Golden Trail (20 page)

Then she said, “No, no, you’re right. You
were right to do this. You should be in control. It shouldn’t be a
surprise. Not like with Gabrielle. This is better. It was shorter
and there were a lot less witnesses.”

“He needs to get some of his own back,”
Layne told her and she started nodding again.

“Yes, of course. You’re right about that
too. And you were right not to tell me. I wouldn’t have come.”

He sat back in his seat and took a sip of
his beer, his eyes on her watching her eyes move anywhere but to
him.

He put his beer down and asked, “So, if I’m
right, why do I feel like I’m standin’ on a sidewalk lookin’ at
your bloody mangled body after I shoved you under a bus?”

Finally, her eyes darted to him. She stared
at him a second before her face cracked and her mouth twitched up
into a smile.

“I’m fine,” she said softly. “Seriously, you
did the right thing. It’s over.”

“It isn’t,” he contradicted her. “We gotta
go over there tomorrow.”

“No, I’ll do that. I don’t have much to pick
up. Just some things I didn’t get before because… well, I didn’t
have a place so I didn’t have anywhere to put them. It won’t take
me long.”

“No way in hell I’m lettin’ you go over
there with him and his girl there, Roc.”

“Honestly, Layne, it won’t take long.”

“Good, then with two of us, it’ll take half
the time.”

She stared at him and Layne could tell she
was thinking.

Then she decided, “I’ll take Merry.”

“Merry’s at the lake this weekend.”

“Oh right, I forgot.” She chewed her lip
then said, “Dad’ll help.”

“Your Dad can’t lift boxes.”

“I’ll make them light.”

“Sweetcheeks, it’s been rainin’ three days
and the rain isn’t supposed to clear until Wednesday. Your Dad
probably isn’t feelin’ great about now.”

He knew he had her when her eyes started to
flash.

“I’ll take Josie then,” she was beginning to
sound desperate.

“I’m going.”

“Layne –”

Layne leaned forward. “Why are you so
desperate for me not to go?” She opened her mouth to speak but he
asked another question. “And what was his parting shot all
about?”

She closed her mouth with a snap and her
eyes scanned the ceiling and if she started whistling a tune, he
wouldn’t have been surprised.

He leaned in further. “Sweetcheeks, you know
I’m stubborn and you know I’ll get what I want and I’ll go at it
all night until I get it, so spill. What’s goin’ on?”

She glared at him.

Then she said, “He knows about you.”

Layne nodded. “Yes, I would guess if you
spent ten years livin’ with a guy you’d share history. So?” Her
eyes shifted over his shoulder. “Rocky,” he warned.

Her eyes shifted back.

“Let’s just say you’re a hard act to
follow.”

Fuck.

Bullet to the gut. Agony.

Layne sat back and changed his mind. “Maybe
we should stop talkin’ about this.”

“Good idea,” Rocky agreed instantly, picking
up her menu and snapping it open. “So… the steaks are good here but
you have to get a sauce on top. They’re killer. They turn the
steaks into heaven but in meat form. Béarnaise is good. They also
do a pepper sauce that is very tasty but the béarnaise is way
better. And get the sautéed potatoes. They rock. They sauté them in
onions, brilliant. Oh! And I had this seared tuna here once. I
swear, it melted on my tongue…”

Layne watched her while she blathered and he
really didn’t want to think it but he couldn’t help but think, even
in that getup with her hair around her face, looking glamorous, she
was still downright, fucking
cute.

* * * * *

They were in the truck on the way home and
Layne was contemplating the fact that Rocky was right. The
béarnaise sauce was really good. As were the sautéed potatoes.

The best part, however, was watching Rocky
eat a pile of custard-filled, hot fudge-topped profiteroles. He
could swear, after the third bite, she was going to have an orgasm
and, watching her, he nearly had one.

He glanced at her to see she was staring out
the side window and it came to him that he was wrong. The best part
was sitting across from a Rocky wearing that dress, her hair down,
after she had recovered from the exchange with Astley, was into her
second glass of wine and had relaxed. Even with her behind her
shields and with his shields up, that didn’t make her any less
interesting, amusing, exciting and, especially, appealing.

