Cecilia giggled.
The birth of Cecilia was an event that made a lot of people pretty fucking happy, including Layne’s two boys. They loved their sister and CeeCee liked her Mom and Dad, she liked Vera and Devin, she liked Dave and Merry, she liked Keira and Giselle, but she adored her brothers.
The person it didn’t make happy was Gabrielle. Gabby detested her sons’ devotion to Rocky and Layne’s daughter and didn’t mind letting that fact be known. She didn’t say anything but it pissed her off, her sons preferring to be with their Dad, Roc and their sister and Gabby, being Gabby, found her own, particular bitchy way to let this be known.
As usual, it wasn’t a good play. Her boys didn’t like it and she didn’t let it go so she’d managed to alienate them both. Now, neither saw her very often. When Jas came home from Purdue, he was on the air mattress in his old room, now Tripp’s room. And Tripp, more often than not, stopped taking his turns at Gabby’s.
When this started, Gabby had threatened Layne with attorneys. As he’d told her that morning at Rocky’s apartment, Layne didn’t respond because he never responded. She called, he didn’t answer. She called him from a number he didn’t recognize, he picked up, heard her voice then hung up. She left a message, he didn’t return it. The buzzer beeped at his office and he saw her on the monitor, he walked to the outer door and locked it. She never came to the house because she tried that once, the door went unanswered and Tripp had pulled up while she was camped out on one of Rocky’s Adirondack chairs on the front porch and this didn’t go over very well with Tripp, as in at all, so she’d never tried that shit again.
Gabby didn’t enter his or Roc’s life except when he became annoyed when his sons’ spoke of her bullshit, bitter antics.
But Tripp had had a word with his mother, it was a word she didn’t like but, whatever it was, it was also a word that made her back off. After that, Tripp went his own way and that way normally led him to his room at Layne and Roc’s.
With time, Tripp had learned cool. He’d also learned to focus his intensity. And both made Tripp Layne a young man you didn’t mess with, even if you were his mother.
Rocky had intervened on Gabby’s behalf and she’d done this more than once, with both boys together and separate. She’d intervened but her efforts weren’t successful. Devin had been right, like their father, both Layne’s sons saw Rocky’s vulnerable spot even before she exposed it that Saturday afternoon and her work at healing that wound hadn’t stopped his sons’ from militantly standing strong to protect against it, or anything, causing her pain. This wasn’t because their old man loved Rocky, it was because they did. The addition of Cecilia just strengthened their connection with Layne’s wife. That didn’t mean they didn’t love their mother that just meant she’d made an extremely stupid play. He knew his boys, they cared about Gabby, they’d find their way back – but when they did, they’d do it on their terms.
“Takin’ Ellie down to Bloomington next week, Dad, she wants to scope out the campus,” Tripp told him, his neck craning, dodging CeeCee’s hand at the same time he was grinning at her and tickling her side with his fingers.
“All right,” Layne replied.
“You go to IU, we won’t be able to talk anymore,” Keira told Giselle, dipping her head to rest her cheek back on Jas.
“They have a good med school,” Giselle replied.
“So does IU…PU…I,” Keira returned and Giselle shook her head, a small smile on her face.
It would be interesting to see if Giselle went to IU. She was determined to be a doctor and had the grades for it. She also had the diligence.
Tripp, however, had an uncertain future. It was uncertain but it was bright. He’d made the All-USA High School Football team and this meant he wasn’t just a star in the ‘burg, he was a star throughout the State of Indiana. With Giselle his girl, Rocky his stepmother and his head together, his grades were excellent. Because of this, Tripp had his choice of colleges but, considering his game kept improving and the high school team had seen two consecutive wins at State, both of these having a lot to do with Tripp, who excelled far beyond anyone’s expectations, expectations that were already high, if he avoided injury it was highly likely after school he’d be drafted into the pros.
That said, Giselle might be quiet and shy, but she was also smart and knew what she wanted. If Tripp and Giselle went the distance through their upcoming senior year, it would be interesting to see who followed who. Raquel speculated about it all the time. She figured Tripp would follow Giselle. Layne knew Tripp would do his own thing and if he wanted to keep connected with Giselle, even if they were apart, he’d make that so.
