Golden Trail (The 'Burg #3)(147)

Layne burst out laughing, his arms went around her and he rolled her again to her back, this time he covered her torso with his, buried his face in her neck and asked, “You lay claim to the hottest guy in the ‘burg? Who’s that then?”

She slapped his arm lightly and whispered, “Shut up.”

He lifted his head and smiled at her shadowed face, “No really, I wanna know.”

“Stop fishing for compliments.”

He bent his neck and rubbed the side of his nose against hers, whispering, “You think I’m hot.”

“You know you’re hot, you always did,” she stated and he lifted his head.

“Yeah, and you always did too, that’s why you strutted back and forth to the window at Fulsham’s Custard Stand five times while I was sitting there, eatin’ my cone the first time I saw you, ‘cause you wanted some of this and got it by swinging your ass in my face.”

She gasped again. “I did not!”

“Sweetcheeks, you so did.”

“If I recall, I needed a napkin,” she shot back.

“Five of them?”

“It was a hot day! My cone was melting too fast for me to eat it.”

“Baby, when you weren’t struttin’, you were lickin’ and you took your time because that got my attention too.”

“I forgot how full of yourself you could be,” Rocky snapped.

“And I forgot about you lickin’ that cone,” Layne returned. “We’re goin’ to Fulsham’s tomorrow after dinner.”

“It’s closed for the winter,” she retorted.

“Then I’m buyin’ ice cream and cones at Kroger’s.”

“And I’m arranging to be fed intravenously until the end of my days.”

Layne burst out laughing again and rolled to his back, taking Rocky with him so she was on top. He knew she wasn’t seriously pissed and they were playing at bickering when she scooted down and settled with her cheek to his chest and her arm around him. He lifted a hand and slid it through her hair, then again, and repeat.

“Baby,” he called and she mumbled, “Mm?”

“The third time, you said, you needed Atticus,” he stated and her head and hand came up but only so she could rest her chin on her hand in his chest and look at him.

“What?”

“In class today, you said the third time you read To Kill a Mockingbird, you needed Atticus,” he felt her body get tight and he pushed, “when was that?”

“Layne –”

“When was that?”

“I don’t –”

His hand twisted in her hair and his other arm went around her, pulling her up his chest so they were face to face.

“When was that?” he repeated.

She was silent and this silence spread.

Then she whispered, “When I lost my real-life version of him.”

“Jesus,” Layne whispered back instantly.

She’d said, Atticus Finch is the most beautiful man I’ve ever met in print. He’s a good dad and he does what’s right, not what’s safe, not what’s popular. What’s right. He’s gentle. He’s smart. He’s strong. He’s decisive and he’s willing to follow through with his decisions, no matter what the odds.

“Jesus,” he repeated, still whispering.

Rocky took advantage of his immobility and moved, making her point by brushing her lips lightly against the scar beneath his shoulder then putting her cheek there, her arm around his abs, pinning him to the bed.

“You aren’t the same as him, of course, Atticus wasn’t a badass, or, if he was, he was a quiet one. But Atticus was about doing what was right and you were too and still are. And I missed you so, when I read it again, because I was missing you and I figured I’d never have anything like that again, it was all about Atticus because if I couldn’t have it, it felt good to be able to spend time with it in my head.”

She stopped speaking, Layne stared at the dark ceiling and Rocky’s arm tightened around him.

“You have it again.”

That came from Layne, his voice thick.

“Weird,” she whispered. “I thought it was perfect but somehow it’s better this time around.”

At her words, Layne was done and he communicated this by rolling her to her back, covering her with his body and kissing her hard and deep.

Rocky kissed him back. Then she did other things to him, he did other things to her and she ended up sliding out of bed, finding her nightshirt, going to the bathroom, cleaning up, coming back to bed where she pinned him and fell instantly to sleep.

Layne didn’t. Layne wanted to believe but he couldn’t. He’d believed before and his beautiful life was torn from him.

So tomorrow, he was talking to Garret Merrick even if he had to hunt the man down.

Chapter Twenty

Good Girl

“Dave, I’m bein’ serious here, it takes much longer for him to contact me, it won’t be good,” Layne in his chair behind his desk, swiveled to look out the window toward Main as he growled in his phone.

“I hear what you’re sayin’, Tanner, and all I got for you is work it out with Roc,” Rocky’s father replied.

“Bullshit,” Layne hissed. “And that’s the same bullshit Merry fed me.”