Golden Trail (The 'Burg #3)(32)

His hand was already in the air so he moved it slightly and curled his fingers around Jasper’s neck, giving him a firm squeeze. Jasper’s eyes moved to him, that golden hope shone on Layne in that moment and Layne didn’t want to lose it and he knew it would be lost when Jasper came back to himself. So Layne quickly gave him another squeeze then a gentle shove, released him and turned away.

Therefore, he missed the fact that the golden hope had changed, gone deeper as Jasper’s eyes stayed on his Dad’s back as his father walked away.

And since he was watching his feet hit the floor, he missed Rocky’s eyes go half-mast and her mouth staying soft as she watched him walk away from his son.

* * * * *

He felt her mouth touch his then slide to his jaw, up his jaw and to his ear.

Then Rocky whispered, “Wake up, baby.”

* * * * *

Layne heard those words in his head at the same time he heard dog tags in the room and his eyes opened.

He was at an angle on the couch, slouched, his feet on the coffee table. The TV was on but low, some sports talk show. There were lamps lit, not many of them.

He looked to the left to see Rocky, her sandals on the floor, curled barefoot in the armchair, knees up and lying on the armrest, head twisted and resting on the pillowed back of the reclined chair. She was asleep.

“Dad,” Jasper called quietly and Layne looked up to see his son standing beside him looking down. “Tripp’s already upstairs. You cool?”

“Yeah, Jas,” Layne replied, straightening in the couch. “You goin’ up?”

“Yeah.”

“Turn out the lights, yeah?”

Jasper looked across the room at Rocky then back at Layne. “All right, Dad.”

“’Night, Bud.”

“’Night.”

Jasper walked away, Blondie came forward and butted his knee with her nose so Layne bent to her, giving her head and neck a rubdown while the lights went out one by one. When they were in darkness outside of a light coming down the stairs, he pushed her off and she got the hint, jogging after Jasper up the stairs.

Layne put his elbows to his knees and turned his head to Rocky.

Pasta bake had been a hit. It was just hamburger meat, spaghetti sauce and penne mixed together, dumped into a dish, smothered in mozzarella and baked but it was still good. This was mainly because it was smothered in a ton of mozzarella about which Jasper had stated confidently, “Cheese makes everything awesome.”

They’d eaten in front of the TV watching sitcoms which Rocky had laughed through, once so hard she had to curl her arms around her stomach and lean forward, tears streaming from her eyes. They’d graduated to a gritty cop drama during which Rocky fell asleep, probably having had as much sleep as he did last night. Both Tripp and Jasper had noticed and Layne had given them looks to ignore it and keep quiet.

Then Layne had fallen asleep.

He looked at the time on the DVD player, just after eleven o’clock.

Then he looked back at Rocky.

Then he made a decision.

He walked to her and slid an arm behind her knees, one at her waist and he lifted her up. He figured she’d wake but her head fell heavy on his shoulder then slid forward so her forehead was pressed to his neck and he remembered then that he should have known she wouldn’t wake. If she was out, as in out out, Rocky slept like the dead.

And she didn’t wake until he bent to put her in his bed.

“Layne?” Her voice was groggy, her head came up and she glanced around.

Then her body went alert.

“What –?” she started, her voice sounding not groggy anymore.

“Shh, Roc,” he murmured, setting her seated on the side of his bed.

Her head tipped back to look at him and her palms went into the bed to push herself up. He quickly twisted to turn on the bedside light and just as quickly moved back to her, planting a fist in the bed on both sides of her hips, taking his face close to hers so she reared back.

“You sleep in a bed tonight,” he whispered and watched her eyes get wide and her lips part.

Then she whispered back, “I don’t think –”

“Your car’s in my drive,” he told her.

“So?” she asked.

“Imagination is a powerful thing, baby,” he repeated her words of earlier that night then before she could protest, he pushed away, went to the dresser, grabbed one of his tees and a pair of pajama bottoms and he went back to her. He dropped his tee in her lap and her head tipped down to look at it as he reached beyond her to nab a pillow.

Then he turned and walked from the room, going to the linen closet in the boys’ bathroom, he snagged a blanket, turned off the upstairs light and went downstairs to the couch. He tossed down the pillow and blanket, changed to his pajamas and settled into the couch.

He waited for her to come down in order to sneak out and he did this awhile.

She didn’t come down.

Then he laid there thinking of Rocky wearing his tee and sleeping in his bed.

Then he muttered, “Christ,” turned to his side and, after awhile, found sleep.

Chapter Six

Nepotism

Layne moved through his closet, pulling out a sweater to yank over his tee to wear to the game.

The last couple of weeks they’d had Indian Summer.

That morning, he’d discovered, Fall had hit and it had done it with a vengeance.