Golden Trail

Chapter Four Robin Hood

“Layne,” she begged.

Layne sucked her nipple sharply into his mouth.

“Layne,” she repeated on a moan.

He lifted his head and looked toward hers. It was pressed back into the pillows, her neck arched.

“You promised,” he murmured.

Her head came up and her eyes came to him, unfocused. Christ, she was turned on. It was written all over her face.

He felt his rock hard cock start aching.

Then he put his mouth to her, trailing his lips down her belly. He stopped and kissed her right above the dark triangle of hair between her legs.

She lifted her knees and dropped them to the sides, offering herself to him.

Fuck, but he loved her.

He settled between her legs and slid his finger lightly through her wetness.

Her hips bucked then her body moved with agitation.

“Layne,” she said again.

He looked up at her and she was staring at him, need stark on her face. Her hands were clenching the slats in the headboard, what she’d promised. Layne got to touch, to taste, to lick, to suck and she held onto the headboard – no matter what.

“You promised, baby,” he reminded her again, using his finger to retrace its path.

A low sound came from her throat and her head fell back.

Layne grinned.

Then he looked down at her, opened her with his fingers and used his tongue to do the same thing he’d done with his finger.

Her hips surged up, his mouth closed over her, he pulled deep and then growled with satisfaction against her when he heard and felt her come.

Layne’s eyes opened.

He was on his stomach and his cock was hard. Again. And aching. Again.

He rolled to his back, muttering, “Christ.”

He stared at the ceiling. It felt like he’d been asleep for two minutes which was about as long as he actually had been asleep since he’d spent most of his night thinking about Rocky, some of it arguing with her and the rest of it pissed at her.

Even so, he still had a dream. All of them were different, some hotter than others, but only by shades and degrees.

This one, however, was the best so far.

He put the dream out of his head when he heard the boys’ shower going. He turned and looked at the clock. Six twenty-seven and they were up on their own, or at least one of them was. A miracle.

He gave himself a minute to get his body under control then he got up, went to the bathroom, did his thing, went to his dresser, grabbed a tee, tugged it on and left his room. He checked Tripp’s room first. Light on, bed unmade, clothes and shit everywhere, Tripp not there. The shower was still on so he walked down the hall to Jasper’s room and found it the same as Tripp’s. Light on, room a mess, Jasper not there.

He walked down the stairs and halfway down saw Blondie outside, panting against the glass, body swinging side to side, tail whipping around. He walked directly to the sliding glass door but turned to see Tripp was emptying the dishwasher. Another miracle.

“Hey Pal,” Layne greeted.

Tripp looked at him and smiled. “Hey Dad.”

“Is that Tripp?” Layne asked, sliding open the door, Blondie shot in and began instantly to dance around him. Once the dog was clear of the door, he threw the door to.

“What?” Tripp asked back as Layne walked to the coffeepot.

“You Tripp?” Layne repeated.

“Well…” Tripp stared at him, a funny look on his face, “yeah.”

Layne pulled the filter out of the coffeemaker. “You sure? See, the real Tripp doesn’t unload the dishwasher unless I’ve asked him ten times. I remember askin’ you to do it last night but that was only once. I got nine more to go.”

Tripp’s comically confused face split into a smile and he muttered, “Shut up, Dad,” before he turned back to the dishwasher.

“You feed Blondie?” Layne asked but he knew Tripp hadn’t because Blondie was dancing between both him and his son, unsure which one of them was going to end her enforced fast, and if she’d been fed she’d pick one or the other to bug.

“Not yet. Just got downstairs. She’s only been out a few minutes.” Tripp answered.

“I’ll get her after I make coffee. You get breakfast after you finish with that.”

“Okay,” Tripp agreed and shoved some plates into a cupboard.

Layne made the coffee and started to feed Blondie but stopped when he was about to plop the food in the dirty bowl. He stared at the bowl a second then cleaned it before he fed his son’s dog. By the time he set down the bowl, Blondie was beside herself and Layne added a trip to the Garden Center to his day’s agenda to buy her more bowls so they could put them in the dishwasher and she didn’t have her breakfast delayed.

Layne had a cup of coffee in his hand, his hips against the counter by the sink and Tripp was sitting at the island spooning up cereal when Jasper showed. He let his oldest son get his cereal and sit by his brother before he moved to stand in front of them at the island.

“Spoke to your Mom yesterday. She wants you guys to stay with me next week.”

Tripp had been looking at him while he talked and when he finished, his head dropped down to look at the milk in his bowl. Jasper had been looking at him too but his head didn’t drop down. Layne watched anger flash through his features before he looked away and Layne saw a muscle tick in his cheek.

This was another reason why he knew they were his boys. They’d pegged Stew before Layne even moved home. They didn’t like him and they didn’t like spending time with him. But more, they didn’t like him with their Mom.

