“Want your mouth on mine, honey, but we’re not done talkin’,” he murmured.
“I don’t like the look on your face,” she replied, losing her look, that look he liked so much and Layne would be seriously fucking happy when all this shit was over and life was just life.
So he didn’t waste time, wasting time would mean a delay in getting to the good part of the evening and he didn’t want that for him or for Roc.
He’d briefed her about the day’s events, all except his chat with her brother, but he still had a few things he needed to make clear. So he set about making them clear.
“We got a lot done today. Devin, Ryker and me are gonna be takin’ turns listenin’ to the bugs. We know who she is and Dev’s got prints from the apartment that an independent lab is runnin’, we’ll have results tomorrow, so we’ll know who he is and hopefully get confirmation on her. We know who’s pocket Rutledge his in. This means it’s gonna get hotter. I told Jasper and I’ll tell you. You keep sharp. You stay smart. You don’t talk to Josie, Violet, Feb, anyone about this shit. You lock your doors when you’re in your car and you drive with your eyes on your mirrors. You see the same car more than once, you call me immediately. Tomorrow, I take you to the office and get you a panic button and you carry that with you everywhere. You don’t go anywhere unless someone knows you’re goin’, where you’re goin’ and when you’re expected to get there. You don’t sleep alone. I’m not home, you stay awake. I’m not in this apartment; you’re not in this apartment. Those vultures live close and my security system at home is solid, they still haven’t fixed this one.”
“But, the girls are coming over tomorrow to –”
“Yeah, and I’ll leave when they get here and come back before they’re gone. Colt’s wife and Cal’s wife will both be here. Someone might be dumb enough to fuck with you, and, baby, that’s the truth even if I can see it freaks you out, but no one would be dumb enough to fuck with the three of you.”
He stopped speaking and she didn’t say anything, just held his eyes so his arms gave her a squeeze.
“You get all that?” he asked.
Rocky nodded.
“You freaked?” he went on.
Rocky kept nodding.
“You think I’d ever let anything hurt you?”
Rocky stopped nodding, her mouth got soft, her lids lowered and she shook her head.
“All right, baby,” he whispered, his hand travelling up her back, her neck to cup her head. “I’m gonna clean this shit up,” he told her quietly, tipping his head to the table. “You go upstairs and get ready because I’m hungry.”
“Layne,” she breathed, her tits pressing deeper into his chest and his cock started getting hard.
“Go get ready for me,” he growled.
“I have to ask you something first,” she said, her hands moving up his neck, her fingers sliding into his hair and curling around at the back.
“Yeah?” he prompted when she said no more.
“That night, after that first game we went to together, do you remember?”
“It was only a month ago, sweetcheeks.”
“So you remember,” she pushed.
“Yeah, Roc,” his arms tightened, “I remember every second.”
She smiled, she’d liked that night but she liked that he liked it too then she shared, “I didn’t want you to leave.”
“I know.”
Rocky kept smiling and she kept sharing, “Before Merry came, I was going to make a move on you.”
Layne smiled back. “Yeah, I know.”
Her smile got even brighter before her face went strange, uncertain and she started, “Would you have… um,” she pulled in a breath, “caught my move or deflected it?”
Layne felt his smile fading and he answered honestly, “I don’t know, baby.”
She nodded, her eyes slid away and he used his hand on her head to bring her attention back to him.
“It didn’t happen and I don’t know what I would have done if it did, but I do know that it would have killed to turn you down.” She studied his face and he repeated, “It would have killed, Rocky. I wanted you to make that move and even thinkin’ then that we’d never again be where we are right now, I wanted you and I wanted you to want me.”
One of her hands came out of his hair to cup his jaw.
Then she said, “You know, one of the reasons I fell in love with you was because you were always honest. With everyone, including me. I loved that. It made me feel safe. I still love that about you, especially knowing it takes courage to be honest. Your courage, I love that about you too.”
And he loved her words, fucking loved every one of them but what he didn’t love was what they might mean.
And he had to know what they might mean.
“In your life, was someone not honest with you?”
She pulled back an inch and her hand dropped to his chest. “What?”
“What you said made me think that maybe you meant that it was refreshing, someone being honest because you had someone not honest in your life.”
Her eyes drifted over his shoulder but she wasn’t hiding from him, she was thinking.
Still, he ordered, “Roc, eyes on me,” and her eyes came back.
“I don’t know,” she replied. “I don’t think so but…” She trailed off, her face going unfocused, she was still thinking.
Fuck.
He knew, looking at her, he was standing in a field full of mines, he’d put himself there, and now he had to find a way to get the fuck out or purposely jump on a mine which might cause damage but do it with the hope his body didn’t blow to smithereens taking Rocky with it.
“Sweetcheeks,” Layne called and she focused on him. “Did your Dad ever talk to you about the facts of life?”
A startled giggle erupted out of her and she asked, “What?”
“Sex. How men’s bodies work. How women’s bodies work, that kinda shit?”
“I learned most of that in school, Layne.” She was still smiling.
