Golden Trail (The 'Burg #3)(91)

Then he intentionally squeezed the breath out of her so she couldn’t get a shot in by rolling his bodyweight over her, getting out of bed on her side, lighting the lamp on the nightstand and aiming a grin at her lying on her back but up on one elbow, the other hand holding the covers to her chest, glaring at him before he walked out of the room to get her toothbrush.

When Layne hit the kitchen, he saw Devin sitting at a stool in his wife beater and boxer shorts, a mug of steaming coffee in his hand, his eyes on the News playing low on the TV. They cut to Layne when he appeared and they watched Layne walk to the toothbrush sitting on the island.

The toothbrush Jasper bought Rocky was white and pink. Yes, his son was sharp. As a tack.

Also on the island were two big, white baker’s boxes opened and stuffed full with Hilligoss donuts.

Layne stopped and looked at Devin. “Please tell me you put on your pants when you went to the bakery.”

“Of course, boy, it’s cold out there.”

Thank f**k.

Layne turned to the cupboard with the mugs, making a note to move them to the one over the coffeemaker and he did this in an effort not to think about why in the f**k Devin took off his pants when he arrived home from the bakery, when Devin went on, his tone mulish. “Calais is at the curb.”

“That’s good,” Layne returned, walking his mug to the coffeemaker. “’Cause Rocky’s gonna blow through here in about five minutes and she’s probably gonna take out the garage door when she goes and it’d be a cryin’ shame she damages the Calais, seein’ as you put so much effort into keepin’ it in pristine condition for twenty-five years.”

Without missing a beat, Dev muttered, “Better put my pants on then.”

Layne poured a cup of coffee, spooned in two sugars and was stirring it when he turned and saw Devin sauntering back to the island in wife beater and slacks.

“Remember a time when they left your room in the mornin’ with a smile on their face, boy, you must be losin’ your touch,” Devin remarked.

“Figure you’ll be in town for awhile, old man, it might be good to brace,” Layne advised, dropped the spoon on the counter and took a sip of joe.

Devin’s eyes locked on Layne’s. “We gonna have fireworks?”

Layne dropped his hand holding the mug but held Dev’s gaze. “How easy do you think it is for a man to talk a woman into takin’ a risk on dark and wild?”

“Lotta women not worth that effort,” Dev returned. “Though, the one you got on your hands, boy, it is and it is ‘cause it’s not gonna be easy at all and that means… kaboom!”

Layne walked to the toothbrush and tagged it, saying, “Like I said, brace.”

Then he turned and walked up the stairs and into his room. He found Rocky in the bathroom in her bra, her back to him, zipping up the back of her skirt.

“Toothbrush, sweetcheeks,” he said and she whirled, one arm going to her middle, one arm covering her br**sts but not before he saw her bra, too, was deep pink and made entirely of lace.

Christ.

“A moment of privacy, Layne,” she snapped, her eyes full of fire.

Her hair was back in a ponytail and Layne tossed the toothbrush on the bathroom counter, set his mug down and walked up to her. He reached around, wrapped his fist around her ponytail, tugged her head gently back and kissed her hard and closed-mouthed.

When he lifted his head he kept his hand at her ponytail so she couldn’t move.

Therefore, she had to fight her fight verbally. “What was that?” she hissed up at him and he grinned down at her.

“Hot piece of ass in my bathroom wearin’ nothin’ but a sexy bra and a tight skirt after she spent the night pinnin’ me down to the bed, I walk in on her, I’m gonna kiss her.” He gave her ponytail a playful tug. “Just keepin’ it real, sweetcheeks.”

“Don’t call me a piece of ass,” she snapped, definitely pissed.

“Baby,” he replied, not pissed at all.

“And will you stop calling me sweetcheeks?” she asked on a demand.

“No,” he answered.

She glared at him then stated, “I did not pin you down to the bed.”

“Rocky, you were all over me.”

“Was not.”

“You were.”

“Was not!” Her voice was rising.

“Why do you think you got the wakeup call you got, Roc?” he lied through his teeth. “Man wakes up with a woman wrapped around him, he acts on instinct.”

She tugged her hair from his hand and stepped back, forgetting she was only wearing a bra and skirt, she planted her hands on her hips.

“I see us sleeping together is not going to work,” she declared.

“I don’t know,” he grinned, “worked for me.”

She leaned back. “You do know, every cop on the Force thinks of me like a sister? It’s highly unlikely they’ll arrest me for assault and battery.”

Layne couldn’t take it anymore, he tipped back his head and laughed and, since he didn’t have to fight the urge, his arm shot out and hooked her around the waist, yanking her forward roughly so her body slammed into his, he tilted his head forward and shoved his face in her neck so he could laugh there.

“Layne,” she called, her hands on his abs pushing.