Gabby might be a bitch to Layne but she loved her kids and they loved her. For this reason, Layne knew they were torn. When they spent time with her and Stew, when he got them back, they were both tense to the point of wired and it took a couple of days for them to settle in. Even not liking Layne, Jasper obviously liked him more than Stew because he relaxed when he was at Layne’s house. Then they’d go back and it’d happen all over again.

This caused Layne concern but neither of them had shared and he felt it important to let them deal with it how they saw fit. They needed him, they needed to man up and ask. Until then, it was up to them to cope.

They were torn because he knew they preferred to be at Layne’s house because Stew wasn’t there. But they didn’t want to be away from their Mom because Stew was there. If Stew wasn’t there, he wondered how they’d be. Tripp probably would take it in stride. Jasper would probably be more of an asshole.

“That cool with you guys?” Layne asked and they both looked at him.

“Yeah,” Tripp answered.

“Whatever,” Jasper muttered.

That was the best he was going to get from Jas and he’d take it.

Then Jasper decided to take his anger out on Layne and Layne knew this because Jasper stated, “Mrs. Astley is thirty-eight years old.”

This was a bizarre statement leading into unknown territory but considering he was referring to Raquel at all, Layne braced.

“Yeah,” Layne confirmed. “How’d you know that?”

“Kids know everything about Mrs. Astley,” Jasper answered.

Layne bet they did.

“You were twenty-five when Mom had me,” Jasper went on.

Layne studied his son and prompted, “Your point, Jas?”

“You said you lived with her before Mom,” Jasper replied.

Layne kept his eyes locked to his boy.

Layne had made the decision when he moved home that he would treat his sons, mostly, like men. Neither of them were kids anymore, not really, and both of them were smart. They had to learn how to be men from somewhere and Stew sure as fuck wouldn’t teach them how to be good ones, so Layne was going to do it. Therefore, he was straight with them, at all times, at all costs. They had to learn how to deal with whatever life threw at them and no one could tell you how to do that. You had to learn by experience.

Neither of them had asked about him getting shot, not yet. He was going to let them sort what they had to sort in their heads and then he was going to share more about who he was and what he did. That time was getting ripe, he knew it.

Therefore, Layne nodded to Jasper. “I did.”

Jasper got that look in his eye, the one he got when he was going to be more of an asshole teenaged kid than usual and Layne braced again.

“You like jailbait?”

“Jas,” Tripp muttered. He wasn’t a big fan of his brother’s asshole teenaged kid act either.

Jasper turned to his brother and defended himself. “She’s four years younger than Dad. They lived together before Mom, she was, like, a teenager, dude.”

Layne held onto his patience and studied his sons.

Then he made a decision.

“Don’t move, I’ll be back,” Layne ordered and walked out of the kitchen, up the stairs and to his desk. He pulled out a drawer, rifled through it and found the big manila envelope. He opened it, his fingers sifting through the pictures, he found the one he was looking for, pulled it out and walked back to his sons.

He resumed his place opposite them at the island and tossed the picture down in front of them. It skidded and Tripp’s hand shot out to stop it. He brushed it with his finger, twirling it so it was right side up to him and Jasper.

In it was a picture of Rocky. She was wearing jeans shorts, a tight pink t-shirt, her hair was down and around her shoulders and she was sitting on a high, cement wall next to a statue of a lion. They were at Purdue, her and Dave and Layne. She was seventeen and scouting universities, she’d later be accepted at Purdue as well as five other schools. She wanted to go to Purdue but she got hooked up with Layne and made the decision to stay closer to home so she’d picked Butler. Layne felt no guilt about this. Butler wasn’t sloppy seconds by a long shot.

Layne had always loved that picture. She’d been smiling, it was a little smile but the dimple in her right cheek had popped out. At seventeen, she’d made it to far beyond pretty, her sitting there, in her tight pink t-shirt, that smile on her face, young, the promise of a good life ahead of her, it was captivating both in person and in the photo. That smile, that t-shirt, her long legs exposed by her jeans shorts, ankles crossed, the promise on her face, it all defined why he’d fallen in love with her. He’d known her three weeks and in that instant, when he snapped that photo, he remembered looking through the lens and he’d lost his heart or, more to the point, gave it to her.

“That was taken about three weeks after we started going out. She was seventeen,” Layne told his boys.

“Wow. She’s pretty,” Tripp mumbled and his head came up to look at his Dad. “But she’s prettier now.”

He wasn’t wrong.

“Seventeen?” Jasper asked, his tone biting. “That’s sick, you were twenty-one.”

Jasper wasn’t wrong either. Twenty and twenty-four was okay, nineteen and twenty-three was still good, anything below that, the guy in his twenties, the girl in her teens, was frowned upon in that ‘burg.

But he didn’t give a fuck then and, thinking about it for the first time in over a decade, he didn’t give a fuck now.

“Look at her Jas,” Layne urged quietly and Jasper held his eyes, Jasper’s belligerent, then he looked down at the photo.