“So he didn’t,” Layne surmised.
“Well, no, not exactly. He did say when I told him you asked me out, and he knew who you were and how old you were, and after we fought when he said I was not going out with you and I told him I was, that if you laid a hand on me, he’d rip your heart out. After he cut your hands off, that is. But, other than that, he pretty much steered clear of the facts of life.”
Layne had heard that story, not only from Rocky but also from Dave and Merry. After they started living together, it was a favorite tale for the three of them to cackle over.
It was also not where he was leading her.
“So, he left you to it,” Layne stated.
Rocky cocked her head to the side. “Left me to it?”
“To learn that shit yourself.”
“Well,” she whispered as her hand started to fiddle with the collar of his shirt. “I did, relatively young, find myself a good teacher.”
Automatically, Layne’s arms gave her a squeeze but he stayed on target. “What about your period?”
Her eyes shot to his and her fingers arrested mid-fiddle. “What?”
“Who taught you about that?”
Her body started to tense and edge away so his arms got tighter, Rocky read his message and gave up.
“Who?” he pushed.
“I learned that in Sex Education in Health class in junior high,” she answered.
“When did you start your period?” Layne asked.
For some reason, her eyes saturated with fear, Layne braced and she asked back, “Why are we talking about this?”
“I wanna know everything about you,” he answered, it was lame but he hoped it would get them where they needed to go.
“Well, I don’t remember,” she lied, every girl remembered.
“Was it before your Mom died or after?”
Her body locked.
Fuck.
“Baby, was it before your Mom died or after?”
“I don’t get why you want to know,” she whispered.
“Tell me, Rocky, was it before your Mom died or after?”
“Who cares?” Her voice was pitching higher and the fear was stark on her face.
Fuck!
“Why won’t you answer?” he asked gently, pushing carefully but unfortunately not treading cautiously.
“Because I don’t get why you care,” she answered. “And anyway, it’s private.”
“Nothing is private between you and me.”
“That’s private,” she returned.
“It isn’t.”
“It is.”
“Baby, I’ve had my mouth down there, I know you there, better than you know you there. I know how you taste, how you feel, how you look –”
“Stop it,” she whispered.
“Why?” he asked.
She shook her head, both her hands going to his chest and she tried to push away. Layne locked his arms, trapping her torso just as he shifted and threw a leg over hers, trapping her lower limbs.
“Why?” he repeated. “Why do you want me to stop?”
She looked across the room still putting steady pressure on his chest that fear on her face.
So Layne called up the courage she loved in order to explore something that had been festering insidiously in his brain since the secrets started and he asked, “Baby, what happened that night?”
“Layne, let go.”
“Did Carson Fisher get to you?”
Her eyes cut to his and Layne’s chest seized at the look of terror on her face as she started fighting him.
Fuck. Fuck. Jesus, fuck, no.
“Did he get to you?” Layne pushed even though he really didn’t want to know, he had to know but more importantly, Rocky had to face it.
“Let me go,” she whispered.
“You didn’t tell the cops, it’s not in the report. I pulled it and I read it. But you told your brother and he told your Dad. He got to you, didn’t he? He got to you and he hurt you.”
It was then, she heaved at the same time she let out a grunt and made it to her feet. Layne was up right after her, he caught her at the waist before she could run and he turned her into his arms. She pulled back at the same time she pushed at his chest with her hands.
“Layne!” she shouted, “Let me go!”
“You can tell me, baby, honest to God, you can tell me. It changes nothing. Not one fuckin’ thing.”
“No!” she yelled. “No! He didn’t get to me. Do you think my mother would ever let him get to me? No! I didn’t even see him.”
“Swear it,” Layne pushed.
“I swear,” she hissed. “And I started my period after Mom died. The week after Mom died. Dad was in the hospital and I couldn’t ask Merry so Gram took me to the grocery store and she helped me pick what I needed and she was sweet about it but I didn’t want her there. I wanted Mom there. I could talk to Mom about that shit. Mom would have known what to do, what to say. The cramps hurt so goddamned much and I bled a lot, it lasted a day. It scared the fucking shit out of me. I didn’t want a lifetime of that. Gram tried but she wasn’t Mom. She’d never be Mom. I couldn’t talk to her about it, ask her questions. I couldn’t talk to anyone about it except my Mom and she was dead. Until I was thirty, my periods were the worst. They made me feel like shit, they brought on a lot of pain and I bled out fast. I hated them so much I dreaded them. They’re still not my favorite things to have nor are they my favorite things to talk about. But there you go. The story of my fertility. Happy?”
“Yes,” Layne replied honestly, her body jerked with surprise at his answer then went still in his arms.
“Yes?” she asked.
He dipped his chin and put his face close to hers. “I’m a guy, a guy who grew up without a Dad. Shit happens to you, you want someone to talk about it with. So, I get what you’re sayin’ more than pretty much anyone would get what you’re sayin’. You needed your Mom and she died the week before you needed her. That would suck, baby. What I need you to know is, growin’ up without a Dad, I get it and that means you can talk about it with me.”
