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 whe
n 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.
&n
bsp; 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.
Chapter Five
Imagination is a Powerful Thing
Layne made sure he was home when his boys got home because Rocky was showing at six o’clock. He wanted enough time to tell them what he had to tell them and not enough time for them to have any to think on it.
They came in with hair wet from their after practice showers and workout bags with their backpacks slung over their shoulders.
Laundry time.
Layne hated laundry. Luckily, his boys both primped as only high school boys did. They felt it a moral imperative to look good at all times and therefore not wear reeking clothes, and since their old man didn’t do laundry until it was either that or go shopping for new clothes (shopping something Layne hated worse than laundry), they did their own.
Golden Trail (The 'Burg Series) Page 8
