Golden Trail (36 page)

“Am I wrong?”

“You are not to be believed!”

“Baby,” he murmured sounding only slightly
less amused then he actually was.

“Layne,” she snapped back sounding probably
just as pissed as she actually was.

Even though he couldn’t see her clearly in
the dark, they went into stare down. He let this go on for awhile
before he used option two, bent his head and kissed her hard. She
resisted, he persisted and the minute he got his tongue in her
mouth, her body relaxed under his.

He took his fill and enjoyed doing it,
almost too much, before he lifted his head and ordered, “Get
yourself sorted out, sweetcheeks, I’ll be back with your
toothbrush.”

Then he intentionally squeezed the breath
out of her so she couldn’t get a shot in by rolling his bodyweight
over her, getting out of bed on her side, lighting the lamp on the
nightstand and aiming a grin at her lying on her back but up on one
elbow, the other hand holding the covers to her chest, glaring at
him before he walked out of the room to get her toothbrush.

When Layne hit the kitchen, he saw Devin
sitting at a stool in his wife beater and boxer shorts, a mug of
steaming coffee in his hand, his eyes on the News playing low on
the TV. They cut to Layne when he appeared and they watched Layne
walk to the toothbrush sitting on the island.

The toothbrush Jasper bought Rocky was white
and pink. Yes, his son was sharp. As a tack.

Also on the island were two big, white
baker’s boxes opened and stuffed full with Hilligoss donuts.

Layne stopped and looked at Devin. “Please
tell me you put on your pants when you went to the bakery.”

“Of course, boy, it’s cold out there.”

Thank fuck.

Layne turned to the cupboard with the mugs,
making a note to move them to the one over the coffeemaker and he
did this in an effort not to think about why in
the fuck
Devin took
off
his pants when he arrived home from the
bakery, when Devin went on, his tone mulish. “Calais is at the
curb.”

“That’s good,” Layne returned, walking his
mug to the coffeemaker. “’Cause Rocky’s gonna blow through here in
about five minutes and she’s probably gonna take out the garage
door when she goes and it’d be a cryin’ shame she damages the
Calais, seein’ as you put so much effort into keepin’ it in
pristine condition for twenty-five years.”

Without missing a beat, Dev muttered,
“Better put my pants on then.”

Layne poured a cup of coffee, spooned in two
sugars and was stirring it when he turned and saw Devin sauntering
back to the island in wife beater and slacks.

“Remember a time when they left your room in
the mornin’ with a smile on their face, boy, you must be losin’
your touch,” Devin remarked.

“Figure you’ll be in town for awhile, old
man, it might be good to brace,” Layne advised, dropped the spoon
on the counter and took a sip of joe.

Devin’s eyes locked on Layne’s. “We gonna
have fireworks?”

Layne dropped his hand holding the mug but
held Dev’s gaze. “How easy do you think it is for a man to talk a
woman into takin’ a risk on dark and wild?”

“Lotta women not worth that effort,” Dev
returned. “Though, the one you got on your hands, boy, it is and it
is ‘cause it’s not gonna be easy
at all
and that means…
kaboom!
”

Layne walked to the toothbrush and tagged
it, saying, “Like I said, brace.”

Then he turned and walked up the stairs and
into his room. He found Rocky in the bathroom in her bra, her back
to him, zipping up the back of her skirt.

“Toothbrush, sweetcheeks,” he said and she
whirled, one arm going to her middle, one arm covering her breasts
but not before he saw her bra, too, was deep pink and made entirely
of lace.

Christ.

“A moment of privacy,
Layne
,” she
snapped, her eyes full of fire.

Her hair was back in a ponytail and Layne
tossed the toothbrush on the bathroom counter, set his mug down and
walked up to her. He reached around, wrapped his fist around her
ponytail, tugged her head gently back and kissed her hard and
closed-mouthed.

When he lifted his head he kept his hand at
her ponytail so she couldn’t move.

Therefore, she had to fight her fight
verbally. “What was
that?
” she hissed up at him and he
grinned down at her.

“Hot piece of ass in my bathroom wearin’
nothin’ but a sexy bra and a tight skirt after she spent the night
pinnin’ me down to the bed, I walk in on her, I’m gonna kiss her.”
He gave her ponytail a playful tug. “Just keepin’ it real,
sweetcheeks.”

“Don’t call me a piece of ass,” she snapped,
definitely pissed.

“Baby,” he replied, not pissed at all.

