v Ashley - Golden Trail

Her face got even paler and her eyes grew unfocused in a way that didn’t sit right with Layne.

When she didn’t speak and her eyes stayed distant, he called, “Roc?”

Her eyes focused on his and she whispered one word.

“Jarrod.”

He felt something sweep through him, an emotion that he didn’t quite get, but one he liked, and it rushed through him strong, leaving a golden trail.

“Bonus, baby,” he whispered and he felt her body relax beneath him.

“You know,” she said softly.

She meant about Astley’s new piece.

“I know,” he confirmed.

“Even if he’s got… even with her there, he won’t like this, Layne,” she informed him.

“Good,” he replied without hesitation.

She started to look uncomfortable and her body tensed. “Layne –”

“The whole town’s gonna know.”

He thought she’d like that, getting her own back against her asshole husband, getting in his face by moving on, publicly, to an old flame after only two months separation.

“But –”

“You done with him?” Layne asked and her face grew sharp.

“Obviously.” Her voice was sharp too.

“Then what do you care?”

Her eyes narrowed. “What about Jasper, Tripp… Gabrielle?”

Shit.

He hadn’t thought of that.

He looked over head.

“Layne,” she called and he looked back at her.

“The boys’ll be in on it.”

Her body went so solid, when it did it, it bucked. “They can’t –”

“Not everything, Roc, just enough. They’ll be cool and they’ll keep their mouths shut. They’re good kids.”

“I don’t think –”

“They’ll be cool.”

“And Gabrielle?”

He stared at her face and it hit him that she was hiding something. Looking closer, he saw it was pain.

What the fuck?

“Rocky –” he started to ask.

“She won’t be cool.” Her voice was inching toward anger, using that as a shield for the pain she was failing to hide behind her eyes. “She’s your wife.”

Definitely anger. Each word came out clipped.

But what she said made him angry too, enough to forget what he read in her eyes.

“Hasn’t been that in a long time, sweetcheeks,” he clipped back.

“But –”

“Don’t worry about Gabrielle.”

“Layne, I’m not sure.”

“You got five seconds to give me a better idea.”

She glared at him and he saw her mind working.

He counted to five.

Then he gave her ten.

Then he declared, “No? Then the deal’s done.”

“Layne –”

He jackknifed off her but grabbed her hand and yanked her to her feet in front of him.

“Mimi’s,” he stated, “coffee.”

“Layne.”

“Coffee, sweetcheeks.”

She tugged at her hand but he dragged her to the door.

“Layne!”

He turned and pulled her hand so she fell into his body.

She tipped her head back and looked at him.

“Coffee.”

She glared. Then she did it some more. They went into stare down and he held it intent to do it for as long as it took.

She read that and gave in first.

“All right,” she snapped, “coffee. But I need my purse.”

He turned in order to hide his grin, opened the door, muttered, “No you don’t, sweetcheeks, I’m buyin’,” and he took Rocky to Mimi’s.

Layne made sure he was home when his boys got home because Rocky was showing at six o’clock. He wanted enough time to tell them what he had to tell them and not enough time for them to have any to think on it.

They came in with hair wet from their after practice showers and workout bags with their backpacks slung over their shoulders.

Laundry time.

Layne hated laundry. Luckily, his boys both primped as only high school boys did. They felt it a moral imperative to look good at all times and therefore not wear reeking clothes, and since their old man didn’t do laundry until it was either that or go shopping for new clothes (shopping something Layne hated worse than laundry), they did their own.

“Bags down boys, we gotta talk,” he announced.

“Hey!” Tripp shouted, dropping his bags in the middle of the kitchen and petting an excited Blondie who was giving them a welcome home as if they’d been at sea for twelve months rather than at school for ten hours, at the same time he reached a hand to some groceries on the counter that Layne had not yet put away. “You got oatmeal!” Tripp finished, waving a box.

Layne grinned at him. “Sustained energy, Pal.”

Tripp grinned back.

“Shit, Dad, why’d you buy Blondie five bowls?” Jasper asked. He’d dumped his bags too and he was fiddling with the stack of bowls Layne bought Blondie before he went grocery shopping.

“Blondie’s dish goes in the dishwasher every night. She gets a new one in the morning,” Layne explained and both boys turned to him.

“What?” Jasper asked then asked another question before Layne could answer, “Why?”

“She just does.” Layne blew it off. “Now sit.”

Tripp and Jasper looked at each other. Then they sat at the island.

When they did, Layne moved to stand across from them. Then he laid it out for them and he didn’t pretty it up.

“I talked with Rocky today and found out there’s another reason why she came over yesterday,” he declared and both their faces went from mildly baffled direct to openly curious. Layne continued. “I told you that me gettin’ shot tweaked somethin’ in Rocky and I wasn’t wrong. Now, there’s things I can’t fully explain to you, not now, maybe when this is done but, in the meantime, because of what happened to me, me and Rocky are gonna pretend we’re an item.”

“What!” Jasper shouted.

“That’s so cool!” Tripp yelled, that hope Layne had seen that morning washing full on through his face.

Layne couldn’t focus on Tripp’s hope that Layne would hook up with his ex-flame who happened to be the school’s coolest teacher. He had to focus on Jasper whose reactions were usually more hostile and even volatile.

Therefore, Layne’s eyes locked on Jas. “Calm down, Jas.”

“What the fuck, Dad! She’s a teacher. At my school!” Jasper was still shouting and now he was in a squat, heels to the bar at the bottom of the stool, ready to go ballistic.

“I said, calm down, boy,” Layne ordered low.

