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.
“Yeah baby?” he asked back, not lifting his head from the menu and before she could say anything, he went on. “You’ve been here, what’s good? I hope the portions aren’t crap. I could eat an entire pan of Jas’s pasta bake.”
“Layne!” she repeated but Layne felt him before he said a word and Layne looked up and to the side to see Astley standing there. His hair was dark blonde, nearly brown, only hints of gray. His eyes were hazel. He was tall, straight and slim. Layne could tell, even under his expensive suit, the man was fit. But he wasn’t fit in a bulky, powerful way. He was fit in an active, healthy way.
“Fuck me,” Layne muttered like he was surprised but he was fighting a grin.
“Charming,” Astley replied, giving Layne a look to kill then his eyes sliced to Rocky and he greeted through thinned lips, “Rocky.”
“Jarrod,” she replied, her lips weren’t thin, they were soft, her face was still pale but with her makeup, her hair, that dress, even with her skin pale, she was a freaking knockout.
“It seems we’re practically dinner partners,” he remarked, edging a bit to the side to indicate his meaning and Layne turned his head to see Merry wasn’t wrong. Rocky’s double was sitting across from them. She didn’t have the blonde streaks in her hair and her hair wasn’t as long. She was definitely younger but the poise wasn’t there and he knew that even though she was sitting. She also didn’t have Rocky’s style. He could tell she had a great body but it was just on the wrong side of too toned and her tits were fake. He knew the last because she was wearing a dress that barely covered them.
Definitely didn’t have Rocky’s style.
The minute their eyes turned her way, hers shot down to her plate.
“Perhaps you can ask the hostess to seat you at a different table?” Astley suggested and Layne looked up at him to see the man’s gaze turned his way.
Then he twisted in his seat, looked at the packed restaurant and back to Astley. “I’m not thinkin’ that’s gonna work, big guy.”
“I’m certain something will open up,” Astley pressed.
Layne looked back at Astley’s table to see his woman, or, more accurately, his girl peeking at them but she again turned her eyes away when she caught his.
He looked back at Astley. “I’m not feelin’ in the mood to wait.”
“Layne, maybe we can –” Rocky started and he cut his eyes to her and she stopped.
“Look at their table, sweetcheeks. They’ve already been served. They’ll be gone soon and we’re all adults. It’ll be all right.”
“I think both Rocky and Marissa would be more comfortable –” Astley began but Layne shoved out of his side of the booth and stood, looking down the three inches he had on Astley.
Then he said, “I think Rocky would be more comfortable if you went back to your table and let us enjoy our dinner.”
“Layne –” Rocky whispered.
“Sit down,” Astley ordered, the pompous ass dick.
“Go back to your table,” Layne returned.
“This is ridiculous!” Astley snapped. “We can hardly –”
“You might not be able to eat next to a good woman you fucked over but we’ll be fine if you sit… your ass… down at your table.”
Astley glared up at him and Layne held his glare and counted. It took four beats for Astley to give up and turn to Rocky.
“As our attorneys are both enjoying their weekends then I’ll have to inform you here that the house will not be vacant tomorrow for you to get your things. I suggest you call your lawyers and they can make arrangements for an alternate date.”
Rocky’s face got even paler and her eyes shot to Layne.
That fucking dick.
“That’s okay,” Layne stated, sitting back down. “We’ll come over while you’re there.”
Rocky’s eyes bugged out of her head.
Layne grabbed his napkin and put it on his lap.
“I’m afraid that doesn’t work for me,” Astley replied.
Layne kept his gaze steady on Rocky. “Your name on the deed?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
He looked at Astley. “Then she doesn’t need your permission to go to her own house. If it doesn’t work for you, tough. We’ll be there at ten o’clock.”
“You are not welcome in my home,” he clipped.
“Well, lucky for me, my woman half owns your home and I’m sure she’ll welcome me.” His eyes went to Rocky. “Won’t you, sweetcheeks?”
Slowly, Rocky closed her eyes.
Astley spoke and when he did it, he did it quietly, his tone had changed, something threaded through it, something that struck Layne as wrong but he couldn’t figure out what it was and Layne looked up to see he was addressing Rocky.
“You know what this is, Rocky. You know.” He shook his head and finished, “I didn’t expect this from you.”
Then he turned and walked back to his booth and while he was doing it, he stopped a waiter and said, “We’re leaving early. Bring our check to the hostess station.”
Astley pulled his girl out of the booth and Layne looked back to Rocky who had her elbow on the table, her fingers lightly touching her lips, her eyes were unfocused and pointed into the restaurant.
“Roc?” he called, her gaze shifted to him and it was troubled. He leaned forward, reaching out, he grabbed her wrist, pulling her arm down to the table to hold her hand. Then he whispered, “They’re leaving. It’ll be fine.”
“You knew,” she whispered back.
He didn’t respond.
“You knew,” she repeated. “You orchestrated this.”
Layne held her eyes and kept his mouth shut.
She looked over his shoulder and pulled her hand from his as a waiter appeared with their drinks. Layne looked to see Astley and his girl were gone.
