Golden Trail
Page 74
“No,” she whispered, she tucked her chin down and pulled his hand up her belly. “I’m sorry.”
He tugged his wrist from her fingers and slid it along her waist, rolling her with him to take them to their sides.
“That’s okay, honey.”
She tucked her face into his throat and nestled into his body, repeating on a whisper, “Shit, I’m so sorry.”
“Rocky, baby, that’s okay.”
Both her hands were on his chest and he felt her fingers curl in so they were held in light fists against his skin.
He kept one arm wrapped tight around her, her body close, and his other hand slid into her hair, the ponytail holder still in it, he gently yanked it out, tossed it to the bed and started to run his fingers through her hair.
When her fists didn’t loosen, he asked gently, “You all right?”
“I’m sorry, Layne,” she repeated.
“Baby, I said it’s okay.”
She pressed her face into his throat and then said so softly he barely heard her, “I’m on my period.”
His hand cupped her head, his arm gave her a squeeze and he understood.
She grew up with two men and no Mom at one of those times when a girl really needed her Mom. She had therefore guarded that fact of nature from the men in her house like it was a State secret. She did the same when she’d first moved in with Layne. Clearly, she’d not moved beyond this which, he had to admit, caused him some uneasiness because she was now thirty-eight years old, she’d spent ten years living with a medical doctor and it was a goddamned fact of nature.
On the other hand, he was f**king thrilled she’d stopped the proceedings because she was on her period and not because she didn’t want them to continue. Not to mention the fact that she’d cuddled into him afterward instead of throwing a conniption fit, bolting from bed, getting dressed and stomping from the house.
Layne didn’t respond and started sifting his fingers through her hair again. He did this until her fists uncurled and her hands rested flat against his chest.
Finally, he whispered, “You gotta get up, Rocky.”
“Yeah,” she whispered back.
“Jas bought you a toothbrush. I’ll bring it up.”
For some reason, her body locked and her hands moved quickly to his shoulders, fingers pressing in as her head tipped back, taking her face out of his throat.
“Jasper bought me a toothbrush?” she asked.
“Yeah,” Layne answered.
Her voice had changed, a lot, when she said, “Layne.”
He grinned in the dark and replied, “I’ll go get it.”
Her fingers curled deeper and she repeated, “Layne.”
“Rocky, you need to get a move on.”
He started to roll away from her but she rolled with him, coming up on an elbow in the bed, she planted the other hand firm in his chest and he saw her shadow looming over at him.
“You asked your son to buy me a toothbrush?” she snapped, sounding hilariously disgusted.
“He was out so… yeah,” Layne answered.
She lifted her hand and smacked his shoulder with it, saying on a quiet shout, “Layne!”
He knifed up to sitting and his arms went around her, he twisted and took her down to her back, his torso pinning her to the bed.
When he got her in position, he informed her, “Sweetcheeks, everyone needs a toothbrush.”
“I can’t believe you,” she hissed.
“Am I wrong?”
“You are not to be believed!”
“Baby,” he murmured sounding only slightly less amused then he actually was.
“Layne,” she snapped back sounding probably just as pissed as she actually was.
Even though he couldn’t see her clearly in the dark, they went into stare down. He let this go on for awhile before he used option two, bent his head and kissed her hard. She resisted, he persisted and the minute he got his tongue in her mouth, her body relaxed under his.
He took his fill and enjoyed doing it, almost too much, before he lifted his head and ordered, “Get yourself sorted out, sweetcheeks, I’ll be back with your toothbrush.”
Then he intentionally squeezed the breath out of her so she couldn’t get a shot in by rolling his bodyweight over her, getting out of bed on her side, lighting the lamp on the nightstand and aiming a grin at her lying on her back but up on one elbow, the other hand holding the covers to her chest, glaring at him before he walked out of the room to get her toothbrush.
When Layne hit the kitchen, he saw Devin sitting at a stool in his wife beater and boxer shorts, a mug of steaming coffee in his hand, his eyes on the News playing low on the TV. They cut to Layne when he appeared and they watched Layne walk to the toothbrush sitting on the island.
The toothbrush Jasper bought Rocky was white and pink. Yes, his son was sharp. As a tack.
Also on the island were two big, white baker’s boxes opened and stuffed full with Hilligoss donuts.
Layne stopped and looked at Devin. “Please tell me you put on your pants when you went to the bakery.”
“Of course, boy, it’s cold out there.”
Thank f**k.
Layne turned to the cupboard with the mugs, making a note to move them to the one over the coffeemaker and he did this in an effort not to think about why in the f**k Devin took off his pants when he arrived home from the bakery, when Devin went on, his tone mulish. “Calais is at the curb.”
“That’s good,” Layne returned, walking his mug to the coffeemaker. “’Cause Rocky’s gonna blow through here in about five minutes and she’s probably gonna take out the garage door when she goes and it’d be a cryin’ shame she damages the Calais, seein’ as you put so much effort into keepin’ it in pristine condition for twenty-five years.”
Without missing a beat, Dev muttered, “Better put my pants on then.”
Layne poured a cup of coffee, spooned in two sugars and was stirring it when he turned and saw Devin sauntering back to the island in wife beater and slacks.
“Remember a time when they left your room in the mornin’ with a smile on their face, boy, you must be losin’ your touch,” Devin remarked.
“Figure you’ll be in town for awhile, old man, it might be good to brace,” Layne advised, dropped the spoon on the counter and took a sip of joe.
Devin’s eyes locked on Layne’s. “We gonna have fireworks?”
Layne dropped his hand holding the mug but held Dev’s gaze. “How easy do you think it is for a man to talk a woman into takin’ a risk on dark and wild?”
