Golden Trail (The 'Burg #3)(103)

Layne’s mouth filled with saliva and he swallowed it down.

Jesus.

He definitely needed a new job.

He wasted no time and didn’t try to hide. He’d done this often enough. Even with him right at the window, they weren’t going to spot him. They were both concentrating on other things. Layne got his shots, moved from the window, crouched with his back to the trailer, scrolled through what he had viewing the screen on the back of his camera, decided he had enough at the same time deciding, once those shots were printed, he was going to destroy the memory card and the camera.

His eyes went to Ryker and he nodded, Ryker nodded back and they moved to the SUV.

When they were underway, Ryker said, “Drop me by my babe’s.”

“You got it.”

Ryker directed him to a neighborhood in the ‘burg. Lower middle class, neat but tiny houses that people took care of. Layne pulled into the drive that Ryker indicated and no sooner had he stopped when the outside light came on. There was a black flag by the door with an orange pumpkin on it and three carved jack o’ lanterns lining the front steps. Layne was mildly surprised that Ryker bagged a babe who lived in a tidy neighborhood and had a pumpkin flag flying at her door and jack o’ lanterns on her steps.

He was more surprised when the front door opened, a leggy woman with a mass of curly red hair stood in it, her thin, short robe not hiding much of her phenomenal figure but it also wasn’t putting it on show either. She was peering at the truck, looking awake but ready for bed and whatever might happen there. She’d waited up for her man.

Layne looked at Ryker and noted, “Not bad.”

At Layne’s words, Ryker turned to him and shared, “She makes pumpkin bread that should win awards and the same can be said for the way she gives head. Seriously, bro, every time she goes down on me, every single time, I swear my dick’s gonna explode. She’s that good.”

Layne shook his head. “I already got Stew goin’ at his piece burned in my brain, Ryker, now you’re just bein’ cruel.”

Ryker shot him his ugly smile, opened his door and folded out of the cab. Layne put the SUV in reverse, pulled out but caught sight of Ryker entering the house, his huge frame hiding his woman but he had an arm around her, his neck bent to look down at her, shuffling her back. Ryker kicked the door closed and Layne’s eyes went back to the road.

He drove home and noted no Calais on the curb or in the drive and, when the garage door went up, no Charger. Seth apparently decided to brave the homefront and Layne hoped he hadn’t made the wrong decision.

Layne entered the house and Blondie moseyed up to him, prepared to give a greeting but tuckered out. He gave her a quick rubdown then moved beyond her, up the stairs, Blondie following and they separated at the top, Blondie heading to Jasper’s opened door. He shrugged his jacket off and swung it around the back of his desk chair. Then he secured his guns and the camera in the locked cabinet and walked into his room.

He stopped at his side of the bed. Moonlight was shining through all three of the windows, the curtains opened, Rocky on her side of the bed curled tight into a ball. He reached under his pillows, got his pajamas and didn’t bother going to the walk-in to change, he did it right there. Then he walked to the windows and started to close the curtains. He was on window three when he heard Rocky.

“What are you doing?”

He turned to her and replied softly, “Closin’ us in, baby.”

He watched, the moonlight from the window he hadn’t shut off to outside illuminating her as she threw back the covers and got out of bed.

She went to one of the windows he’d done and threw open the curtains.

What the f**k?

“Roc –”

She turned to him and whispered, “It’s too dark.”

Okay, again… what the f**k?

She’d never been scared of the dark.

“Rocky, we need the curtains closed.”

She shook her head and moved to the window next to the one he was at. “No.”

He walked to her as she threw one side of the curtains open and asked what was on his mind. “Baby, what the f**k?”

“It’s too dark,” she repeated.

“We don’t need people seein’ in, Roc, and there are people out there who’ll be lookin’.”

“It’s too dark,” she said yet again.

She moved to pass him to get to the other side of the drapes and he caught her by hooking an arm around her belly. She stopped and looked up at him.

“Rocky –”

“I need them open, Layne.” She tried to pull from him but he tightened his arm, sliding it around her to bring her up against his front.

“We can’t sleep with them open, Roc, too much exposure.”

“I need them open,” she repeated.

“Sorry, sweetcheeks, that’s not gonna happen,” he told her, felt her body get tight, not with anger, with something else, something that started seeping into the room, something not good and not right.

“I need them open,” she whispered, her voice suddenly trembling.

Layne heard it and treaded cautiously when he reminded her, “Baby, you’ve slept with them closed the last three nights.”

“Yes,” she was still whispering, “but you were here.”