“It’s safe to say, her brother and Dad weren’t all fired up that she caught my eye,” Layne continued. “She was in high school, I’d graduated Ball State and was at the Academy. The first six months I was with her, every date we had happened at her Dad’s house. He wouldn’t even let me put her in my car. He got to know me and that changed. We moved in together a month after she graduated from high school and we lived together for two years.”

He knew Jasper would do the math, he already did. Layne’s son was far from dumb.

Layne carried on. “She went to Butler. She’d drive into Indy every day to go to class, worked at Frank’s as a waitress on the weekends. I worked for the ‘burg’s PD.”

Jasper looked from the photo to him and Layne went on.

“You see her?”

“Yeah, I see her,” Jasper replied.

“Three weeks before that photo was taken, I saw her, took one look at her and I knew. She was it. I didn’t care if she was seventeen. She was it. You want something bad enough, you know it’s right, you know it’ll be worth the wait. So I waited and I was right, Rocky was worth it. Until you two came along, she was the best thing that happened to me in my whole goddamned life.”

Tripp was staring at him, his mouth had dropped open. Jasper was shielding his response.

“Look at that picture, Jasper, and tell me that girl wasn’t worth the wait,” Layne said quietly.

Jasper licked his lips and then sucked them between his teeth.

Layne waited.

Then Jasper showed him that he had broken through.

“I know it because she’s the coolest teacher in school,” Jasper informed him.

“Yeah?” Layne asked, curious, even though he told himself he did not want to know.

“Yeah,” Tripp put in. “She’s like, that Dead Poets Society dude except a lady. She even shows that movie in her class. Kids are always hearing that she’s gettin’ into trouble with the principal because of something she’s done. Half the time, they aren’t even in the classroom but doin’ all sorts of shit all over the school. You get in her class, you got so many field trips, it’s awesome. I hope I get her. She even lets kids read comic strips for credit.”

Yes, another indication that Rocky was a nut.

“You have her yet?” Layne asked Jasper.

“Had her when I was a sophomore and she was awesome so I’m takin’ Advanced English Lit next semester. I hope I get her because Mr. Halsey is a moron,” Jasper replied.

Layne hoped he got Rocky too. Jesus, Halsey had been there when Layne had been at that school. He must be a hundred years old.

Jasper cut into his thoughts. “If she was the best thing that happened to you, how’d it go bad?”

Layne answered without hesitation. “She left me. She didn’t say why. One day it was good, really good, the next day she was gone. Everything that was hers was out and she was gone. She didn’t talk to me, she didn’t explain it. We weren’t fighting. It wasn’t turning bad, and you know when that happens even though sometimes you don’t admit it when it’s happening. But it wasn’t. It was good one day and she was gone the next. I reckon she had her reasons but the right thing to do was share them. She never did that. To this day, I have no clue why it ended; all I know is that it did. Whatever happened I might not have been able to fix but after what we had, she should have showed me the respect of tellin’ me where it went wrong.”

“Did you ask?” Jasper asked.

“Yep, about a hundred times, on the phone, when she didn’t hang up on me. Showin’ up at her Dad’s house, at her school, at Frank’s. She shut me out. Eventually, I had to man up and move on. So I did.”

“To Mom,” Tripp guessed.

“To your Mom,” Layne confirmed.

“But Mom wasn’t the best thing to happen to you,” Jasper noted, his eyes locked on Layne and Layne gave it to him straight.

“No, Jas, she wasn’t. She’s a great Mom and a good woman but she was not a good wife.”

Jasper surprised the hell out of him when he nodded.

Then, always sharp, Jasper noted, “Word is, Mrs. Astley is gettin’ a divorce.”

“Word is correct,” Layne affirmed.

“She want you back?” Jasper asked, clearly having spent some time considering why Rocky was there yesterday morning.

“No,” Layne answered.

“So why was she here?” Tripp put in, also clearly having thought about Rocky’s visit.

When Layne answered, he did it honestly but he didn’t do it fully.

“Her brother is a good friend, so’s her Dad. She and I are connected. We’ve been tryin’ to avoid each other but me gettin’ shot made that less easy for her to do. We’re workin’ shit out.”

“You gonna go for it?” Jasper asked.

“Can’t tell the future, Jas, if I could, we’d be livin’ in Rio and you’d each have your own jet,” Layne answered, hoping to inject humor into the discussion which, already not the most comfortable, was getting even less so and Tripp laughed.

Jasper’s lips twitched and he shook his head.

“You should go for it,” Tripp suggested and Layne’s surprised eyes cut to his younger son.

“Tripp, don’t, Pal. Okay? Whatever happens, happens but Rocky and me, we may sort it out so she’ll be over at her Dad’s when Dave has a barbeque but she won’t be ironing your boxers.”

Tripp kept his eyes on his old man then he nodded and whispered, “Right,” but, fuck him, Layne still saw hope there.

Deciding their conversation was done, Layne indicated their bowls with a dip of his head. “Get those in the dishwasher, get your books, get to school.”