He tugged his wrist from her fingers and slid it along her waist, rolling her with him to take them to their sides.
“That’s okay, honey.”
She tucked her face into his throat and nestled into his body, repeating on a whisper, “Shit, I’m so sorry.”
“Rocky, baby, that’s okay.”
Both her hands were on his chest and he felt her fingers curl in so they were held in light fists against his skin.
He kept one arm wrapped tight around her, her body close, and his other hand slid into her hair, the ponytail holder still in it, he gently yanked it out, tossed it to the bed and started to run his fingers through her hair.
When her fists didn’t loosen, he asked gently, “You all right?”
“I’m sorry, Layne,” she repeated.
“Baby, I said it’s okay.”
She pressed her face into his throat and then said so softly he barely heard her, “I’m on my period.”
His hand cupped her head, his arm gave her a squeeze and he understood.
She grew up with two men and no Mom at one of those times when a girl really needed her Mom. She had therefore guarded that fact of nature from the men in her house like it was a State secret. She did the same when she’d first moved in with Layne. Clearly, she’d not moved beyond this which, he had to admit, caused him some uneasiness because she was now thirty-eight years old, she’d spent ten years living with a medical doctor and it was a goddamned fact of nature.
On the other hand, he was f**king thrilled she’d stopped the proceedings because she was on her period and not because she didn’t want them to continue. Not to mention the fact that she’d cuddled into him afterward instead of throwing a conniption fit, bolting from bed, getting dressed and stomping from the house.
Layne didn’t respond and started sifting his fingers through her hair again. He did this until her fists uncurled and her hands rested flat against his chest.
Finally, he whispered, “You gotta get up, Rocky.”
“Yeah,” she whispered back.
“Jas bought you a toothbrush. I’ll bring it up.”
For some reason, her body locked and her hands moved quickly to his shoulders, fingers pressing in as her head tipped back, taking her face out of his throat.
“Jasper bought me a toothbrush?” she asked.
“Yeah,” Layne answered.
Her voice had changed, a lot, when she said, “Layne.”
He grinned in the dark and replied, “I’ll go get it.”
Her fingers curled deeper and she repeated, “Layne.”
“Rocky, you need to get a move on.”
He started to roll away from her but she rolled with him, coming up on an elbow in the bed, she planted the other hand firm in his chest and he saw her shadow looming over at him.
“You asked your son to buy me a toothbrush?” she snapped, sounding hilariously disgusted.
“He was out so… yeah,” Layne answered.
She lifted her hand and smacked his shoulder with it, saying on a quiet shout, “Layne!”
He knifed up to sitting and his arms went around her, he twisted and took her down to her back, his torso pinning her to the bed.
When he got her in position, he informed her, “Sweetcheeks, everyone needs a toothbrush.”
“I can’t believe you,” she hissed.
“Am I wrong?”
“You are not to be believed!”
“Baby,” he murmured sounding only slightly less amused then he actually was.
“Layne,” she snapped back sounding probably just as pissed as she actually was.
Even though he couldn’t see her clearly in the dark, they went into stare down. He let this go on for awhile before he used option two, bent his head and kissed her hard. She resisted, he persisted and the minute he got his tongue in her mouth, her body relaxed under his.
He took his fill and enjoyed doing it, almost too much, before he lifted his head and ordered, “Get yourself sorted out, sweetcheeks, I’ll be back with your toothbrush.”
Then he intentionally squeezed the breath out of her so she couldn’t get a shot in by rolling his bodyweight over her, getting out of bed on her side, lighting the lamp on the nightstand and aiming a grin at her lying on her back but up on one elbow, the other hand holding the covers to her chest, glaring at him before he walked out of the room to get her toothbrush.
When Layne hit the kitchen, he saw Devin sitting at a stool in his wife beater and boxer shorts, a mug of steaming coffee in his hand, his eyes on the News playing low on the TV. They cut to Layne when he appeared and they watched Layne walk to the toothbrush sitting on the island.
The toothbrush Jasper bought Rocky was white and pink. Yes, his son was sharp. As a tack.
Also on the island were two big, white baker’s boxes opened and stuffed full with Hilligoss donuts.
Layne stopped and looked at Devin. “Please tell me you put on your pants when you went to the bakery.”
“Of course, boy, it’s cold out there.”
Thank f**k.
Layne turned to the cupboard with the mugs, making a note to move them to the one over the coffeemaker and he did this in an effort not to think about why in the f**k Devin took off his pants when he arrived home from the bakery, when Devin went on, his tone mulish. “Calais is at the curb.”
“That’s good,” Layne returned, walking his mug to the coffeemaker. “’Cause Rocky’s gonna blow through here in about five minutes and she’s probably gonna take out the garage door when she goes and it’d be a cryin’ shame she damages the Calais, seein’ as you put so much effort into keepin’ it in pristine condition for twenty-five years.”
Without missing a beat, Dev muttered, “Better put my pants on then.”
Layne poured a cup of coffee, spooned in two sugars and was stirring it when he turned and saw Devin sauntering back to the island in wife beater and slacks.
“Remember a time when they left your room in the mornin’ with a smile on their face, boy, you must be losin’ your touch,” Devin remarked.
“Figure you’ll be in town for awhile, old man, it might be good to brace,” Layne advised, dropped the spoon on the counter and took a sip of joe.
Devin’s eyes locked on Layne’s. “We gonna have fireworks?”
Layne dropped his hand holding the mug but held Dev’s gaze. “How easy do you think it is for a man to talk a woman into takin’ a risk on dark and wild?”
