“No, it isn’t,” he agreed. “And you’re wedging yourself close to Rutledge, you got an apartment to set up and if Cosgrove is pissed about the complaints and not afraid to take payback outta my boys during practice, then he won’t be afraid of fuckin’ with the woman he thinks is mine. Summin’ up, sweetcheeks, I’ll repeat, we got enough on our plate.”
She sighed, he waited, she didn’t speak, he glanced at her to see she was looking out the side window, she sighed again, this time heavier.
Then she whispered, “All right.”
Well thank Christ for that.
Layne drove in silence and Rocky followed his lead. They’d had no more heart-to-hearts after the night of pizza and beer. Raquel didn’t share with him about work and told him only what he needed to know about her life. She did this, he reckoned, because this was what he was doing.
However, as they drove, the scent of her perfume filled his cab and the sight of her legs filled his vision. The second was because his eyes were drawn to them no matter how he tried to keep them on the road. It was only filling his mind with visions of those legs bloody and lifeless if he crashed that made him stop.
They were on the Circle when she asked, “Tell me again why we’re all gussied up and going out on the town?”
“Point of this, you and me, is to be seen,” he reminded her. “We haven’t been doin’ much of that.”
“Yes, Layne.” He could tell by the sound of her voice she was looking at him. “But shouldn’t we be seen in the ‘burg?”
“Lots of people need to see and lots of places to be seen.”
“Is there something you’re not telling me?”
Yes, there was something he wasn’t telling her. She knew they were going to Swank’s but had no idea Astley was there and he wasn’t going to tell her now.
“Just trust me, Roc, I know what I’m doin’.”
There was a beat of silence then another sigh then another, “All right.”
He turned off the Circle, found Swank’s and stopped out front, rounded the hood and handed the keys to the valet, taking a ticket. Rocky waited for him, he put a hand in the small of her back and led her into the restaurant.
The hostess smiled warmly at him and before they even made it to her station, where he could, say, give his name, she announced, “Your table’s all ready.” Rocky looked at her in surprise then looked at Layne but the hostess was rounding the station and motioning with an arm to a man standing there. “Your coat.”
Layne took Rocky’s coat from her and got a good look at the full back of her dress, or, more appropriately, the lack of it. He was right. Completely bare. Straight down to the top of her ass. Fuck.
She unwrapped her scarf, he took it and handed them off to the man waiting. The man gave Layne another slip of paper to go with the one from the valet, Layne tucked it in his inside jacket pocket and moved behind Rocky as she followed the hostess who was carrying menus.
Layne knew the instant she saw him because she stopped dead and he almost ran into her. He didn’t hesitate and put his hand on the skin at the small of her back and pushed her forward.
“Layne –” she started, walking forward because he was pushing her at the same time she was pressing back.
“Let’s get to the table, sweetcheeks, I’m fuckin’ starved.”
He noted as he spoke that the hostess had done well. They were in an alcove that held only two two-top booths, either side, separated by about five feet. Astley and some brunette with her back to the restaurant on one side. An empty booth on the other. Fucking perfect.
“Layne –” Rocky said again, turning to him.
They’d made it to the area that separated the booths and he hooked an arm around her neck and pulled her into his side. She tipped her head back to look at him, her face was pale and her eyes were huge.
“I learned early, baby, not to make you wait to get fed.” He touched his mouth to hers. “Do me the same courtesy, yeah?” he asked then looked at the hostess and announced, “My baby likes her food.”
“Layne –” Rocky repeated, her body tight as a bow about to snap and the alcove was thick with tension and not just Rocky’s.
“Sit, sweetcheeks.” He maneuvered her to the seat facing the restaurant which was what he’d do in normal circumstances. The woman should always have the best seat and it was better facing the restaurant and being able to see the activity than having your back to the room. He noticed that Astley didn’t afford that consideration to his woman but Layne did it for Rocky even though the better strategic position was to have his back to the wall, Rocky facing him, which meant Astley would find it difficult not to look at her for, if he turned his head, she’d be in his line of sight.
He pushed her down in her side of the narrow booth thinking, for the first time, he was glad she was wearing that dress. No man seeing Rocky in that dress could be unaffected by it. Layne wasn’t the only proof of that. Every man she passed while walking through the restaurant stared at her while she did it.
He sat down as Rocky leaned forward and hissed, “Layne, listen to –”
He tilted his head back and said to the hostess, “Can you help me out and get me a beer?”
“Absolutely,” she replied on a smile, opening a menu and handing it to Rocky who took it automatically. “We have a wide selection. Would you like to see a list?”
“Nope.” He smiled at her. “You pick. Only two requirements. American and cold.”
She nodded, still smiling, handed him his open menu and looked to Rocky. “Do you know what you’d like to drink?”
“Montepulciano,” she said instantly. “A large one.”
Layne looked down at his menu and grinned.
The hostess took off.
“Layne!” she snapped, her voice bordering on shrill.