Tripp moved instantly. Jasper stayed where he was and studied Layne for awhile before he followed his brother.

Layne timed his next for when Tripp was in the garage heading to Jasper’s Charger and Jasper was almost at the utility room door.

“Jas, a second,” Layne called, Jasper stopped, looked at him and Layne got closer. “You’re stayin’ with me next week but when you talk to your Mom and when you go home, I want you to keep your eyes and ears open.”

Jasper’s body went tight as did his face. “Why?”

“Don’t know, not yet, but I need you to be my ears with your Mom.”

Jasper’s eyes narrowed, not in anger at Layne, but in understanding. “Stew?”

Layne nodded and gave his son the truth. “He’s an asshole. I don’t like him with your Mom. She’s got her sister in town, friends and she’s also got you, your brother and me. Of all of those, all she’s really got to look out for her is you, your brother and me. We gotta look out for her. I’m gettin’ a bad vibe and I want you to keep sharp. You hear anything or even feel anything, you tell me. Yeah?”

Jasper stayed silent and stared at Layne for a long time. Then something lit in his eyes, something Layne hadn’t seen since Jasper was a little kid. Something Layne missed like he’d been breathing half the amount of oxygen any other human needed and the other half just came whooshing into his lungs.

Then he muttered, “Yeah, okay Dad.”

Layne wanted to touch him, Christ, his hand itched to curl around Jasper’s neck but he checked it.

“Do me a favor and keep this conversation from Tripp. Right now, you and me are workin’ this. We need Tripp, I’ll let you know.”

Jasper nodded.

Layne jerked his head to the door. “Go to school.”

“Can’t do it, Drew, wish I could but I gotta focus on shit that pays,” Layne told Drew Mangold.

He was at the Station because he wanted to talk to Colt, Sully and Mike about Stew.

He’d been to the Station a couple of times since he’d been released from the hospital but Rutledge had not been there any of those times.

Rutledge was there now. Layne had locked eyes with him as he’d walked up the stairs ten minutes ago. He’d buried the burn seeing that asshole ignited inside him. Then he’d tipped up his chin, lifted a hand and gave him a flick of two fingers. Rutledge had visibly tensed when he’d seen Layne but his face went slack when Layne greeted him like he always did if he was at the Station when Layne walked up the stairs.

Layne knew a lot of the men in that Department, most of them he knew well, some of them had worn a uniform at the same time Layne had.

Rutledge was not one of those men. He hadn’t been around for very long and most of what Layne knew about him was that he was dirty so he didn’t want to know much more. Unfortunately, since he was dirty, Layne had to investigate him so Layne knew Rutledge a lot more than he wanted to and none of what he knew was any good.

Layne couldn’t begin to guess what was going on in Rutledge’s mind after Layne behaved like normal. He could think it was indication that Layne had learned his lesson and backed down. He could wonder if he’d been wrong about what he suspected Layne was doing before he told whoever was pulling his strings to order the hit thus wondering if he acted rashly. He could be considering both or something else. Layne hoped he was considering both. They needed him off-balance and guessing not only the extent of their knowledge and who held it but also what they’d do next.

Colt, Sully and Mike weren’t there and Drew had corralled him to tell him about some weird shit that was happening at the Christian Church. Drew wasn’t wrong, it didn’t sound good, but Layne couldn’t look into it.

About two days after Layne came home and set up shop over Mimi’s, Merry punted him a case. Something the cops couldn’t stick their noses into and something that the interested party couldn’t pay a private detective for, especially not at Layne’s rates. It wasn’t a big deal, doing some searches, printing out credit history, it took him ten minutes. But he’d done it, he’d done it gratis and he shouldn’t have. It was the beginning of what Merry called Layne’s “Robin Hood Caseload”. Merry regularly punted shit he knew needed looking into, people he knew who needed help; all of them unable to pay for it, and Layne took them on and took care of their shit. The problem was, shit like that spreads so Sully and Sean jumped on the bandwagon. Then Drew.

The only ones who didn’t do it were Harrison Rutledge, Alec Colton and Mike Haines.

Rutledge didn’t because he didn’t know Layne and because he didn’t give a shit if someone was in trouble and needed help.

Layne figured Colt and Haines knew it was happening and didn’t interfere but they also didn’t participate. What Layne didn’t know was if it was because they disagreed with him doing it or they didn’t want to take advantage of a friendship.

Gabby didn’t lie, he charged top dollar because he gave quick, efficient, confidential service on any matter you could possibly need a private investigator for. He’d travelled a lot, had an extensive and varied set of skills and people all over the country knew of him or had worked with him. He came highly recommended. Because of that, his reputation had preceded him and he had clients even before he’d located office space.

Most of his clients came from Indianapolis which meant most of his work was there. He had some clients from the ‘burg but they lived in developments like where Rocky used to live.