Jasper stared at him. He knew Layne’s tone, a tone he didn’t use with him often but he used it when he meant it and Jasper knew what he meant so he moved his ass back to his seat. When he settled, Layne carried on.

“I was workin’ a case when that happened, I got too close too soon. Now, Rocky and me have made a deal and she’s workin’ the case with me.”

“You’re workin’ a case with a teacher?” Jasper snarled, settled but still unhappy.

“Yeah, Jas, it’s safe for her because I’ll make it so and she’s returning the favor because,” his voice dipped quiet, “as you can tell, Bud, it became not-so-safe for me. She’s gonna provide cover. The thing is, not just the people we want to think we’re together are gonna see us together. Everyone’s gonna see it. Rocky was worried you two would get confused and I told her not to worry about my boys. I’m always straight with you and I told her you were good kids, you’d sit on it, play it out with us and keep us both safe. Now, I know you aren’t my biggest fan, Jas,” Layne kept his eyes locked on his son, “but I also know down to my gut you won’t make me a liar.”

That muscle ticked in his oldest son’s cheek but Jas didn’t say anything.

Correctly, Layne read that as agreement.

He decided to sweeten the pot.

“There’s another reason I’m doin’ this,” he told them. “Her husband is a jackass and he’s stepped out on her and, the story goes, he’s been doin’ it throughout their marriage. She barely got her foot out of the door before he moved another woman in. The whole town knew about him cheating on her but Rocky was clueless. She’s not handling that well.”

Jasper’s eyebrows shot up and he asked, “No shit?”

“No shit,” Layne replied.

“What? He blind?” Tripp asked.

“No, just stupid,” Layne answered.

“Has to be, yeesh,” Tripp muttered and Layne grinned at him and continued.

“Rocky doesn’t know this part but I’m gonna be in his face with this and I need you two to be good with that. You get me?”

Tripp didn’t get him, he stared at his old man, confused.

Jasper got him, he stared at his old man, blank, then his eyes lit with what was in them that morning before he smiled and when he smiled, he did it slow.

Layne smiled back at him.

“What?” Tripp asked, looking back and forth between his brother and father.

Jasper held Layne’s eyes and didn’t look away.

“What?” Tripp repeated and Jasper finally looked to his brother.

“I’ll explain it later,” he muttered.

“Later is good since she’s gonna be here in five minutes for dinner,” Layne told them and Jasper’s eyes swung back to his Dad.

“She is?” Tripp asked eagerly.

“She is, Pal,” Layne answered. “Get your gear sorted and books up to your room. Whose night is it to cook?”

“I’m not cookin’ for Mrs. Astley!” Tripp shouted, not eager anymore, he was freaked out. “She makes, like, gourmet stuff! She even cooks her own bread!”

“I’ll cook,” Jasper, cocky as ever, grinned at his brother. “I’m the bomb in the kitchen.”

“Dude, you burn a TV dinner in the microwave,” Tripp told Jasper.

“I was on the phone with one of my babes,” Jasper returned. “Learn from the master, Tripp-o-matic, babes need undivided attention. You get me?”

It hit Layne that Jasper ended his statement with Layne’s words of not five minutes before. Maybe Jasper wasn’t completely immune to his influence after all. Though, he wasn’t certain he was down with where Jasper was taking it.

“Keira Winters needs your undivided attention, you mean,” Tripp retorted and looked to Layne. “Jasper’s got the hots for the prettiest girl in school and she’s also the only one who doesn’t know he exists.”

The muscles in Layne’s neck contracted and his eyes sliced to his older boy.

“Keira Winters, Joe Callahan’s stepdaughter?” Layne asked.

“One in the same, Dad,” Tripp answered for Jasper. “Jasper’s hot on the trail of the Lone Wolf’s hottie stepdaughter, and getting nowhere, I’ll add.”

Oh fuck. This was not good. Jasper went through girls like water, he was cocky, he was confident, he was assertive and he expected to get him some. Jasper did not need an angry Joe Callahan on his ass and Layne didn’t need an angry Joe Callahan on his hands.

Cal was a friend and he was a good guy but everyone in that town knew he’d bonded with his new wife’s stepdaughters and, by that, Layne meant he’d bonded. Layne already slept with a gun under his pillow, mainly because people in about twenty-seven states wanted him dead. In that ‘burg, he slept with it under his pillow because he figured fathers county-wide wanted his son dead. Cal would not be like any other father who went berserk because some hotshot football star got in their daughter’s pants. Cal would go commando on Jasper’s ass.

“Tripp, sort out your gear and take Jas’s with you, I need another word with him,” Layne ordered.

“Dad, his gear stinks like all get out,” Tripp complained and Layne’s eyes cut to him.

“Do it, Pal.”

Tripp stared at him. Then he slunk off, grabbed all four bags from the floor and trudged them up the stairs.

Layne looked at Jasper and, the second time that night, he laid it out. “Lay off Keira Winters.”

“What?” Jasper whispered, the good, warm, golden light flashing out of his eyes, the warning, red, volatile asshole teenaged kid one taking its place.

Layne shook his head and leaned toward him, settling on his forearms. “You like her, Jas, go for it. You wanna get in her pants, lay off.”

Jasper started to make a move off his stool, muttering, “This is none of your fuckin’–”

“Her father was murdered,” Layne cut in, Jasper’s body jerked and he froze on the stool. “Her uncle, the same. Her mother was kidnapped, her stepdad too. She almost lost her entire family, Jas. A girl like that, you handle with care. Yeah?”

“You think I’m a dawg,” Jasper whispered, disappointment he couldn’t hide scoring through his features.

Quietly, Layne replied, “Bud, you go through more condoms than the offensive line of the Colts after a win.”