“Layne?” she called into the silent cab.

“Yeah, Roc,” he answered.

“Thank you,” she said.

“For what?” he asked.

He heard the material of her coat slide
against the seat as she turned to him. “I know this is awkward, and
weird, and… well,
awkward.
And I know because of my crazy
scheme I kind of pushed you into this whole… um,
situation.
But you’re being really nice and you definitely didn’t have to go
out of your way to arrange that, uh… tête á tête with Jarrod and
what you said to him was nice, though, obviously, not nice
for
him
but, I mean, it was nice about me.” She paused, sucked in a
breath then continued. “You know, being a good woman he fucked over
and all and –”

He cut her off. “Roc?”

“What?”

“You’re welcome.”

She went silent before she whispered,
“Thanks for, um… you’re welcoming me.”

He laughed low.

Jesus she was a nut.

And absolutely no less appealing with her
shields up.

He turned into his development and luckily,
after living there for over a year, found his house without getting
lost.

There was a car on the street parked between
his house and the house next door and he hoped to God for the
owner’s sake that the HOA Nazis weren’t out patrolling or someone
would receive a testy letter tomorrow.

He hit the garage door opener, slid up the
drive beside Rocky’s Merc and parked in the garage wondering if she
drank whisky. He had whisky and beer in the house and it would be
good to sit and end the night with Rocky and a glass of whisky. It
wouldn’t be smart, but it would be good.

The Charger’s spot was empty. The boys were
back at his house for the week but out that day and night, Jasper
with friends during the day and on a date with Keira that evening.
Tripp was hanging with some buds, having spent the night after the
game at one of their houses, he was supposed to spend the day
jacking around, going to the mall and being home that evening after
they went to a movie.

He switched off the ignition and Rocky had
jumped down and rounded the hood by the time he joined her. He
opened the door and leaned forward, holding it for her to precede
him and then he walked by her through the utility room and did the
same for the kitchen door.

When they both got into the kitchen he saw
the house was dark and he stopped thinking about how to convince
Rocky to stay and have a drink. It was early, not even eleven.
Tripp was supposed to be home by ten but his curfew wasn’t until
midnight. Plans may have changed but, if they did, he should have
called.

Layne started to reach to switch on the
light when they went on, bright and blazing, and he heard shouted,
“Surprise, baby!”

Then he looked beyond a rock solid Raquel to
see Melody standing in his kitchen wearing high-heeled, black
platform sandals and see-through, black underwear.

Fuck!

“Ohmigod!” Melody shouted, covering herself
with her arms.

“Melody, Christ!” Layne clipped, moving
quickly around Rocky and in front of her to block Melody from view.
“What the fuck!”

“I… ohmigod!” Melody cried, edging backward
toward the couch in the living room.

“Fuck, woman, I got two teenaged boys living
in this house and you’re practically fuckin’ naked! Jesus. How the
hell did you get in here?”

“Tripp… Tripp let me in then he took off,”
Melody answered, still edging back, she snatched up a robe off the
back of the couch and started pulling it on.

“He took off?” Layne asked.

“He didn’t… he didn’t tell me you were…” Her
eyes shot to Rocky who still hadn’t moved. “I told him I needed
alone time with you. He called a friend and they… he didn’t tell me
you were on
a date.
”

“No! No, that isn’t what this is,” Rocky put
in and now Layne saw she was on the move, edging along the counter
pressed against it as if she wanted the counter, cupboards and then
the wall to absorb her. “I’m… I’ll be… you two just… I’ll be
going.”

“Roc –” Layne started and her head snapped
toward him but her eyes didn’t meet his.

“No, that’s okay, Layne, I’ll just… just let
myself out.” She was sliding across the fridge now and looking
anywhere but Layne and Melody. “You two just… enjoy your evening.
I’ll let myself out.”

“Rocky.” He moved toward her and she started
moving quicker, rounding the fridge, she caught her heel on the lip
that separated the tile from the wood and went crashing down, her
hand slamming into the wood first, followed by her right hip and
thigh.

“Fuck!” he hissed, moving swiftly toward
her.