With a healthy bank balance and money coming in, this meant he could carry a Robin Hood Caseload. Being out of work for five weeks and his nest egg depleted, this meant he needed to focus.

This sucked, especially after what Drew told him about what he suspected was happening at the Church.

“Seriously man, this is what I think it is, and I got a bad feeling it is, then…” Drew was trying to persuade him but Drew trailed off when his eyes went over Layne’s shoulder and his face grew distracted.

Layne turned to see what caught his attention but he heard her heels on the floor before he saw her.

Rocky was walking across the room.

Strike that, Rocky was strutting across the room wearing a skirt much like yesterday’s, this one the color of cranberries, just as tight but there was a sexy slit up the front so you saw a hint of her inner thigh every other stride she took. She had on a black blouse, this one almost see-through, a black camisole under it and it fit her perfectly, too perfectly, like yesterday’s blouse. She also had on a pair of shoes the color of her skirt, the leather shiny, the heel high and thin, no strap this time and they were the absolute definition of fuck-me shoes. Her hair was twisted in a complicated knot at the nape of her neck and she had a little leather purse that matched her shoes on a short strap that tucked it under her pit.

She strutted through the room smiling, giving little waves to men she knew and also giving absolutely no indication that she knew all the men watching her, and every man in that room was watching her, was struggling to control his dick getting hard.

She rounded Merry’s desk and Layne watched, with no small amount of irritation, as she stood there looking at it for a moment as if searching for something. Then she found it, reached for a piece of paper and pen and leaned over, ass in the air, skirt stretched tight across it – and her hips and upper thighs, leaving nothing to the imagination – and she started scribbling.

Layne tore his eyes off Rocky and looked at the desk next to Merry’s, separated by a three foot aisle, where Rutledge was sitting, his eyes glued to Rocky’s ass.

Fuck!

In the second she’d bent over, she’d cast her net and, even with Merry one of the prime suspects of who’d pegged Rutledge as dirty and sicced Layne on him, Rutledge wasn’t struggling even a little bit against the net.

Layne looked back at Raquel and saw she’d turned her head toward Rutledge and then she straightened. She smiled at Rutledge and moved toward him.

The instant she did, Layne made a decision.

“We’ll finish later,” Layne told Drew on a mutter and he strode, fast and with purpose, right to Rocky.

She had her back to him and didn’t hear him coming, was intent on what she was doing or intended to ignore him having no idea what he was about to do.

He heard her saying, “…not answering his phone so it’d be a big help if you could tell him…” when he got up close. Without hesitation, he swung his arm back, hand open and then smacked her lightly, but the sound carried, right on the ass.

Her body jolted and she whirled as he said loudly, “Sweetcheeks.”

He looked down at her stunned face, wrapped an arm tight around her neck and yanked her right into his body. Again without hesitation, his head came down and his lips hit hers, hard, where he kissed her, just as hard. Then his head came up and he tried to ignore her soft body pressed to him, her tits crushed against him, the scent of her perfume and the fact that the vibe in the room had electrified.

He also tried to ignore the fact that her face showed she was openly struggling against being dazed and being really, really pissed.

“What you doin’ here, baby?” he asked before she could speak.

She blinked.

Then she asked back, “What?”

His arm around her neck tightened and she was forced to press closer. His other hand hit her waist and slid around to the small of her back, pulling her even closer.

“You didn’t tell me you were comin’ to the Station,” he informed her.

“I –” she started, belatedly struggling by pushing her neck against his arm.

Before she could say another word, he looked at Rutledge.

“Best thing that happened to me, gettin’ shot, man, I cannot tell you.” He grinned at Rutledge as Rutledge’s mouth dropped right open, Rocky’s body turned to stone and then he looked back down at Rocky who was now glaring at him, her eyes full of fire. “Reunited me with Roc,” he muttered to her then looked back at Rutledge. “Take another three bullets if I knew that was what I was gonna get.” He kept grinning. “Luckily I didn’t have to.” He again looked at Rocky and asked softly, “Did I, baby?”

“You –” she began, her eyes sparking, beyond pissed and he dipped his head again and brushed his mouth on hers.

He lifted his head and saw the fire in her eyes was muted and she had fallen silent.

He looked back at Rutledge. “Never know what life’s gonna bring. Lyin’ there, blood oozin’ out of me, thinkin’ that’s the end and, weeks later, I find out it’s actually the beginning. You get what I mean?”

Rutledge kept staring at him, seemingly frozen, then his eyes darted back and forth between Rocky and Layne and he nodded.

“Holy fuck,” Layne heard muttered and he looked beyond Rutledge to see Sully had arrived, coming up the backstairs, he was standing just beyond Rutledge’s desk and he was staring at Rocky and Layne.

“Yo, Sul,” Layne greeted and Sully’s body jerked. Then his eyes darted between Rocky and Layne.

They finally stopped before he gave himself a seizure and then he greeted back, “Layne, buddy, Rocky, um… hey.”