Layne’s eyes moved from his son to his daughter seeing, at this point, not getting what she wanted from one brother, Cecilia was giving up on Tripp and she crawled across his chest, launching herself at Jasper who caught her with two hands, dropped to his back, disengaging from Keira. He threw Cecilia in the air and caught her as she giggled loudly.
Keira kept a hand on Jas’s abs and watched, her face soft, her eyes longing.
Fuck.
Layne was thankfully taken from thoughts of imminent grandfatherhood when he felt cold on his arm and looked up to see Rocky holding a beer there.
“Beer, sweetheart,” she whispered.
“Thanks, baby,” he muttered through a smile and took the bottle.
She gave him the dimple before she dropped down beside him, her movement fluid, then she curled into him much like Keira had been curled into Jas except without her leg tangled with his or her cheek to his shoulder. But her torso was pressed to his side and her hand, holding a fancy-ass bottle of beer, was resting on his abs.
“So, how’s Vi feeling about the engagement?” Layne asked her.
“Old,” Rocky replied, Layne grinned and looked at Vi. She was now standing with Cal at the barbeque, Sam had been claimed by Keira’s grandmother, Bea. Cal had his arm wrapped around Vi’s shoulders and he’d pinned her to his chest, his head dipped down, his face close to hers. Vi looked pissed in a way Layne knew she didn’t mean it and he knew this because Cal was grinning. What Vi didn’t look was old. She looked tanned and healthy and full of attitude.
Layne took a slug from his beer, his eyes doing a scan, seeing Colt and Feb lounged in the grass much like Layne and Rocky. Angela was crawling all over Colt, Jack was chasing after her and Feb was holding on to her man. Colt was grinning down at Angela and Jack. Feb wasn’t grinning. Feb’s forehead was pressed to Colt’s neck, her eyes had a faraway look in them and her face was, no other way to describe it, at peace.
Layne’s eyes kept scanning and he saw Lexie with her latest boyfriend. Seth had gone to Ball State and Alexis had moved on, then again, and again, according to word from Rocky, Keira, Giselle and Lissa, all of whom kept close watch on Alexis’s active love life. Now she was dating Tripp’s friend Shane and she was smitten because Shane was playing it cool. She’d finally met her match in the games playing stakes but Lexie, she was fighting to win. Inside word from Tripp was that Shane was into her and she wouldn’t have to fight too hard. Shane just didn’t want to be a notch on Lexie’s belt and he was setting about making that so.
His eyes kept scanning and he saw Lissa and Ryker who, after what went down, made their way in with this crowd then went about fixing themselves to it permanently. Immediately after it was over, Ryker had moved in with Lissa and her daughter. Not too long after that, Ryker had also officially adopted Alexis. Therefore Ryker’s life was a living hell as new father to a spitfire and he bitched about it incessantly but Layne knew he was full of shit. With the way Ryker did it, Layne knew he was loving every minute of it.
Ryker still partnered with Layne on occasion, sometimes it was when Layne needed him, most of the time it was when Ryker was bored and needed something to do. All other times, Ryker was just Ryker. Layne had long ago searched and found Ryker had been paroled two years after going down for grand theft auto. Once released, he’d stayed clean but he’d
done this by staying off the grid and therefore Layne had no clue what he did to keep his Harley in fuel and his woman and daughter happy. Except for the fact he made it his business to be in everyone else’s and information didn’t come cheap. Layne had no problem with that either since, often in Layne’s line of work, he needed information and Ryker gave him a discount.
