“Two cigarettes, that’s tellin’,” Devin muttered.
“Shut up, Dev,” Layne muttered back.
Devin shut up. Then he stubbed his stoagie out in the ashtray and got up. He moved around the table and stood behind Layne’s chair as Layne fired up a cigarette.
On Layne’s exhale, Devin said, “I’ll leave you to your smoke.”
“Obliged,” Layne murmured.
Devin moved to the door and Layne knew there’d be a parting shot even before he heard Dev hesitate in sliding it open.
“Grab hold, Tanner,” he whispered into the night then Layne heard the door open.
“Fuck,” Layne whispered one second after he heard it close.
Chapter Twelve
Toothbrush
Rocky’s warmth was pressed against him, her head on his chest, her arm heavy on his stomach, her knee resting on his thigh – pinning him to his back in the bed.
Her head shifted, her arm tightened around him and she slid up so her lips were against the underside of his jaw.
“You need to wake me up, baby, I need to get to work,” she whispered.
Layne’s eyes opened and he saw dark.
But what he felt was Rocky’s warmth pressed against him, her head on his chest, her arm heavy on his stomach, her knee resting on his thigh – pinning him to his back in the bed.
Layne stared into the darkness and let the smell of her, the feel of her, the warmth, the softness, Rocky pressed close, pinning him to the bed for the first time in eighteen years, penetrate.
He closed his eyes and focused on those sensations and the golden trail they left.
Then he opened his eyes and smiled.
The night before, after Layne sat outside brooding in the dark through his second cigarette and to the end of his beer, he entered the house to find Jasper and Keira preparing to leave and Rocky and Tripp in the kitchen putting the finishing touches on cleaning it.
Layne’s eyes went to his watch and he saw that Jas had half an hour before Keira’s curfew and Keira lived at most a ten minute drive away so either his son was trying to ingratiate himself with Cal and Violet by taking her safely home with time to spare or he was going to take Keira somewhere so he could make out with her.
Layne was guessing the latter.
“Be back, Dad,” Jasper called from the front door, his hand in Keira’s.
“Thanks for dinner, Mr. Layne,” Keira called after Jasper was done.
“Any time, Keira,” Layne called back and they disappeared.
Layne looked at Devin who was standing at the front of the couch, already had his arms stretched over his head and was faking a huge yawn.
Then he heard Rocky announce in a firm, school teacher voice, “Layne, I need to talk to you.”
Surprised at her tone, his eyes cut to her, she gave him a look and then strutted to the steps and up them, still wearing her heels, her ass swaying with every step.
Layne stood there and watched because he liked the show but also because she was heading up the stairs and he hadn’t had to make a complicated play to get her up there.
He heard Devin chuckle and he looked to his friend, saw his eyes shining and Layne grinned at him.
“Got some homework to do, Dad,” Tripp informed him and Layne’s gaze went to his son.
“Do me a favor and do it down here,” Layne replied, Tripp’s eyes went in the direction of the stairs he couldn’t see from his place in the kitchen then they came back to his old man, he grinned then he nodded.
Layne headed up the stairs.
The light over the desk was on when he got there but Rocky was standing in the middle of the set up, her head moving slowly, her eyes taking in the exercise equipment. When he arrived, they shot to him and he knew something was up. Rocky was not happy.
Jesus, how long was he outside?
She glanced at the open double doors to his room then back at him.
“Private,” she said in a low voice, turned on her high heel and strutted into his room.
Layne stared after her a second then dropped his head and grinned at his boots while he followed her. He walked in, closed the door, wiped the grin off his face and looked at Raquel standing in his room.
Melody had come out after Layne had closed on the house. Melody had also chosen every stick of furniture and most of the homewares in that house. This included Layne’s bedroom furniture, burgundy sheets and dark gray comforter. This also meant all of it was expensive, masculine, in good taste and of excellent quality. She’d bought him (using his money) three sets of sheets because she knew his aversion to laundry. Layne hadn’t changed the sheets Rocky had slept in for over a week because it took that long for him not to smell her perfume. This could have been his imagination but he didn’t fucking care.
“Do you work out?” Rocky asked, taking him out of his thoughts and his eyes sliced to her because her tone was angry and, from her question, he couldn’t fathom why.
“Come again?” he asked.
She jabbed a finger at the doors behind him. “Do you work out?”
“Uh… yeah,” he answered.
She threw up both hands. “Layne, you got shot two months ago.”
It was then, he got it.
He took two steps into the room, cautiously saying, “Yeah, sweetcheeks, I remember, I was there.”
She crossed her arms on her chest. “You shouldn’t be working out.”
“Why not?” he asked.
She leaned toward him and hissed, “You were shot two months ago!”
Layne crossed his arms on his chest as well and replied softly, “Yeah, baby, I was shot, but it was over two months ago.”
“You aren’t recovered enough to work out,” she declared.
“You in on my doctor’s appointments?” Layne returned.
“No,” Rocky snapped then glared at him.
Layne studied her, wondering how to play this, especially knowing what he now knew about Raquel Merrick.
Then he asked quietly, “You called me up here to tell me I shouldn’t be working out?”
She kept glaring at him, trying to slip into a stare down but he started toward her and she dropped her head, turning it slightly to the side to look at the floor as well as hide from him.
He got close and put his hands to her hips.
“Baby, look at me,” he ordered gently, saw her chest expand and then, slowly, her eyes came to his. “I’m takin’ it easy, yeah? I’m okay and I’ll only get back to one hundred percent if I work on it. I’m not doin’ my normal routine, I’m takin’ it slow but steady and I’m bein’ smart. Swear.” She kept her eyes locked to his and he finished, “Now, tell me what’s really buggin’ you.”
She bit her lip then pulled from his hands and walked across the room to look out the window. Layne watched as she tucked behind her ear that fall of hair that never stayed secured in the holders, clips and pins at the back of her head and she stared into the dark night.
It took several seconds but she finally spoke to the window. “It isn’t my place to say, Layne, he’s not my son but I’m having second thoughts about this Tripp business.”
And that was when Layne knew it, seeing Rocky standing in his bedroom in her sexy getup and sexier high heels, her hair tucked behind her ear, her arms crossed on her chest, her concern for his son evident in her profile – Layne knew he was in love with her. Not only that, he’d never stopped loving her. Not once, not for a second, not for twenty-one years.
Fuck him.
It took a lot out of him but Layne stayed where he was, separated from her by ten feet in his bedroom.
“He’ll be fine, Roc,” Layne assured and her eyes went away from the window, coming to him, her neck twisting to do it.