Rocky moved in his arms like she was trying to turn toward Sully but his arms locked tighter and she was interrupted when they heard Colt coming.

“Yeah, Feb, honey, do me a favor and…” Layne heard and his eyes moved to see Colt walking toward Sully, his attention diverted, he was on the phone with his wife, February.

Colt’s head turned, he caught sight of Rocky and Layne and stopped so abruptly he looked like he’d hit a wall.

Layne stifled a laugh.

Rocky’s body got even tighter in his arms.

“Shit, Feb, I’ll call you back,” Colt muttered into his phone and immediately flipped it shut, his eyes never leaving Rocky and Layne. “Tanner, hey, what’s up?”

“Came to talk to you and Sul but Roc showed so now I’m gonna take my woman for a coffee. I’ll come back. You gonna be around?” Layne answered.

“Your woman?” Sully whispered but Colt didn’t speak. His brows shot up and his eyes shot to Rocky.

“Yeah,” Layne answered Sully like a kid would say, “Duh”. “You gonna be around in an hour?”

“Um… sure,” Sully replied.

“Great, be back,” Layne said and then he nodded to Colt then to Rutledge then he turned Rocky toward the stairs.

She yanked her neck out of his hold on the stairs but surprisingly didn’t pull her hand from his when he captured it. She stayed stiff but silent and unresisting as they walked out of the Station and down the two blocks to Mimi’s Coffee Shop.

He knew she was pissed but he didn’t know the intensity of it until they hit Mimi’s and he started to stop them but she tugged his hand and kept walking.

Layne wanted her in Mimi’s. Mimi’s was a public place where he had the possibility of keeping her under control.

Rocky, however, had no intention whatsoever of going to Mimi’s and unless he wanted to drag her in there kicking and screaming, he had no choice but to follow.

She didn’t go far. She stopped outside the door to his office, the brass plaque next to it saying “Tanner Layne Investigations”, yanked her hand from his and lifted her other hand. Her eyes cut to him and they were scorching. Opened palmed, she slapped the door and then jerked her head at the knob.

He watched her thinking he’d forgotten this too, though, seeing her face he wondered how the fuck he did. She didn’t get pissed often but when she did, she got pissed. Sometimes, he’d be pissed too, because they were fighting. But if he wasn’t pissed, and she was, he invariably made her more pissed because she was cute as hell when she was angry and he didn’t shy away from informing her of that fact.

Like now.

“Jesus, Roc, forgot how cute you get when you’re pissed.”

Her eyes narrowed and her shoulders jerked.

“Open the door, Layne,” she bit off.

He grinned, turned to the door, pulled his keys out of his pocket and unlocked it. He opened it, swung his torso in and punched in the code to the alarm.

He was still doing this as she was on the move. He felt her push the door open wider and he felt her move in behind him. Then he heard her heels hit the steps. He moved in, the door closing behind him, and stopped at the bottom so he could watch her ass as she climbed the stairs. When she got to the top, turned, looked down at him while she crossed her arms on her chest, he figured he probably better move.

He jogged up the steps, unlocked that door, walked to the alarm panel and punched in that code too. She walked in behind him, again he could hear her heels on the wood floors. He heard her stop and slam something down on the receptionist’s desk that no receptionist sat at, probably her purse, and he turned to her.

She stood several feet inside the room, facing him, and he could feel the heat from her eyes even at a distance.

“Roc –” he started but she moved.

Coming right at him, she did it smart, not making her intention clear until the last second so he almost didn’t deflect the punch she threw. But he got his hand up, his forearm catching her wrist, he pushed it back, using the momentum of her arm and his strength, he whirled her so her back was to his front at the same time he captured her arm and wrapped it around her belly.

She yanked back her other elbow and caught him in the ribs hard enough to make him grunt at the shaft of pain through his midsection before he caught that wrist too and wrapped it around with her other arm.

That was when she lifted a knee and he knew he’d either have a high, thin heel in his shin or his foot and he didn’t hanker after either so he bent sharply backward, taking her off her feet. She let out a strangled, angry cry and twisted in his arms but he kept hold of her, righted himself and swung her lower body to the side as he took two strides to his couch. He was sitting and he’d maneuvered her in his lap when she pressed back, her hips and legs flying up to power kick out of his arms but he went down with her and rolled over her so she was on her back on the couch and he was on top of her.

He gave her some his weight, tangled his legs with hers to incapacitate them and caught her wrists, which were at his chest, her hands shoving up, and he pulled them out from between them and pressed them into the couch at the sides of her head. This gave her his full weight. He knew he was heavy but he was making a point.

She got his point so she switched to verbal battle. “Get off me!”

“Not until you calm down.”

Her eyes caught his, her back arched and she hissed, “Get… off… me!”

“Calm down, Raquel.”

“Fuck you, Layne!” she screamed.

Layne went silent. He rarely heard much from Mimi’s downstairs but, then again, people weren’t usually screaming at the top of their lungs while ordering coffee.

