?”

“Uh…” her teeth worried her lip then she went on, “yes.”

“I’ll take it.”

Rocky blinked. Then she whispered, “You will?”

“Pay attention, sweetcheeks, I’ll take anything from you.”

“Layne –”

Time again to move the fuck on.

“Did you buy the table?”

Her body jerked at his change of subject then she answered, “No.”

“I’m not goin’ to look at it.”

“Okay.”

“You like it, get it.”

“Okay.”

“You let my mother buy a chaise lounge for that front space, you earn a spanking.”

Her body jerked again before it relaxed against him.

“Don’t worry,” she said softly, “I found this big corner sectional. It’s like a couch but it’s shaped in a square. You, me, Jasper and Tripp could all lounge on it and not touch. Not that we would do that, uh… but, uh… Vera and I tried it out. It’s comfy.”

“Get it.”

“Okay,” she whispered then called, “Layne?”

“Yeah?”

She pressed into him and kept whispering. “I’m sorry.”

His temper slid away, Layne dipped his head and touched his mouth to hers, moving only slightly away, he whispered back, “I know you are.”

“I mean about tonight and…” her eyes slid from his to over his shoulder and then he watched her force them back to him and her voice was barely audible when she said, “back then.”

Oh God. Jesus God. That felt good. Jesus, he needed that. He didn’t know it but having it, he knew he needed it.

“I know.” His voice was barely audible too.

“I’ve always loved you.”

“I know.”

“And um… even though I was the one who did it to myself, um… you can ask Merry, I’ve never liked to share.”

Layne stared at his woman a beat that fed into ten.

Then he burst out laughing.

Friday, 11:38 p.m.

“Fuck, baby, come here,” Layne groaned.

She kept working his cock with her mouth, her hand wrapped around the base, she was on her knees between his legs and he could see they were spread wide and her other hand was working her clit. And he knew she liked it, she was taking herself close because he could feel her moans vibrating against his aching, rock hard cock.

“Rocky, come here,” he growled.

Her head kept moving, up and down, lips, tongue, suction, Jesus.

“Roc –”

Her mouth suddenly released him and he watched her head fly back, her lips parted, face flushed, she’d made herself come. Fucking beautiful.

He reached down, grasped her at her pits, yanked her up his body, rolled her, positioning between the legs she spread for him, he drove into her. Hard. Rough. No control.

“Layne,” she breathed.

“Take me,” he grunted.

“Yes, God, yes.”

“Take me, Rocky.”

“Harder, Layne.”

He fucked her harder and her heels dug into the backs of his thighs as she lifted her hips to meet this.

“It’s gonna happen again,” she moaned.

“Let it.”

“Layne, oh God.” Her back and neck arched, her heels pressed deeper, her body locked but her pussy contracted around his cock and a low, deep, long moan slid out of her throat.

Layne’s hand went into her hair, he positioned her head and captured her mouth, absorbing the moan and then trading it for his as he thrust deep, to the root, planting himself in her and exploding.

When he was done, he started his strokes again, these slow, lazy, as his mouth explored her neck and throat. Her hand moved on his back, her other one gliding through his hair, her legs wrapped now around his waist.

He filled her and his lips moved up her neck, his teeth nipping her earlobe before he demanded, “Next time you make yourself come like that, you do it with my cock inside you.”

“It was inside me,” she whispered.

“I’m talkin’ about an alternate location.”

Her head turned and he felt her lips smile against his neck.

Then she said there, “Okay.”

That was Rocky, his woman, up for anything.

“I need to get cleaned up,” she whispered in his ear.

“No, I’m still hard.”

“Layne –”

“You can get cleaned up when I’m not hard.”

A beat of hesitation, then, “Okay,” and then all four of her limbs got tight around him.

She held him close until he pulled out, rolled and she kept rolling, moving off the bed but she came back, put a knee in the bed by his hip, she leaned into him, touched her mouth to his and whispered, “Love you, baby.”

Before he could respond, she moved away, turned and walked to the bathroom naked.

When he lost sight of her, Layne moved under the covers, settling back, head to the pillows, lifting his hands to his face, he swiped it hard.

Adrian Cosgrove was being held without bail.

Rocky and Vera were thick as thieves again.

Rocky’s attorneys called that day to say that Astley had finally agreed on the settlement and they were proceeding, her divorce would be final in less than a month and, at Layne’s urging, she had, indeed, taken him to the cleaners. What was slightly disturbing was that Astley let her.

Layne did not dwell. He didn’t give a fuck about Astley’s motivations. All he cared about was that the papers would soon be signed and, the day they were, he was putting a huge, fucking rock on her finger. He’d seen the ring Astley had given her. It wasn’t ostentatious but it made a statement.

Layne’s was going to be bigger.

Stew had moved on, had been living with his piece in the trailer park but word was he was moving, with her, into an apartment in the ‘burg. He didn’t mind Gabby knowing it either, since he paraded the skank in front of Gabby at the game that night five times (Layne hadn’t paid attention, but Rocky had counted and shared this information). Gabby hadn’t liked this and made the unfortunate play of letting that show. She didn’t see the skank was a skank and Gabby was a better catch. But that was Gabby, always making the wrong decisions.

