Golden Trail

He heard Devin chuckle and he looked to his friend, saw his eyes shining and Layne grinned at him.

“Got some homework to do, Dad,” Tripp informed him and Layne’s gaze went to his son.

“Do me a favor and do it down here,” Layne replied, Tripp’s eyes went in the direction of the stairs he couldn’t see from his place in the kitchen then they came back to his old man, he grinned then he nodded.

Layne headed up the stairs.

The light over the desk was on when he got there but Rocky was standing in the middle of the set up, her head moving slowly, her eyes taking in the exercise equipment. When he arrived, they shot to him and he knew something was up. Rocky was not happy.

Jesus, how long was he outside?

She glanced at the open double doors to his room then back at him.

“Private,” she said in a low voice, turned on her high heel and strutted into his room.

Layne stared after her a second then dropped his head and grinned at his boots while he followed her. He walked in, closed the door, wiped the grin off his face and looked at Raquel standing in his room.

Melody had come out after Layne had closed on the house. Melody had also chosen every stick of furniture and most of the homewares in that house. This included Layne’s bedroom furniture, burgundy sheets and dark gray comforter. This also meant all of it was expensive, masculine, in good taste and of excellent quality. She’d bought him (using his money) three sets of sheets because she knew his aversion to laundry. Layne hadn’t changed the sheets Rocky had slept in for over a week because it took that long for him not to smell her perfume. This could have been his imagination but he didn’t fucking care.

“Do you work out?” Rocky asked, taking him out of his thoughts and his eyes sliced to her because her tone was angry and, from her question, he couldn’t fathom why.

“Come again?” he asked.

She jabbed a finger at the doors behind him. “Do you work out?”

“Uh… yeah,” he answered.

She threw up both hands. “Layne, you got shot two months ago.”

It was then, he got it.

He took two steps into the room, cautiously saying, “Yeah, sweetcheeks, I remember, I was there.”

She crossed her arms on her chest. “You shouldn’t be working out.”

“Why not?” he asked.

She leaned toward him and hissed, “You were shot two months ago!”

Layne crossed his arms on his chest as well and replied softly, “Yeah, baby, I was shot, but it was over two months ago.”

“You aren’t recovered enough to work out,” she declared.

“You in on my doctor’s appointments?” Layne returned.

“No,” Rocky snapped then glared at him.

Layne studied her, wondering how to play this, especially knowing what he now knew about Raquel Merrick.

Then he asked quietly, “You called me up here to tell me I shouldn’t be working out?”

She kept glaring at him, trying to slip into a stare down but he started toward her and she dropped her head, turning it slightly to the side to look at the floor as well as hide from him.

He got close and put his hands to her hips.

“Baby, look at me,” he ordered gently, saw her chest expand and then, slowly, her eyes came to his. “I’m takin’ it easy, yeah? I’m okay and I’ll only get back to one hundred percent if I work on it. I’m not doin’ my normal routine, I’m takin’ it slow but steady and I’m bein’ smart. Swear.” She kept her eyes locked to his and he finished, “Now, tell me what’s really buggin’ you.”

She bit her lip then pulled from his hands and walked across the room to look out the window. Layne watched as she tucked behind her ear that fall of hair that never stayed secured in the holders, clips and pins at the back of her head and she stared into the dark night.

It took several seconds but she finally spoke to the window. “It isn’t my place to say, Layne, he’s not my son but I’m having second thoughts about this Tripp business.”

And that was when Layne knew it, seeing Rocky standing in his bedroom in her sexy getup and sexier high heels, her hair tucked behind her ear, her arms crossed on her chest, her concern for his son evident in her profile – Layne knew he was in love with her. Not only that, he’d never stopped loving her. Not once, not for a second, not for twenty-one years.

Fuck him.

It took a lot out of him but Layne stayed where he was, separated from her by ten feet in his bedroom.

“He’ll be fine, Roc,” Layne assured and her eyes went away from the window, coming to him, her neck twisting to do it.

“I don’t know. If this guy’s a predator…” She shook her head. “Tripp’s a fourteen year old boy,” she reminded him.

“He’s a smart kid,” Layne told her.

“I know, Layne.”

“He goin’ in with his eyes open, he knows this is important, he won’t jack it up and he won’t put himself in danger.”

Her brows shot up. “You sure about that?”

Finally, Layne allowed himself to walk to her. He got close but he didn’t touch her.

“I been gone awhile but me and Tripp, we’ve stayed close all that time. I know my kid and I know him better now, bein’ home. He’ll be fine, Rocky, and if I didn’t think he would, no way in hell I’d send him in there.”

She turned to him, her body giving a small jolt as she did it. “I didn’t mean to infer that you –”

“I know you didn’t.”

“I’m just worried,” she shared.

“I know you are,” he replied. “But I have faith in him and I’ll have his back, so will Jas. He’ll be fine.”

Layne watched her eyes get warm, her mouth go soft and fought the urge to touch her and, after she spoke again, he had to fight the urge to pick her up, throw her on his bed and cover her body with his.

“You’re a good Dad, Layne, those boys love you.”

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