She stayed silent too for five very long seconds.

Then she accused, “You’re crushing me.”

“And I’ll keep doin’ it, sweetcheeks, until I know you won’t take another swing at me.”

“Stop calling me sweetcheeks,” she hissed.

He put his face in hers and whispered, “Rocky, you got two sets of cheeks. One of them has one dimple, the other has two and you gotta know I remember both bein’ sweet.”

He’d meant to shock her or at least knock her off guard.

He did neither.

“I don’t believe you!”

“Rocky –”

“You are unbelievable!” she repeated with a slight amendment.

His hands tightened on her wrists. “Listen to me –”

“No!” she cut him off. “No way, you jerk. Get off me!”

“Listen!” he barked in her face, she fell silent and stared up at him. “You stop and think for a second, what just happened was good.”

“Oh yeah? Which part? You walking all over my plan? You slapping my ass where my brother works? Or you freaking out Colt and Sully which means Merry and Dad’ll hear about this if they haven’t already?”

“None of those. The part where Rutledge, who thinks he knows what’s goin’ on, now isn’t so damned sure.”

That shut her up for a second before she asked, “What?”

“You order a hit on a man, six weeks later, he isn’t gonna tell you he’s thrilled he got bullets drilled into him and he’d take more.”

That shut her up too and this time she didn’t speak. And she didn’t speak long enough for Layne to realize this wasn’t just good, it was good. Because now they had Rutledge guessing and instead of Merry, Dave and Layne being cornered and forced to watch while Rocky did whatever the hell she intended to do, Layne had her cornered and she had to do whatever the hell he told her to do.

It would keep her safe. She could make friends with Rutledge and he’d never suspect she was up to something and it was unlikely he’d share anything that would put Rocky into danger. And it would keep him safe because, while Rutledge was trying to figure out what, if anything, Layne or Merry were doing, Rocky would deflect attention so Layne could do what he needed to do. And lastly, it would mean Rocky would feel she was doing something when she actually wasn’t doing much of anything except innocently providing cover.

So he made a decision.

“We’re gonna work this,” he informed her.

“Work what?”

“You and me and Rutledge.”

Her eyes grew big and her lips parted.

Fuck it all, that was cute as hell too.

Then she repeated, “You and me and Rutledge?”

“Only thing less likely than a man tellin’ the man who ordered him to be whacked about his newfound joy at bein’ reunited with his ex is that man’s woman doin’ it too.”

Her wide eyes narrowed. “We are not reunited.”

“Rutledge doesn’t know that.”

“This is –”

“You cozy up to Rutledge a different way. I’m at that Station all the time. Merry works there. You start hangin’ there, with Merry or with me. You strike up a friendship with him. You start to confide in him. You convince him all you know is he’s a cop, you’re a cop’s daughter and sister. You convince him that to you, he’s in the family. You confide in him, no way he’s gonna think Merry’s his man. Hell, he’ll start wondering if I was close as I was. I was investigating who got to him, whose payroll he’s on. I feed you what to say, we can turn his mind off us thinkin’ he’s dirty to us just lookin’ into his boss and havin’ no clue he’s got ties. You can also turn his mind onto the fact that I’m not doin’ that anymore.”

“But you’ll be doing it,” she surmised.

“Yeah, but I won’t go in hard, I’ll go in easy.”

She stared at him and he knew he hadn’t convinced her.

So he kept at it. “Same plan, Roc, except with this one, you don’t have to put yourself out there.”

“I have no problem putting myself out there,” she returned.

“Yeah? You can let a dirty cop stick his tongue down your throat?”

She was a cool customer, when she wasn’t taking a swing at him that was, but he saw her cringe before her eyes shot over his shoulder.

Until he saw her cringe he couldn’t be sure she wouldn’t have done it.

Now he knew she couldn’t have done it.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “I suspected that’s where your plan would go south.”

He let her wrists go and her hands went directly to his chest where she put pressure, just not much.

“I would have done it,” she declared and he had to hand it to her, she did it with only a hint of obvious bullshit.

“I believe you,” he lied and made it clear he was lying.

“It would have been gross but I would have done it,” she reiterated.

Layne grinned. “Rocky, you’d get squeamish seein’ blood on your finger if you gave yourself a paper cut. Don’t think you’d be able to convince Rutledge you had the hots for him if you puked into his mouth when he stuck his tongue in yours.”

“I wouldn’t have puked in his mouth,” she snapped.

“Okay, so I don’t think you’d convince him you had the hots for him if you puked on his shoes after he stuck his tongue in your mouth.”

Her face paled and she hissed, “Stop talking about him sticking his tongue in my mouth!”

It took a lot for Layne to choke back his laughter but he did it by asking, “Sweetcheeks, if you can’t even talk about it, tell me again how were you gonna pull off this grand scheme of yours?”

“Shut up, Layne,” she whispered irately and he knew he had her.

“Just sayin’,” he whispered back, smiling at her.

