Golden Trail (34 page)

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

“Come again?” he asked.

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

“Uh… yeah,” he answered.

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

It was then, he got it.

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

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

“Why not?” he asked.

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

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

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

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

“No,” Rocky snapped then glared at him.

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

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

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

He got close and put his hands to her
hips.

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

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

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

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

Fuck him.

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

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

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

“He’s a smart kid,” Layne told her.

“I know, Layne.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I know you didn’t.”

“I’m just worried,” she shared.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His eyes cut back to hers.

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

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

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

She blinked and asked, “What?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah,” Layne replied.

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

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

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

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

“What?” she whispered.

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

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

“So?” he asked.

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

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

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

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

“I’m not sure –” she started.

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

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

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

“I’ll get blinds,” she shot back.

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

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

Layne cut her off. “Sleep in my bed.”

“Layne –”

“You’re sleepin’ in my bed.”

“Layne!”

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

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

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

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

Then she bought it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Donuts tomorrow, darlin’,” Dev added.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m tired,” she announced.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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