His eyes continued scanning and he saw Devin chatting with Feb’s father Jack and brother Morrie, Vera not too far away gabbing with Feb’s mother Jackie. Devin and Vera had officially hooked up and, six months ago in a small, private ceremony with Layne at Devin’s side, his Aunt Flo at Vera’s, and a single pew filled only with Rocky, a nearly newborn CeeCee in her arms, Jasper and Tripp, they’d taken vows. Layne was no longer uncertain how he felt about this. Vera had her own life and liked living it so she did and let Dev go his own way. This left Dev free to go his own way without headache or constant nagging for an explanation but with a good meal every night and a woman who put up with his bad attitude and more often than not gave as good as she got. Therefore, it worked for Devin in a way he’d never found before, the same for Layne’s Ma. They were happy – Dev, cantankerously so, Vera deliriously so. And this worked for Layne.
He felt Rocky’s hand leave his abs and he watched her take a pull on her beer as she listened to Keira gabbing about something. She took the bottle from her mouth and smiled at Keira then laughed softly as Keira kept talking.
It was then it came to Layne that the sun was shining, the beer was cold, there were friends and family all around, Vi’s backyard was beautiful, Layne’s boys were close, his daughter was babbling happily at her brother and his woman was pressed to his side, laughing softly.
Nothing.
He was lying in the grass with his boys, his girl and his woman doing nothing.
Which meant everything.
Layne felt that golden trail glide through him.
All this time, he’d never lost it. It was no longer as strong but it didn’t need to be. It moved through him often, every day, sometimes more than once. He’d learned to savor it, not to take anything for granted, not even normal.
No, especially not normal.
Therefore, determined not to take anything for granted, his eyes glued to Raquel’s profile, he lifted up, her head turned, he twisted and locked an arm around her waist, pulling her up his chest.
“Layne –” she started but his head came down and he kissed his wife.
Hard.
He tasted her, smelled her, felt her soft body pressed to his and he loved all of that.
But what he heard was his daughter’s giggle.
And he loved that too.
* * * * *
Layne laid the sleeping Cecilia on her belly in her crib in Tripp’s old room.
He pulled the blanket up to her shoulders and let his hand rest on her bottom a second while he made certain she settled. Then he moved out of the room, ignoring the excess decoration of pinks and purples and shooting stars. His wife could shop and she was thrilled beyond reason when she’d had a daughter, something Layne knew before she’d had her because Doc had told him, information Rocky had unusually not wanted to know until the day came. Since her birth, Layne wasn’t certain his daughter wore the same thing twice and he rarely went into CeeCee’s room and not found some new decoration or toy. Vera advised that he should curtail Rocky’s tendency to spoil their daughter rotten. His mother had advised this but Layne had no intention of taking that advice. Layne intended to let Roc be whatever kind of mother she wanted to be and as the months slid passed, he knew this was the right decision. This was mainly because Rocky was Rocky and it was also because she’d had two good teachers.
He heard his family downstairs and headed that way but stopped when his phone rang. He pulled it out, checked the display, flipped it open and put it to his ear.
“What’s up, Sully?” Layne greeted.
“Got news, Tanner,” Sully replied and this could mean anything.
Since it all went down, Layne’s caseload hadn’t lightened. Now that his mother did his books and he had a receptionist, his caseload had doubled. Thus, his daughter’s room could be filled with girlie shit, his wife’s closet filled with clingy dresses, his credit card statement filled with expensive dinners so he could eat while sitting across from his wife while she was wearing clingy dresses, his youngest son had a Camaro and his family had an underground pool.
Therefore, with a heavy caseload that often involved work with the ‘burg’s PD, Sully’s news could mean anything.
“What?” Layne asked.
“Harrison Rutledge is dead, man. Happened yesterday. Shiv to the jugular. He bled out before the guards got to his body.”
Well, that took longer than expected.
“World’s not exactly a poorer place,” Layne muttered.
“Yeah,” Sully agreed. “But thought you’d wanna know.”
“Thanks, Sul,” Layne replied.
“One other thing,” Sully stated.
“Yeah?”
“Stew Baranski’s parole was denied.”
Layne grinned.
“Not a model prisoner?” Layne asked.
“Guy’s not only an asshole, apparently he’s an asshole magnet. He and his crew aren’t real popular with their fellow inmates or the guards. Dick’s seen a lotta solitary. Why they even put him before the parole board is anyone’s guess.”