“Have you had time to look over the menu?” the waiter asked after he set the drinks down. “I’m happy to answer any questions.”
“Give us a minute,” Layne ordered.
The waiter dipped his head, his hands pressed together in front of him like he was praying and he murmured, “Certainly.”
Fucking hell, this place was pretentious.
The waiter took off and Layne looked at Rocky.
“Roc –”
She started nodding and he didn’t know why.
Then she said, “This is okay. This is fine.” She straightened her shoulders and asked in a falsely bright voice, “It had to happen sooner or later, right?”
“Baby –”
He stopped talking because now she was shaking her head.
Then she said, “No, no, you’re right. You were right to do this. You should be in control. It shouldn’t be a surprise. Not like with Gabrielle. This is better. It was shorter and there were a lot less witnesses.”
“He needs to get some of his own back,” Layne told her and she started nodding again.
“Yes, of course. You’re right about that too. And you were right not to tell me. I wouldn’t have come.”
He sat back in his seat and took a sip of his beer, his eyes on her watching her eyes move anywhere but to him.
He put his beer down and asked, “So, if I’m right, why do I feel like I’m standin’ on a sidewalk lookin’ at your bloody mangled bod
y after I shoved you under a bus?”
Finally, her eyes darted to him. She stared at him a second before her face cracked and her mouth twitched up into a smile.
“I’m fine,” she said softly. “Seriously, you did the right thing. It’s over.”
“It isn’t,” he contradicted her. “We gotta go over there tomorrow.”
“No, I’ll do that. I don’t have much to pick up. Just some things I didn’t get before because… well, I didn’t have a place so I didn’t have anywhere to put them. It won’t take me long.”
“No way in hell I’m lettin’ you go over there with him and his girl there, Roc.”
“Honestly, Layne, it won’t take long.”
“Good, then with two of us, it’ll take half the time.”
She stared at him and Layne could tell she was thinking.
Then she decided, “I’ll take Merry.”
“Merry’s at the lake this weekend.”
“Oh right, I forgot.” She chewed her lip then said, “Dad’ll help.”
“Your Dad can’t lift boxes.”
“I’ll make them light.”
“Sweetcheeks, it’s been rainin’ three days and the rain isn’t supposed to clear until Wednesday. Your Dad probably isn’t feelin’ great about now.”
He knew he had her when her eyes started to flash.
“I’ll take Josie then,” she was beginning to sound desperate.
“I’m going.”
“Layne –”
Layne leaned forward. “Why are you so desperate for me not to go?” She opened her mouth to speak but he asked another question. “And what was his parting shot all about?”
She closed her mouth with a snap and her eyes scanned the ceiling and if she started whistling a tune, he wouldn’t have been surprised.
He leaned in further. “Sweetcheeks, you know I’m stubborn and you know I’ll get what I want and I’ll go at it all night until I get it, so spill. What’s goin’ on?”
She glared at him.
Then she said, “He knows about you.”
Layne nodded. “Yes, I would guess if you spent ten years livin’ with a guy you’d share history. So?” Her eyes shifted over his shoulder. “Rocky,” he warned.
Her eyes shifted back.
“Let’s just say you’re a hard act to follow.”
Fuck.
Bullet to the gut. Agony.
Layne sat back and changed his mind. “Maybe we should stop talkin’ about this.”
“Good idea,” Rocky agreed instantly, picking up her menu and snapping it open. “So… the steaks are good here but you have to get a sauce on top. They’re killer. They turn the steaks into heaven but in meat form. Béarnaise is good. They also do a pepper sauce that is very tasty but the béarnaise is way better. And get the sautéed potatoes. They rock. They sauté them in onions, brilliant. Oh! And I had this seared tuna here once. I swear, it melted on my tongue…”
Layne watched her while she blathered and he really didn’t want to think it but he couldn’t help but think, even in that getup with her hair around her face, looking glamorous, she was still downright, fucking cute.
* * * * *
They were in the truck on the way home and Layne was contemplating the fact that Rocky was right. The béarnaise sauce was really good. As were the sautéed potatoes.
The best part, however, was watching Rocky eat a pile of custard-filled, hot fudge-topped profiteroles. He could swear, after the third bite, she was going to have an orgasm and, watching her, he nearly had one.
He glanced at her to see she was staring out the side window and it came to him that he was wrong. The best part was sitting across from a Rocky wearing that dress, her hair down, after she had recovered from the exchange with Astley, was into her second glass of wine and had relaxed. Even with her behind her shields and with his shields up, that didn’t make her any less interesting, amusing, exciting and, especially, appealing.
“Layne?” she called into the silent cab.
“Yeah, Roc,” he answered.
“Thank you,” she said.
“For what?” he asked.
He heard the material of her coat slide against the seat as she turned to him. “I know this is awkward, and weird, and… well, awkward. And I know because of my crazy scheme I kind of pushed you into this whole… um, situation. But you’re being really nice and you definitely didn’t have to go out of your way to arrange that, uh… tête á tête with Jarrod and what you said to him was nice, though, obviously, not nice for him but, I mean, it was nice about me.” She paused, sucked in a breath then continued. “You know, being a good woman he fucked over and all and –”
He cut her off. “Roc?”