She stared him in the eye for long moments before her body relaxed and she whispered, “Layne.”
“You don’t have to hide anything or be embarrassed about anything, not with me. Yeah?” Layne stated.
“Yeah.” She was still whispering.
Layne took in a breath. Then he let it out.
Then he realized he’d made it through the minefield without getting blown to pieces, Rocky was safe and in one piece in his arms and he relaxed.
When he did, he noticed Rocky watching him with a look he couldn’t read on her face.
“You okay, baby?” he asked.
“I don’t really need to process my period anymore, Layne,” she said softly. “I’m kind of used to it by now.”
“You get embarrassed,” he told her honestly.
“I lived with two men, one of them a teenager, they avoided any of my period paraphernalia like the plague. And, newsflash, sweetheart,” she put her hand to his jaw, “you’re also a man.”
“Yeah,” Layne smiled, “but I don’t have any hang ups about that shit. I grew up alone in a house with a woman.”
Her mouth got soft.
“And I just want you to know you’re safe with me, always safe with me, with anything,” he told her.
Her lids lowered but not to half-mast, they closed and when they opened, her face was openly troubled.
“You’re worried I’m going to leave you,” she whispered, surprising Layne by taking it right to the point.
“Yeah,” he whispered back, his arms getting tighter around her, her hand slid from his jaw and both her arms closed around his neck.
She pressed into him and she did this deep, getting up on her toes so her face was close to his. He looked in her eyes and there was an intensity there, so strong it felt like her eyes were burning into his.
“Don’t let me leave you,” she whispered so quietly he almost didn’t hear her.
But he heard her, he not only heard her, he understood what she was saying and his chest seized, his gut twisted but his arms got even tighter.
“I won’t,” he whispered back, his voice was quiet too and thick.
“No matter what.” She was still talking low.
“No matter what,” he replied.
“Promise.”
“I promise, baby.”
She held his gaze then she asked softly, “Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“You told Marissa, when she found another man, not to tell him about her past.”
Oh fuck.
He wasn’t out of that minefield yet.
“Yeah,” he answered carefully.
“Honestly? Do you think, even if she finds a good guy, a really good guy, she shouldn’t tell him?”
“What are you really askin’, baby?”
“I’m asking about Marissa.”
“Then, if you’re askin’ about Marissa, yes.”
Her head moved back half an inch. “Because you think he’d think less of her? Judge her?”
“No, because she deserves to be loved for who she should have been, who she’ll be, not despite what was forced on her.”
He heard Rocky suck in breath and her eyes went back to intense and seeing it, he decided he’d managed not to get blown to bits yet again, he’d managed to hold her together and she’d made him promise never to let her go. He could do that. He could make her stay. He had her permission. Whatever it was, when they finally faced it, he had her permission to do what he had to do to make her stay.
Thank Christ that was done.
He also decided she’d had enough for one night, so had he, and it was time to move, the fuck, on.
So he lowered his head to take her mouth but her head went back another half inch and he stopped.
When he did, his eyebrows went up and Rocky whispered, “I need to go upstairs and get ready. My ma
n’s hungry.”
And before he could say a word, she pulled out of his arms but she did it with both her hand trailing along his neck and down his chest before she turned and strutted up the stairs.
Layne watched until she was out of sight, going so far as to move to the foot of the stairs to enjoy the whole show.
Then he cleared away the pizza and beer, checked that the apartment was secured, turned out the lights, went upstairs and ate dessert.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Nothing Means Everything
“Layne,” she whispered, pressing into him, her fingers digging into his neck.
Layne opened his eyes, dipped his chin and saw her staring up at him, her eyes burning.
“Tripp.” She kept whispering, her body pushing into his, hard, like she wanted him to absorb her, her fingers digging into his tense neck so hard he felt pain. “Tripp,” she repeated, her voice scared.
* * * * *
Layne’s eyes opened and he heard his cell phone.
Rocky shifted and then came up on an elbow.
Another dream. Another fucking, shitty, fucking dream.
“Baby,” Roc whispered, “your phone.”
Layne rolled, putting a hand to the floor, reaching out with the other one, he yanked his jeans toward the bed and pulled his cell out. He pushed off the floor, rolling again to his back as his eyes slid across Rocky’s clock to see it was ten after eight.
They’d seriously slept in.
The phone stopped ringing by the time he settled back. He flipped it open and looked at his received calls, Rocky moving into him again.
Tripp. Tripp at eight o’clock on a Saturday morning. The boys had to be at the pool with the team but not this early.
Fuck.
“Who was it?” Rocky asked.
“Tripp,” Layne answered, scrolling down to his son’s phone number in his contact list, he hit go.
Rocky pressed closer as Layne listened to it ring, his body tense because of the time and because of a phone call from his son at that time and because of his fucking dream.
It rang twice before Layne heard Tripp saying in his usual Tripp way, “Yo Dad!”
Layne pulled in breath.
Then he let it out while replying, “Yo, Pal. You called. What’s up?”