Finally remembering where she was, her hands put more pressure on his chest.

“Get off me,” she demanded.

“Sure,” he replied, “Once I know we got a deal.”

“Well yes, now that you’ve pointed out how gross it would be to… whatever, then obviously your plan is better than my plan so fine,” she bit out that last word, “we’ve got a deal.”

“Good, then you’re comin’ over for dinner tonight.”

He had no idea he was going to say it until he said it but once he’d said it he liked the idea. Maybe too much.

“What?” she whispered.

Layne looked at her and, fuck him, it was out there so he had to go with it.

“You’re comin’ over for dinner tonight,” he repeated.

“But… why?”

“’Cause they might be tailing me, watchin’ me.” That was a lie. They weren’t. He’d know. They thought he’d backed off, taking three bullets had a way of doing that with most men. Layne, however, wasn’t most men. But the look on her face made him know she bought it, she didn’t like it and she was even scared of it which made him feel guilt but he had no choice but to use it. “And ‘cause I owe you a dinner.”

“You owe me a dinner?”

“You fed me and my boys last night, sweetcheeks.”

“But –”

“Though you aren’t getting leg of lamb. Probably Hamburger Helper.”

“Hamburger Helper?” she repeated on a breath. She wasn’t keeping up, finally he had her off guard and he needed to use that too.

So he went on. “And you’re goin’ to the game with me tomorrow.”

She blinked and kept using that breathy voice. “I’m going to the game with you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” he replied. “Though, Rocky, you gotta know I hang with the boys and I watch my sons play ball so you’ll have to hang with the boys too.” He smiled at her. “Gotta say, though, I figure they won’t mind.”

“But… um… everyone in town goes to the game.”

“Yeah,” he agreed.

“So that means everyone will see us,” she informed him.

“Sweetcheeks, Sully saw us, Colt saw us, half a dozen other people saw us and Betsy was at the reception desk when we walked out hand in hand. She was probably on the phone with one of her kids or grandkids before the doors even closed. You don’t think that shit’s not already flyin’ through the ‘burg?”

Her face got even paler and her eyes grew unfocused in a way that didn’t sit right with Layne.

When she didn’t speak and her eyes stayed distant, he called, “Roc?”

Her eyes focused on his and she whispered one word.

“Jarrod.”

He felt something sweep through him, an emotion that he didn’t quite get, but one he liked, and it rushed through him strong, leaving a golden trail.

“Bonus, baby,” he whispered and he felt her body relax beneath him.

“You know,” she said softly.

She meant about Astley’s new piece.

“I know,” he confirmed.

“Even if he’s got… even with her there, he won’t like this, Layne,” she informed him.

“Good,” he replied without hesitation.

She started to look uncomfortable and her body tensed. “Layne –”

“The whole town’s gonna know.”

He thought she’d like that, getting her own back against her asshole husband, getting in his face by moving on, publicly, to an old flame after only two months separation.

“But –”

“You done with him?” Layne asked and her face grew sharp.

“Obviously.” Her voice was sharp too.

“Then what do you care?”

Her eyes narrowed. “What about Jasper, Tripp… Gabrielle?”

Shit.

He hadn’t thought of that.

He looked over head.

“Layne,” she called and he looked back at her.

“The boys’ll be in on it.”

Her body went so solid, when it did it, it bucked. “They can’t –”

“Not everything, Roc, just enough. They’ll be cool and they’ll keep their mouths shut. They’re good kids.”

“I don’t think –”

“They’ll be cool.”

“And Gabrielle?”

He stared at her face and it hit him that she was hiding something. Looking closer, he saw it was pain.

What the fuck?

“Rocky –” he started to ask.

“She won’t be cool.” Her voice was inching toward anger, using that as a shield for the pain she was failing to hide behind her eyes. “She’s your wife.”

Definitely anger. Each word came out clipped.

But what she said made him angry too, enough to forget what he read in her eyes.

“Hasn’t been that in a long time, sweetcheeks,” he clipped back.

“But –”

“Don’t worry about Gabrielle.”

“Layne, I’m not sure.”

“You got five seconds to give me a better idea.”

She glared at him and he saw her mind working.

He counted to five.

Then he gave her ten.

Then he declared, “No? Then the deal’s done.”

“Layne –”

He jackknifed off her but grabbed her hand and yanked her to her feet in front of him.

“Mimi’s,” he stated, “coffee.”

“Layne.”

“Coffee, sweetcheeks.”

She tugged at her hand but he dragged her to the door.

“Layne!”

He turned and pulled her hand so she fell into his body.

She tipped her head back and looked at him.

“Coffee.”

She glared. Then she did it some more. They went into stare down and he held it intent to do it for as long as it took.

She read that and gave in first.

“All right,” she snapped, “coffee. But I need my purse.”

He turned in order to hide his grin, opened the door, muttered, “No you don’t, sweetcheeks, I’m buyin’,” and he took Rocky to Mimi’s.