Layne’s arms gave her a squeeze. “I’m sorry, honey.”
She shook her head. “Don’t be. You can’t guard against everything you say.”
“No.”
“Then it was the table.” She shook her head again. “Mom always made us eat at the table. Every night. I have trouble eating at a table.” Her eyes were intense on his. “It’s been hard, since she’s been gone, to sit at a table with family around. When we were together, I used to look at you, something about looking at you made me settle.”
Layne closed his eyes then opened them and wrapped his hand around her neck.
“I remember,” he told her.
“It made me feel safe.”
“Yeah?”
“I knew, you were around, you’d never let anything hurt me.”
“Baby.” His voice was hoarse and his arm at her back and hand at her neck gave her a tight squeeze.
“I’m scared a lot, Layne,” she admitted quietly. “So often, I got used to it. It lives with me. It’s in my skin.”
“It gets to you, if it’s dark.”
She nodded. “You help me beat it back.”
“Rocky –”
“Then and now.”
“Baby –”
“I don’t want to be scared anymore, Layne.”
His fingers slid into her hair and he pulled her face to his, touching his mouth to hers, then he let her move back an inch.
“We’ll see to that, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
His thumb swept her cheek but his eyes didn’t leave hers and then she dropped her head and rested her cheek to his chest, her arm wrapping around him.
“I ruined our dinner plans,” she whispered to his chest.
“We’ll do it next weekend.”
“The boys won’t be here,” she reminded him.
“Jasper’s got a car, they can be wherever they wanna be. They’ll wanna be here.”
“Gabrielle won’t like that.”
“Do I give a fuck?”
A startled giggle escaped her then she held on tighter.
Then she muttered, “I’m hungry.”
“What you want, baby?”
She lifted her head. “Shanghai Salon?”
His brows went up. “Sesame chicken?”
Her mouth got soft and her lids lowered. “You remembered.”
“How many times do I have to tell you, sweetcheeks? I remember everything.”
“Thank you, Layne.”
“For what?”
“For loving me like you do.”
His arms tightened around her and they did it automatically.
“Christ, Roc,” he muttered.
“Mom would have liked you too.”
“Baby, stop it.”
“Because you love me like you do.”
“Rocky –”
“And ‘cause you’re hot.”
He gave a startled bark of laughter and stared at her.
“Because I’m hot?”
“She used to point out all the cute boys to me. Say things like, ‘Rocky, look at him. He’s the perfect height for you.’ and ‘Rocky, he’s cute, but he’s blond. Blond boys can be cute but they’ll always be cute. Cute dark boys will turn gorgeous.’ Stuff like that.”
He’d never heard her talk about her mother that way. Never. He liked it.
“You’re dark,” she went on.
“Yeah, sweetcheeks, seen myself in the mirror.”
She smiled at him. “And you’re hot. Mom had a good eye for cute guys. Ergo, she’d like you.”
“Ergo?” he teased.
“Shut up,” she whispered.
He grinned at her. Then his arms tightened in preparation.
Then he shouted, “Tripp!”
Rocky went still in his arms.
The door opened almost instantaneously and Tripp was there which meant his boy was doing sentry duty close. When he arrived, Rocky’s body jerked.
“Yeah Dad?” he asked then his eyes slid to Rocky. “Hey Roc,” he said casually.
“Uh… hey Tripp.”
“You’re awake, cool, can we eat?” Tripp asked.
“Shanghai Salon. Roc wants sesame chicken. I want Kung Pao shrimp. Get your brother, Gram and Devin’s orders. Call it in. Delivery,” Layne ordered.
“Cool!” Tripp shouted then his torso twisted and he yelled, “Jas! We’re havin’ Chinese.”
“Awesome!” They heard Jasper’s voice shout from far away.
“Chinese!” Vera shouted, also from far away. “I’ll make tuna casserole.”
“No way, Gram, we want Chinese!” Tripp yelled, turning from the door, he left it ajar and jogged away.
“I want lemon chicken, Tripp-o-matic,” Jasper shouted.
Rocky settled into him, cheek back to his chest, arm tight around him.
“Okay, well, it appears they’re not traumatized by my drama.”
“No, sweetcheeks, but expect a lot of attention for awhile. Tripp will likely talk your ear off and Jasper will stick to you like glue.”
Her head came up. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“Why?”
“Because they care, because they want to know you’re all right and because that’s their way of making that so.”
She lifted a hand to rest on his neck. “It’s scary how much they’re like you.”
“I talk your ear off?”
“No, you want to make sure I’m all right and find a way to make it so.”
Layne smiled at her.
Rocky kept talking. “Though, I have to ask, where did Tripp get his blond hair?”
“Fuck knows.”
Her eyes unfocused and she said softly, “If he didn’t have your exact body and your intensity, I would swear Gabrielle stepped out on you.”
Layne started laughing, Roc’s eyes focused on him then her face flushed. “I don’t mean to intimate –”
“Baby,” Layne said through his chuckles, “Tripp’s my son and even if he wasn’t by blood, he’s still my son. That’s all there is to it.”
“He’s your son, Layne, I know it.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“Dad!” Tripp yelled from downstairs. “I need your wallet!”
“Mine’s in my purse on the counter, Tripp!” Rocky shouted back.
“You get Rocky’s wallet, Tripp, you’re grounded for a month. Come up here and get mine.” Layne shouted after Rocky.
Her eyes shot to him. “I can pay for dinner, Layne.”
“I know you can, you just aren’t.”
“Layne.”
“Rocky.”
“Layne.”
“Roc.”