Golden Trail (The 'Burg #3)(79)
“Finish in the bathroom, Pal then we’ll talk.”
Tripp and Jasper both eyed him then Tripp disappeared and Jasper plugged in the thing that electronically sucked shit up from tile and wood floors.
While his boys did this, Dev caught Rocky’s attention and they started chatting as Layne put away the bottles of booze and opened one of the reds. He poured her a glass, got himself a beer and then walked back to her to set her glass beside her workspace on the island, workspace she was clearing now that the gargantuan salad was done.
When her eyes went to the glass then lifted to him, he muttered, “Sorry, sweetcheeks, we don’t have any fancy glasses in the house.”
“That’s okay, they drink it like that in Italy,” she replied, reaching out to grab the small glass, she turned to Dev. “I’ve never been to Italy, of course, but that’s the way they drink it in movies set in Italy and I always thought that was cool.” She lifted her glass and reached toward Dev, finishing, “Welcome to the ‘burg, Devin.”
He clinked his bottle of beer against her glass, sucked back a pull and, after swallowing, said, “Dev, darlin’. Pretty girls get to call me Dev.”
She smiled at him. “Dev, then.”
“You got time tomorrow, you can give me a tour of the ‘burg,” Dev invited as if he already hadn’t scouted out the lay of the land.
“I’d love that but I’ve got to work,” Rocky replied. “But I’ll tell you that it’ll be worth your while to get up early, go to Hilligoss Bakery and get yourself a donut. I’ve never been to Italy, or anywhere else really, but I’d put down money on any donut from Hilligoss going up against anything in the world and winning.”
“I haven’t been to Italy either but I’ve been around and Roc isn’t lyin’,” Layne added.
“Your treat tomorrow then, boy,” Dev told him.
“Done in the bathroom!” Trip shouted, rounding the corner and running toward the utility room at the same time juggling an armload of bathroom cleaning stuff.
Layne looked to Jas to see he was also done and winding the cord up. He turned to the back counter, saw Rocky’s purse sitting by the coffeemaker, walked to it and dug through it until he found her keys.
Then he turned to Jasper as he heard Rocky start to say, “What are you –?”
“Jas,” he called over her, Jasper’s head came up and Layne tossed his son the keys which Jasper nabbed one-handed. “You pull the Charger out then pull Rocky’s Merc in the garage.”
“Layne –” Rocky began.
Layne talked over her. “Get Dev’s keys too, pull the Calais into the drive behind the Merc.”
“But –” Rocky tried again.
“You get Keira, you park behind the Suburban. Drop the door after you pull in the Merc,” Layne finished.
“Right Dad,” Jasper said, carried the sweeper to the utility room and disappeared as Tripp reappeared.
“Layne, you can’t –” Rocky started and Layne looked at her.
“HOA isn’t big on cars parked on the street overnight.”
“Over –” she began again, this time in a whisper.
“HOA?” Dev cut in, sounding disgusted. “Tanner Layne, the boy I proudly watched dodge bullets to enter a house filled with hostiles in order to grab a hostage, a rescue during which he took two boys out with only a half-filled clip in his gun, and he ran out without a nick on him carrying that hostage, is livin’ in a place with a home owners association?”
Layne heard Rocky suck in breath at the same time he heard Tripp shout, “You did that Dad?”
“Damn straight he did it, boy,” Devin growled at Tripp then his eyes cut to Layne. “A dog, an HOA and domestication, three things I did not think I’d ever see attached to you.”
“Things change, Dev,” Layne replied, acutely aware that, for some reason, Rocky was staring at him and she was not doing it the same way Tripp was.
“That sounds cool!” Tripp yelled. “Devin, who were the hostiles, where was this, when…?”
Layne looked to Rocky while Tripp fired out his questions and the minute he did, her eyes dropped, she turned so he had her profile and her hand lifted so she could take a sip of wine. But she couldn’t hide the fact that her face had paled or her hand was trembling.
“It wasn’t as dangerous as Dev makes it sound,” Layne lied to Tripp in an effort to reassure a visibly shaken Rocky.
It was. It was extremely dangerous and it was a hotshot, bullshit maneuver he pulled. He could have been killed and it could have got the hostage killed. The problem was, the hostage was an eight year old, dark-headed boy whose picture reminded him of Jasper. He’d been kidnapped and held hostage for three weeks and Dev had been hired to manage an extraction the Feds had botched – which meant two parts of the boy had been delivered to his parents, a finger and a toe – and Dev had taken Layne along as backup. It was a part miracle that Layne hadn’t been filled with bullets, part excellent cover from Devin. What Dev wasn’t sharing was that he didn’t watch proudly as Layne did this. What he did was lay into Layne approximately two seconds after Dev took down the last “hostile” and they secured the boy.
“We should wait until Jas gets back so he can hear the story too,” Tripp suggested and Layne tore his eyes from Rocky, who, at this point, had turned her back to him and he looked at his son while walking to Rocky, fitting his front again against her back and leaning both of their bodies into his palm at the edge of the counter.