Golden Trail (The 'Burg #3)(130)

“You need me to come over, even out the numbers?” Dave offered.

“I’ll take care of Roc,” Layne replied.

There was more silence then, “Tanner, I’m happy for you, I’m happy for Rocky, if this is the right thing but…” he hesitated before he went on, “doesn’t this seem sudden?”

Sudden? Jesus.

“Don’t know, Dave,” Layne returned. “Been wanting her back for eighteen years, she’s felt the same, we’ve been together for a month, both of us strugglin’ to hold it back, Friday it broke through, that doesn’t seem sudden to me.”

“Right,” Dave whispered.

“You got anything to give me?” Layne asked.

“Anything to give you?” Dave asked back.

“Yeah, anything to give me,” Layne repeated.

“Like what?” Dave asked.

“Anything,” Layne returned, losing patience.

Dave was silent.

Layne lost patience.

“Dave –”

Dave cut him off. “I’ll give you this, Tanner, I’ll tell you I lost faith in God the night he took Cecilia from me but, if I’d believed in Him, I woulda prayed for this to happen so now that’s it’s happened, it’s made me think maybe He’s finally kickin’ back in.”

This statement made Layne go silent.

“Happy for you, son, happy for Rocky. It’s about damned time,” Dave whispered and Layne heard the disconnect.

He flipped his phone shut, took a drag from his cigarette and turned to look into the house to see Vera sitting back in her armchair, a smug smile on her face. He couldn’t see Tripp but Jasper was staring at his grandmother, his profile not happy and Rocky was strutting up the stairs.

Fuck, she’d said something else.

Layne crushed out his cigarette and entered the house just as Rocky disappeared around the top of the stairs, heading to his room.

Layne moved after her.

“Tanner,” Vera said. “You shouldn’t smoke. Not even one a –”

She stopped talking when her mouth clamped shut after Layne’s eyes hit her and she read what was in them.

Layne took the stairs two at a time.

He found Rocky in his bed, back to the headboard, knees up, an arm around her calves, pillow sandwiched between her chest and thighs, cheek to her knee and an arm outstretched to point the remote at the TV.

Her head came up when he walked in.

“Hey,” she said softly.

“Hey,” he replied, walked direct to the bed and climbed in.

She watched him do this, her face blank, clearly locked in her head then, when he settled, she went back to the remote, flipping channels on the TV.

“I’m footballed out,” she mumbled her fictitious excuse to leave the living room.

Layne leaned forward, pulled the remote out of her hand, switched the TV off, tossed the remote to the foot of the bed and then gripped the pillow Rocky was cradling and tugged it out. Her head came up and he shoved the pillow behind his back at the headboard and then he went after her. Grabbing a hand, he yanked her forward until she came off-balance and landed with a hand to his chest, her body to his side and her head to his shoulder.

Her head went up and back and she started to pull away while looking at him.

“Layne –” she began.

He interrupted her. “Don’t lock yourself in your head, sweetcheeks, talk to me.”

Her head tipped to the side. “About what?”

“Cassie was a one night stand,” he told her straight out, her eyes got wide then shut down, Layne ignored it and kept talking. “Ma was takin’ the boys to Disneyworld. I’m not a Disneyworld type of guy so I wasn’t goin’ with them. They were gonna leave at oh dark thirty and I went out the night before to meet a friend of mine who lives down in Florida now. I met Cassie while we were out. I came home as they were leavin’ and Ma’s not stupid. But Cassie knew my friend, he gave her my number, she called my cell while we were still there and Ma picked it up. Ma never even met her and I only saw her that once.”

“You don’t have to explain this to me, Layne.”

“Yeah, Roc, I do.”

The blank went out of her eyes as they started to ignite then she said, “Okay, then I don’t want you to explain this to me, Layne.”

“I know you don’t, but you need me to.”

“I don’t think so.”

“I do.”

“Why?”

“’Cause I had a life for eighteen years and you’re gonna hear about it and when you get upset or your feelings hurt, I want you to talk to me about it and not lock yourself in your head.”

“I lock myself in my head to sort things out,” she told him.

“Yeah, baby, but once you locked yourself in your head and locked me out.”

She froze against him then started to pull away but he yanked her right back and when she struggled, he rolled so she was on her back and his weight was on her.

She stilled and glared up at him.

“Why am I always asking you to get off me?” she snapped.

“I don’t know, probably because you’re always tryin’ to take off when I’m not done talkin’ to you.” he clipped.