“What?”
“You’re welcome.”
She went silent before she whispered, “Thanks for, um… you’re welcoming me.”
He laughed low.
Jesus she was a nut.
And absolutely no less appealing with her shields up.
He turned into his development and luckily, after living there for over a year, found his house without getting lost.
There was a car on the street parked between his house and the house next door and he hoped to God for the owner’s sake that the HOA Nazis weren’t out patrolling or someone would receive a testy letter tomorrow.
He hit the garage door opener, slid up the drive beside Rocky’s Merc and parked in the garage wondering if she drank whisky. He had whisky and beer in the house and it would be good to sit and end the night with Rocky and a glass of whisky. It wouldn’t be smart, but it would be good.
The Charger’s spot was empty. The boys were back at his house for the week but out that day and night, Jasper with friends during the day and on a date with Keira that evening. Tripp was hanging with some buds, having spent the night after the game at one of their houses, he was supposed to spend the day jacking around, going to the mall and being home that evening after they went to a movie.
He switched off the ignition and Rocky had jumped down and rounded the hood by the time he joined her. He opened the door and leaned forward, holding it for her to precede him and then he walked by her through the utility room and did the same for the kitchen door.
When they both got into the kitchen he saw the house was dark and he stopped thinking about how to convince Rocky to stay and have a drink. It was early, not even eleven. Tripp was supposed to be home by ten but his curfew wasn’t until midnight. Plans may have changed but, if they did, he should have called.
Layne started to reach to switch on the light when they went on, bright and blazing, and he heard shouted, “Surprise, baby!”
Then he looked beyond a rock solid Raquel to see Melody standing in his kitchen wearing high-heeled, black platform sandals and see-through, black underwear.
Fuck!
“Ohmigod!” Melody shouted, covering herself with her arms.
“Melody, Christ!” Layne clipped, moving quickly around Rocky and in front of her to block Melody from view. “What the fuck!”
“I… ohmigod!” Melody cried, edging backward toward the couch in the living room.
“Fuck, woman, I got two teenaged boys living in this house and you’re practically fuckin’ naked! Jesus. How the hell did you get in here?”
“Tripp… Tripp let me in then he took off,” Melody answered, still edging back, she snatched up a robe off the back of the couch and started pulling it on.
“He took off?” Layne asked.
“He didn’t… he didn’t tell me you were…” Her eyes shot to Rocky who still hadn’t moved. “I told him I needed alone time with you. He called a friend and they… he didn’t tell me you were on a date.”
“No! No, that isn’t what this is,” Rocky put in and now Layne saw she was on the move, edging along the counter pressed against it as if she wanted the counter, cupboards and then the wall to absorb her. “I’m… I’ll be… you two just… I’ll be going.”
“Roc –” Layne started
and her head snapped toward him but her eyes didn’t meet his.
“No, that’s okay, Layne, I’ll just… just let myself out.” She was sliding across the fridge now and looking anywhere but Layne and Melody. “You two just… enjoy your evening. I’ll let myself out.”
“Rocky.” He moved toward her and she started moving quicker, rounding the fridge, she caught her heel on the lip that separated the tile from the wood and went crashing down, her hand slamming into the wood first, followed by her right hip and thigh.
“Fuck!” he hissed, moving swiftly toward her.
“Ohmigod! Are you okay?” Melody, now wearing her robe, shot forward too.
Rocky waved a hand at them, facing the floor, pushing up, the heavy curtain of her hair obscuring her features.
“I’m okay,” she whispered. “I’m good.”
Layne bent and put a hand on her hip and one on her bicep but she pulled it violently out of his grip.
“I’m good,” she whispered to the floor, pushing forward, dragging her body away from him, she gracefully got up, movements fluid, as only Raquel could do, and gained her feet.
“Did you hurt anything?” Melody asked as Rocky kept her head dipped, much like Tripp did after Cosgrove got through with him, and pulled her jacket together using only two fingers because she was doing this with the hand still clutching her purse.
“No, I’m okay.” She was in profile to Layne and she shook her hair back and lifted a hand that he saw was trembling, pulling back the hair on the opposite side to him and tucking it behind her ear. He could see she shot Melody a false smile. “See, just fine. I’ll go.”
“Roc –” he started, putting his hand on her arm again but her head turned, slow, the movement liquid, she tipped it back and he caught half a second of her eyes, the bottom edges brimming bright with tears, their depths filled with a pain so stark, his body froze and his chest tightened, squeezing out all his oxygen then she looked to the ground and turned abruptly, breaking contact with his hand.
“Have a good night!” she called and ran, her heels clicking on the wood, to the door.
Layne looked over his shoulder to Melody and growled, “Get dressed.”
Then he went after Rocky who was already out the door.
He caught her still opened car door as she folded herself in it, her hand shooting out to the handle and he pushed back as she pulled in.