Golden Trail
Page 38

He put on a pair of slacks, shrugged on a shirt, buttoned it, grabbed the jacket off a hanger, went to his bedroom and pulled on his socks and boots. He shoved his wallet in the inside pocket of the jacket and shrugged that on as he walked downstairs.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Rocky sitting at the island as he rounded the corner into the kitchen, tagging his keys and cell off the counter as he walked to the utility room door.
“Ready?” he asked, stopped, turned to her and froze.
“Yeah,” she replied, her back to him, she was moving, doing something, he didn’t know what, because he couldn’t force his mind to think.
Her back was bare. Completely. There were only thin black straps that curled over her shoulders and stopped at the back of her pits and her lower body was hidden by the island but what he could see of her back it was completely bare.
And her hair was down, down in a sleek, gleaming fall that went to beyond her shoulder blades but, with her movements, was now gliding around the skin of her back and shoulders. That skin disappeared when she pulled up a black coat and settled it on her shoulders. Turning to the island, with one hand she pulled the thick length of her hair free of her coat and with the other hand she grabbed a little, shiny, deep purple purse and a deep purple scarf in some slithery material. Then he heard her heels on the tiles, she rounded the island and he saw her from the front.
The black coat went to her knees but she hadn’t buttoned it and, as she moved, the coat went back and showed the entirety of the dress. The top front of the dress was straight above her br**sts, the middle loose and partially draping, but at her h*ps and thighs the dress clung, as in clung. It was so formfitting it left nothing to the imagination. And it was short. It wasn’t short-short but it came to just below the tops of her thighs. Her long legs went forever under that skirt, they were bare but looked shiny in a sexy way and she was wearing purple, spike-heeled sandals with a f**kload of thin straps that were so damned sexy, just looking at those shoes made him start to get hard.
He tore his eyes from the shoes, made the grave mistake of trailing them up her body and seeing that dress again and then he saw her face. She was arranging the scarf around her neck and her makeup was smoky, in deep grays and purples, heavier than usual, just as perfect… and hot, especially with her hair falling around her face and shoulders.
She got close and even her perfume was stronger.
Fuck.
She stopped, her head down and twisting around as she settled her scarf around her neck, she finished with that, tipped her head back to look at him, tilted it to the side and said, “Ready.”
Yeah, she was ready. Fucking shit, it was going to be a long night.
He turned to the door, opened it and held it for her.
Her perfume assaulted him again as she walked through. He followed her, reaching high to grab the edge of garage door she opened and she preceded him through that as he bleeped the locks on his truck. Rocky headed to the passenger side, Layne followed. She climbed up and he saw more leg, her coat falling back as the skirt stretched to the danger zone and she settled in.
He slammed the door and rounded the hood forcing himself to think of kittens.
He got in, buckled in, hit the garage door opener, started the truck, backed out and hit the garage door opener again. They were out of the development and on the road toward Indy when she spoke.
“Went by the Station today,” she said.
“I know,” he replied.
“Rutledge and I are forming a bond,” she told him.
“Good,” he returned.
“While I was there, Drew caught me.”
Shit.
“Rocky –”
He heard the material of her coat slide against the seat as she turned to him.
“He wanted me to talk to you. He told me some weird stuff about the Youth Group at the Christian Church.”
“Roc –”
“It doesn’t sound good, Layne.”
“He told me the same thing and you’re right, he’s right, it doesn’t sound good. But we got enough on our plate.”
He heard the material slide again as she turned to look out the windshield.
“I’ve been hearing things at school too. I can’t say I’m surprised at what Drew shared.”
Layne made no response.
“I think –” she started.
He glanced at her then back at the road while speaking. “Sweetcheeks, I made a formal complaint about my kids’ football coach. They were at their Mom’s last week but breakfast conversation the week before included the fact that both my boys are bearing the consequences of that, not at games, he’s not that stupid, considering mine wasn’t the only complaint lodged and Gabby’s wasn’t the only other complaint lodged, but during practice.”
He heard her suck in breath but kept talking.
“I got a case that’s takin’ all my time so I haven’t been able to give any to whatever is goin’ down with Stew.”
“That’s not good,” she muttered.
“No, it isn’t,” he agreed. “And you’re wedging yourself close to Rutledge, you got an apartment to set up and if Cosgrove is pissed about the complaints and not afraid to take payback outta my boys during practice, then he won’t be afraid of f**kin’ with the woman he thinks is mine. Summin’ up, sweetcheeks, I’ll repeat, we got enough on our plate.”
She sighed, he waited, she didn’t speak, he glanced at her to see she was looking out the side window, she sighed again, this time heavier.
Then she whispered, “All right.”
Well thank Christ for that.
Layne drove in silence and Rocky followed his lead. They’d had no more heart-to-hearts after the night of pizza and beer. Raquel didn’t share with him about work and told him only what he needed to know about her life. She did this, he reckoned, because this was what he was doing.
However, as they drove, the scent of her perfume filled his cab and the sight of her legs filled his vision. The second was because his eyes were drawn to them no matter how he tried to keep them on the road. It was only filling his mind with visions of those legs bloody and lifeless if he crashed that made him stop.
They were on the Circle when she asked, “Tell me again why we’re all gussied up and going out on the town?”
“Point of this, you and me, is to be seen,” he reminded her. “We haven’t been doin’ much of that.”
“Yes, Layne.” He could tell by the sound of her voice she was looking at him. “But shouldn’t we be seen in the ‘burg?”