“And will you
stop
calling me
sweetcheeks?
” she asked on a demand.

“No,” he answered.

She glared at him then stated, “I did not
pin you down to the bed.”

“Rocky, you were all over me.”

“Was not.”

“You were.”

“Was not!” Her voice was rising.

“Why do you think you got the wakeup call
you got, Roc?” he lied through his teeth. “Man wakes up with a
woman wrapped around him, he acts on instinct.”

She tugged her hair from his hand and
stepped back, forgetting she was only wearing a bra and skirt, she
planted her hands on her hips.

“I see us sleeping together is
not
going to
work,
” she declared.

“I don’t know,” he grinned, “worked for
me.”

She leaned back. “You do know, every cop on
the Force thinks of me like a sister? It’s highly unlikely they’ll
arrest me for assault and battery.”

Layne couldn’t take it anymore, he tipped
back his head and laughed and, since he didn’t have to fight the
urge, his arm shot out and hooked her around the waist, yanking her
forward roughly so her body slammed into his, he tilted his head
forward and shoved his face in her neck so he could laugh
there.

“Layne,” she called, her hands on his abs
pushing.

“Give me a second, sweetcheeks, I’m tryin’
not to bust a gut here.”

“Layne!” she shouted.

His head came up and he smiled down at her.
Then he kept smiling down at her as he wrapped his other arm around
her shoulder blades and pulled her closer, trapping her hands
between them.

Then he dipped his face close to hers and he
whispered, “You’re cute as hell when you get pissed. You always
were cute as hell when you got pissed. I used to piss you off just
to see you get pissed, I liked it so much.”

Her hands stopped pushing and her lips
parted as the fire died out of her eyes and she gazed up at him
with that intensity in her eyes.

He dropped his head so his forehead was
resting against hers. “And, baby, I don’t like it any less now,” he
whispered.

He heard her suck in a soft breath but he
ignored it, touched his mouth to hers and let her go.

Turning, he nabbed his coffee mug and didn’t
look at her as he walked out of the room, saying, “Dev went to
Hilligoss. There’s two dozen donuts downstairs. You better get down
there before the boys do, sweetcheeks, or you’re gonna be
disappointed.”

Then he walked out of the room.

My Kind of Partner

The security beep sounded and Layne, sitting
at his desk in his office, turned to look at the monitor.

Colt was walking up the steps.

Layne glanced at his watch and clenched his
jaw. He was late. He was supposed to go over to Rocky’s for a quick
dinner before they went to the boys’ game. But that afternoon a
bitter wind started to whip through the ‘burg and he needed to go
home and get a sweater. To get to Rocky’s, he should have left ten
minutes ago. To get home and then get to Rocky’s, he should have
left twenty minutes ago.

He heard the front office door open and
close and he reached out to the desk to pick up his cell. He
started to flip it open when Colt’s tall frame filled the doorway
and his thumb on his phone stopped when he saw Colt’s
expression.

“Have a minute?” Colt asked.

“I didn’t until I saw your face,” Layne
answered.

Colt walked in, sat down in one of the two
chairs facing Layne’s desk and didn’t say a word or take his eyes
from Layne.

“Give me a second, I gotta call Rocky. I’m
already late for dinner,” Layne told him and Colt nodded.

Layne flipped open the phone and scrolled
down to Raquel’s number as he watched Colt lean forward and tag a
yellow legal pad from Layne’s desk then he nabbed a pen. He sat
back and started writing on the pad while Layne put the phone to
his ear.

It rang once then, “Hey Layne!”

Layne blinked and his eyes unfocused so much
Colt was there but he’d disappeared.

She sounded excited and happy, excited and
happy to hear from him.

It had been two days since Keira, pasta bake
and Rocky spending the night in his bed.

After that, Rocky had put her shields up but
it wasn’t the same game as she’d been playing. It was friendlier,
more open but she was still on guard. He let her have that play and
backed off, not because he intended actually to back off but
because he wanted to soften her up, get her guard down, take her
off-balance before he made
his
next play.

Not to mention, he had to wait until she was
done with her fucking period.

They’d slept together both nights in his
bed. Both nights she started with her back to him and both nights
he’d woken with her pinning him to the bed. Each morning, Layne
woke before Rocky, waited until she did and also waited while she
slid carefully away and exited the bed. Layne never let on that he
was awake before her and Rocky never spoke of it. He didn’t know if
she knew he was awake and she didn’t share.