“Probably were hopin’ to get rid of him. Not a good fix, turning him loose on an unsuspecting public, but at least he’d be outta their hair.”
“Yeah,” Sully muttered and Layne knew he was smiling, “that would be why.”
Layne chuckled.
“That’s all the news that’s fit to print,” Sully said then finished, “for now.”
“Right, later,” Layne returned
“Later.”
Layne flipped his phone closed and wiped his mind clean of Harrison Rutledge and Stewart Baranski. Those assholes had had enough of his time, his life and Rutledge had been responsible for taking Layne’s blood. They didn’t deserve to be in Layne’s house, not ever but especially not now, not when it was filled with the beautiful life, a place Harrison Rutledge, dead or alive, and Stew Baranski didn’t deserve to be.
Layne walked down the stairs and saw through the sliding glass door that Devin was outside with a stoagie. Then he saw his boys and their girls were in the living room, Blondie sitting beside Jasper with her head in his lap, his fingers scratching behind her ears, her eyes closed in apparent dog ecstasy. Vera was in the kitchen looking like she was going to cook something even though they’d all just left the barbeque and they’d all eaten enough for a week. And Roc was sitting at the island, opening mail.
Layne went to Rocky, fitted his front to her back, swept her hair from her shoulder and dropped his head to kiss her neck.
“You could save a move if you let me wear my hair in a ponytail,” she pointed out as she slit open an envelope.
“We’ll leave that ‘til I’m ninety and decrepit,” Layne replied.
“Right,” she whispered but he could tell she did it through a smile. “Like you’re ever going to be decrepit.” Layne straightened and Rocky asked softly, “She down?”
“And out,” Layne answered.
“Good,” Rocky whispered.
He started to move away when Rocky pulled something out of the envelope, studied it, twisted and asked him, “Do you know a Farrah Gerald or an Andre Washington?”
Layne’s body went still and he looked down at the thick, embossed card in her hand.
“What?” he asked.
She flipped the card back and forth. “A Farrah Gerald or Andre Washington,” she repeated. “This is their wedding announcement. I have no clue who they are but…” her head turned, she flipped the thick, cream envelope over and studied the address then looked back at Layne, “it’s addressed to us.” She went back to the card, flipped it over too and then twisted again to look at Layne. “And there’s a note
, sweetheart. It says,” her eyes dropped to the card, “‘Don’t worry, he reminds me of you. He’s a badass but he’s got a soft spot too.’”
Layne stared at the card. Then he looked at Rocky who’d tipped her head back to look at him.
Then he grinned.
Three blasts from the past in five minutes, one expected, one inconsequential, one unexpected, none unwelcome.
Layne got close and locked eyes with Rocky then he slid his hand up her back, under her hair, his fingers curling around her neck.
“Marissa Gibbons, baby,” he whispered, watched her eyes grow wide then her head dropped and she stared down at the announcement.
Then he watched the dimple hit her cheek.
* * * * *
“Layne.”
Breathy, beautiful. Fuck.
Layne kept driving his cock into his wife.
“Baby,” she whispered into his ear through her pants.
“Don’t hold back,” Layne grunted into her ear, one of his forearms in the sectional, the other hand between them, finger at her clit.
“God, oh my God. Don’t stop,” she begged, lifting her hips for him, all her limbs wrapped around him, her wrists under her ankles, her fingers curled into his ass.
“Stop holding back, baby,” Layne ordered, she did as she was told, her hips surged up, her neck arched and a low moan slid from her throat as her pussy pulsed around his cock.
His finger left her clit, his hand went to her hip, he pulled her up to keep taking him as she kept coming underneath him and he thrust into her, hard, deep, fast and then his mouth found hers and he groaned down her throat as he exploded.
He came down and Rocky kept him trapped in her limbs as he kept stroking, slowly, through their combined wetness inside her. As he did this, his mouth explored her neck and hers returned the favor.
Then he rolled to his back, keeping their connection. He did an ab curl, grabbed the throw then laid back pulling it over his wife and his naked bodies.
Golden Trail (The 'Burg Series) Page 71