Golden Trail (The 'Burg #3)(92)
“Give me a second, sweetcheeks, I’m tryin’ not to bust a gut here.”
“Layne!” she shouted.
His head came up and he smiled down at her. Then he kept smiling down at her as he wrapped his other arm around her shoulder blades and pulled her closer, trapping her hands between them.
Then he dipped his face close to hers and he whispered, “You’re cute as hell when you get pissed. You always were cute as hell when you got pissed. I used to piss you off just to see you get pissed, I liked it so much.”
Her hands stopped pushing and her lips parted as the fire died out of her eyes and she gazed up at him with that intensity in her eyes.
He dropped his head so his forehead was resting against hers. “And, baby, I don’t like it any less now,” he whispered.
He heard her suck in a soft breath but he ignored it, touched his mouth to hers and let her go.
Turning, he nabbed his coffee mug and didn’t look at her as he walked out of the room, saying, “Dev went to Hilligoss. There’s two dozen donuts downstairs. You better get down there before the boys do, sweetcheeks, or you’re gonna be disappointed.”
Then he walked out of the room.
Chapter Thirteen
My Kind of Partner
The security beep sounded and Layne, sitting at his desk in his office, turned to look at the monitor.
Colt was walking up the steps.
Layne glanced at his watch and clenched his jaw. He was late. He was supposed to go over to Rocky’s for a quick dinner before they went to the boys’ game. But that afternoon a bitter wind started to whip through the ‘burg and he needed to go home and get a sweater. To get to Rocky’s, he should have left ten minutes ago. To get home and then get to Rocky’s, he should have left twenty minutes ago.
He heard the front office door open and close and he reached out to the desk to pick up his cell. He started to flip it open when Colt’s tall frame filled the doorway and his thumb on his phone stopped when he saw Colt’s expression.
“Have a minute?” Colt asked.
“I didn’t until I saw your face,” Layne answered.
Colt walked in, sat down in one of the two chairs facing Layne’s desk and didn’t say a word or take his eyes from Layne.
“Give me a second, I gotta call Rocky. I’m already late for dinner,” Layne told him and Colt nodded.
Layne flipped open the phone and scrolled down to Raquel’s number as he watched Colt lean forward and tag a yellow legal pad from Layne’s desk then he nabbed a pen. He sat back and started writing on the pad while Layne put the phone to his ear.
It rang once then, “Hey Layne!”
Layne blinked and his eyes unfocused so much Colt was there but he’d disappeared.
She sounded excited and happy, excited and happy to hear from him.
It had been two days since Keira, pasta bake and Rocky spending the night in his bed.
After that, Rocky had put her shields up but it wasn’t the same game as she’d been playing. It was friendlier, more open but she was still on guard. He let her have that play and backed off, not because he intended actually to back off but because he wanted to soften her up, get her guard down, take her off-balance before he made his next play.
Not to mention, he had to wait until she was done with her f**king period.
They’d slept together both nights in his bed. Both nights she started with her back to him and both nights he’d woken with her pinning him to the bed. Each morning, Layne woke before Rocky, waited until she did and also waited while she slid carefully away and exited the bed. Layne never let on that he was awake before her and Rocky never spoke of it. He didn’t know if she knew he was awake and she didn’t share.
They’d also had dinner at his house both nights. The first night was Wednesday before the Youth Group meeting and when the boys were gone Rocky had been as jumpy as a cat waiting for Tripp and Jasper to get home. Luckily, Devin was there and entertained her with his own particular blend of cantankerous, flirtatious and hilarious. When the boys got home, though, Raquel interrogated them like she’d been trained by the CIA. Even so, they didn’t have much, it was a Church Youth Group and the boys were getting the lay of the land. But Jasper decided to go to the Saturday afternoon meeting as well before he left Tripp to it. They didn’t try to bag anything with a print. The other kids were surprised to see them there, the Layne boys weren’t Church Youth Group kind of guys, their turning up caused a minor sensation and his sons, rightly, didn’t make any rash moves.
The second night was Thursday and, after dinner, he made Rocky stretch out on the couch with him and watch TV while Tripp took one armchair, Devin the other and Jasper talked on the phone with Keira upstairs while he was supposed to be doing his homework. Rocky didn’t like it but she didn’t fight it, likely because Tripp and Devin were there. She fell asleep with her back to the couch, her cheek to his chest, her arm resting on his abs and her legs tangled with his. And just like eighteen years ago, when he moved after Letterman, she woke, groggy, and he helped her stumble up the stairs, she disappeared in the walk-in closet while he gave her time to change, came out wearing his tee, collapsed in bed and was out in seconds.
But for two days she didn’t give him an in and she didn’t let her guard down for him to knock her off-balance. She played the part but every word, look and step she executed with extreme caution.