Golden Trail
Page 22
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“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, f**k 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 ass**le 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 f**k?
“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.
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, f**k 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 ass**le 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 f**k?
“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.