“Ohmigod! Are you okay?” Melody, now wearing
her robe, shot forward too.

Rocky waved a hand at them, facing the
floor, pushing up, the heavy curtain of her hair obscuring her
features.

“I’m okay,” she whispered. “I’m good.”

Layne bent and put a hand on her hip and one
on her bicep but she pulled it violently out of his grip.

“I’m good,” she whispered to the floor,
pushing forward, dragging her body away from him, she gracefully
got up, movements fluid, as only Raquel could do, and gained her
feet.

“Did you hurt anything?” Melody asked as
Rocky kept her head dipped, much like Tripp did after Cosgrove got
through with him, and pulled her jacket together using only two
fingers because she was doing this with the hand still clutching
her purse.

“No, I’m okay.” She was in profile to Layne
and she shook her hair back and lifted a hand that he saw was
trembling, pulling back the hair on the opposite side to him and
tucking it behind her ear. He could see she shot Melody a false
smile. “See, just fine. I’ll go.”

“Roc –” he started, putting his hand on her
arm again but her head turned, slow, the movement liquid, she
tipped it back and he caught half a second of her eyes, the bottom
edges brimming bright with tears, their depths filled with a pain
so stark, his body froze and his chest tightened, squeezing out all
his oxygen then she looked to the ground and turned abruptly,
breaking contact with his hand.

“Have a good night!” she called and ran, her
heels clicking on the wood, to the door.

Layne looked over his shoulder to Melody and
growled, “Get dressed.”

Then he went after Rocky who was already out
the door.

He caught her still opened car door as she
folded herself in it, her hand shooting out to the handle and he
pushed back as she pulled in.

“Rocky, hang on a second,” he said,
crouching in the open door.

She kept her eyes glued to the steering
wheel. “You should go in.”

“Look at me.”

“You should…” She took a deep breath and
then turned to him with a bright, totally fake smile. “Thanks for
dinner. It was nice. My treat next time.” She looked to the house
then back at him before she said softly, “You should go in, Layne.
She probably feels like an idiot. You need to talk to her.”

“Roc –”

“Go in,” she whispered, her voice suddenly
trembling so much it was hard to hear in more ways than one. She
was losing it. “Layne, please get out of my door and go into the
house.”

He started to lift a hand to her face
saying, “Baby –”

Her head jerked forward and her eyes
squeezed closed. “Don’t! Please, please just
go in.
”

He stared at her profile and clenched his
teeth. Then he straightened, stepped out of the door, slammed it,
she fired up her car and backed out fast, accelerating forward even
faster.

He watched until he lost sight of her car
then stalked into his house, the look of Rocky, tears and pain in
her eyes, burned on his brain, and he threw open the storm door,
the front door, slammed it and moved through the house, taking the
steps two at a time.

Melody was in his bedroom quickly yanking
down a t-shirt. He saw her bag on the floor and she couldn’t have
been there more than two hours and the fucking thing had already
exploded. There were two glossy shopping bags from her store lined
against the wall.

“You know I was shot nine weeks ago,” he bit
out.

She didn’t look at him when she whispered,
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“That coulda had a different ending, I
thought for a second before I walked into this goddamned house that
someone might have broken in and I came in armed.”

She jerked her head toward him. “Tanner, I’m
so sorry. I didn’t think.”

“No, you didn’t. Fuck, even in LA, you
pulled that shit, that coulda happened. You know better.”

“I know!”

He kept at her. “It coulda been Jas comin’
home from his date and gettin’ an eyeful.”

She shook her head and rushed to her bag,
dropping to her knees and shoving things in.

“Things have changed, Melody, from when it
was you and me and sun and a population of people with bleached
teeth in LA.”

“I know, Tanner,” she told her bag.

He stared at Melody but all he could see was
Rocky.

Fuck! Why couldn’t he get that
fucking
look on Rocky’s face out of his goddamned head?

She zipped her bag closed and he watched
her. Melody was tall, lean, great tits and they were real.
Thirty-five. Long, dark hair. Blue eyes. She was also funny and
sweet.

Fuck him.

Layne made a decision.