They’d also had dinner at his house both
nights. The first night was Wednesday before the Youth Group
meeting and when the boys were gone Rocky had been as jumpy as a
cat waiting for Tripp and Jasper to get home. Luckily, Devin was
there and entertained her with his own particular blend of
cantankerous, flirtatious and hilarious. When the boys got home,
though, Raquel interrogated them like she’d been trained by the
CIA. Even so, they didn’t have much, it was a Church Youth Group
and the boys were getting the lay of the land. But Jasper decided
to go to the Saturday afternoon meeting as well before he left
Tripp to it. They didn’t try to bag anything with a print. The
other kids were surprised to see them there, the Layne boys weren’t
Church Youth Group kind of guys, their turning up caused a minor
sensation and his sons, rightly, didn’t make any rash moves.

The second night was Thursday and, after
dinner, he made Rocky stretch out on the couch with him and watch
TV while Tripp took one armchair, Devin the other and Jasper talked
on the phone with Keira upstairs while he was supposed to be doing
his homework. Rocky didn’t like it but she didn’t fight it, likely
because Tripp and Devin were there. She fell asleep with her back
to the couch, her cheek to his chest, her arm resting on his abs
and her legs tangled with his. And just like eighteen years ago,
when he moved after Letterman, she woke, groggy, and he helped her
stumble up the stairs, she disappeared in the walk-in closet while
he gave her time to change, came out wearing his tee, collapsed in
bed and was out in seconds.

But for two days she didn’t give him an in
and she didn’t let her guard down for him to knock her off-balance.
She played the part but every word, look and step she executed with
extreme caution.

And now she was greeting him, excited and
happy.

“Hey sweetcheeks,” he greeted back.

“We’re having hot beef sandwiches for
dinner,” she informed him and then finished, “with cheese.”

“Sounds good, Roc, but I’m gonna be
late.”

There was silence then a disappointed,
“Oh.”

Fuck. He liked Rocky excited and happy, he
was not a big fan of Rocky disappointed.

“Colt came by, we need to talk,” he
explained.

“Um… okay. Are you going to be long?” she
asked and Colt moved, Layne looked at him and saw he was leaning
forward.

Colt dropped the legal pad in front of Layne
and the words, “Do you sweep?” were written on it.

Layne’s eyes went to Colt. He wasn’t talking
about the floors. He was talking about bugs.

“Might be awhile,” Layne said to Rocky but
his eyes never left Colt as he nodded his head.

Colt sat back and held Layne’s gaze.

Rocky hesitated then replied, “I’ll wrap
them up. We’ll take them with us and eat on the road.”

“Perfect, baby,” he murmured. “Gotta
go.”

“Okay, Layne. Tell Colt I said hi.”

“Will do, Roc, later.”

“Bye.”

He flipped his phone shut and Colt didn’t
hesitate before saying, “It’s clean?”

“It’s clean,” Layne replied, moving the
phone in his hand, sliding it between his fingers, end to end, then
flipping it around and doing the same. “What’s up?”

“We got a situation,” Colt replied.

“That being?” Layne asked.

“Sean’s sister,” Colt told him and Layne’s
brows went up.

“Sean’s sister?”

“She’s got a tumor on her pituitary gland,”
Colt answered.

That sucked. Sean was a good man, a good
cop, a newer detective in the department, he was young, his sister
younger but it would suck that anyone was sick. That said, Colt
didn’t need to give him this information and therefore Colt had
another reason for giving him this information.

“You’re tellin’ me this because…?” Layne
prompted.

“I’m tellin’ you this because it’s benign,
it won’t kill her but it messes with her hormones. She’s gotta have
replacement therapy her whole life or she’ll feel like shit. She
got diagnosed, had neurosurgery where they got most of the tumor
but before they got the tumor, it damaged the gland. That’s not
unusual, Sean says the damn thing is the size of a pea and it’s not
easy, maneuvering up there. They go through the freaking nose.” He
shook his head then went on. “But the gland doesn’t work right and
she’s not feelin’ better. She’s got two kids, an asswipe of a
husband who bagged on her when she started to get sick, before she
was even diagnosed. He’s gone and not comin’ back. Now they’re
tellin’ her she has to have an injection, she has to take it every
day and they say it’ll help her get back on her feet, feel more
like herself. She can’t work but part-time, doesn’t have the
energy, quality of life is shit, she needs this injection.”