Layne and Rocky had dinner with Ryker and Lissa. In a social situation, Ryker was no less Ryker but Layne’s woman was enough of a nut to find him charming (this was Rocky’s word). She and Lissa had instantly formed a bond over some woman in the ‘burg who gave manicures that were so good, both declared the manicurist an “artist”. Before they left Frank’s, the women had planned to have back-to-back manicures the next Saturday followed by lunch at The Station.

The Bulldogs had won again and Jasper and Layne had talked for half an hour on the phone before the game about which visits to universities he was going to accept. He only had so many and they were stacking up. Purdue had been added, as had IU and Michigan. Jasper was leaning toward Ball State. It was his Dad’s alma mater and it was a good school. It just wasn’t Purdue.

Layne had allowed Ball State to be scratched on the list but the first visit was going to be to West Lafayette, Indiana. Jasper had agreed.

It was almost done, they were almost there. They just had to take down Rutledge and Towers and then life could be life.

His eyes turned to the bathroom when he caught movement there and his breath locked in his throat when he saw Rocky in a faded, red t-shirt with a peeling Ball State decal. It was the first one she’d confiscated from him twenty-one years ago. He remembered it because it was his favorite shirt and he’d known with an even deeper knowledge than he already had that he loved her when he gave it up without a fight.

She strutted to her side of the bed, pulled back the covers and slid in, her movements liquid, she shifted to him, reached across him and turned out the light.

Then she pinned him to the bed.

“Baby,” he muttered, his voice thick.

“Yeah?”

“The tee.”

She pressed closer.

“You weren’t the only one who didn’t let go,” she whispered.

Layne’s arm tightened around her, his hand giving her hip a rough squeeze, his other hand lifted and slid into her hair.

“Though, I should note, Jarrod wasn’t a big fan of me wearing this to bed.”

Layne’s body went still.

“Which I did,” she went on.

Layne stayed still and silent.

“A lot,” she finished.

Layne didn’t move nor speak.

Neither did Rocky.

Until she whispered, “I know it was a bitchy thing to do, Layne, but, I mean, he was a jerk and he kept throwing you in my face so, I figured, since he didn’t get over it and I never got over you, at least I should be honest.”

Layne kept his silence.

“He deserved it,” she muttered.

Layne’s body finally moved but it was against his volition. It did this to shake with laughter.

Her head came up. “He did, Layne, seriously. He –”

“Baby,” he forced out, his voice sounding choked.

“You think I’m a bitch,” she wrongly surmised.

“Baby,” he repeated but was unable to say more.

“Trust me, Layne, I’m not a bitch. He could get mean about you.”

He rolled into her, his hand in her hair moving over her mouth. “Baby, shut up.”

“Okay,” she said under his hand.

Layne moved his hand, dropped his head and shoved his face in her neck where he kept laughing softly.

“Are you laughing?” she whispered, finally feeling the way his body was moving, not to mention hearing his laughter.

“Shit yeah,” he replied.

“Oh.”

“You wore my tee to his bed,” Layne stated.

“I missed you,” she whispered.

Layne went still again. Then his head tipped back and he roared with laughter.

“Layne!”

“You wore my tee to his bed,” Layne choked.

“Okay, now I’m thinking it was bitchy.”

“You wore my tee to his bed,” Layne repeated, still choking on his hilarity.

“Stop laughing!”

“Wrapped yourself up in me and slipped into his bed,” Layne went on, his body shaking so hard the bed was moving with it.

He loved this, he loved knowing it, he loved that she did it, he loved everything about it and he didn’t fucking care what that said about him or about her. He just loved it.

“Layne!” she cried. “Stop laughing!”

“Dad!” They both heard Jasper shout and they both went still. “We’re home!”

“Right, Bud,” Layne shouted back. “Have a good night?”

“Yeah!” Jasper was still shouting.

“Hey Dad!” Tripp yelled.

“Hey Pal,” Layne yelled back.

“Hey Rocky!” Tripp kept yelling.

“Hey Tripp!” Rocky was now yelling.

“We’re hittin’ the sack!” Jasper shouted.

“Gotcha,” Layne shouted back.

“See you in the morning!” Tripp yelled.

“Right Pal, goodnight,” Layne yelled back.

“’Night, Dad, ‘night Rocky,” Tripp kept yelling.

“’Night Tripp,” Rocky yelled back and Layne’s body started shaking again.

“’Night Roc!” Jasper shouted. “Later, Dad.”

“’Night Jas!” Rocky shouted and Layne’s laughter became audible.

Still he managed to shout, “Later, Bud.”

He felt Rocky’s eyes on him in the dark and then she said in a horrified whisper, “Jeez, we’re the freaking Waltons.”

At that, Layne roared with laughter yet again.

Saturday, 2:32 a.m.

Tanner Layne slept with Raquel Merrick pinning him to the bed.

He was having good dreams.

Rocky’s eyes opened and she saw only dark.

Dark.

She felt it press into her, like it was physical, a weight, a heavy weight against her skin.

Her breath started to get heavy.

She saw only dark but she felt only Layne.

She let the heat from his body seep into her, feeling his strength under her arm, her cheek, her leg, down her torso.

She pulled in a deep, steady breath and stared into the dark, sucking in Layne’s heat, his strength.

She used him to beat it back, closed her eyes and slept, pinning her man to the bed.