“No, you’re gonna sleep here.” He jerked his head to the bed again and she took a step back.

“What?” she whispered.

“We gotta make this look real,” he repeated.

“Layne!” She threw her hands up. “No one can see in the house!”

“So?” he asked.

“So?” she repeated irately then looked around the room and back at him where her eyes narrowed. “What’s going on?” she asked.

“You been in on it the whole time, Roc, you know what’s going on,” he answered.

Rocky crossed her arms on her chest and stated, “Two days ago we were at each other’s throats. Now we’re…” she hesitated, looked to the door again and back at him before she said in a heavy voice, “not.”

“Two days ago was not good, the night before that, Rocky, when Melody was here, was worse. I can’t take that and, what’s more, I’m not gonna put you through that. We got a lotta shit goin’ down around us and we don’t need to be tearin’ into each other while it happens. When this started, you and me, that night you came to dinner, that night of the game, it was good. We’re goin’ back to that.”

“I’m not sure –” she started.

“I’m not askin’ if you’re sure. That’s what we’re doin’,” he told her, her eyes narrowed again and he went on. “You think we can convince people we’re together, that this is real, if behind the scenes we’re like that?” He shook his head. “We can’t and too much is at stake. We gotta live this like it’s real, Rocky, and that’s what we’re doin’, out there,” he pointed to the doors and then down at the floor, “and in here.”

She stared at him then clipped, “Okay, Layne, agreed, but we’re not sleeping in the same bed.”

“You had a photographer takin’ pictures in your house, you want someone, anyone seein’ me sleepin’ on your couch, wonderin’ why and talkin’ about it?”

“I’ll get blinds,” she shot back.

“All right, but you don’t have them now,” he returned.

She clamped her teeth together. Then she said, “Then I’ll sleep here but I’ll –”

Layne cut her off. “Sleep in my bed.”

“Layne –”

“You’re sleepin’ in my bed.”

“Layne!”

“Rocky, for fuck’s sake, it’s a big bed. Look at it. What do you think is gonna happen?”

Her head turned and she looked at the bed. He could tell she was thinking and he felt no guilt at all for lying by implication that nothing was going to happen because he knew something was going to happen and he knew exactly what that was going to be because he was going to be doing it… to her.

Then her head jerked back so she could look out the window and she muttered, “This is ridiculous.”

“This is real, they gotta see it out there so we gotta live it in here,” Layne returned and her eyes cut to him. It was totally lame, complete bullshit and he knew it but he sensed she was buying it.

Then she bought it.

“Perhaps we can start tomorrow,” she suggested and he beat back a grin.

Then he walked to his dresser, opened a drawer and pulled out a tee. He took two long strides back to her, tossed the tee at her and she caught it at her chest.

“Get changed and climb in, sweetcheeks,” he ordered and watched her face pale. “I’ll be back in five. We got stuff to talk about, we’ll talk, we’ll watch TV then we’ll sleep.”

“Layne,” she whispered but he didn’t answer. He turned and walked out of the room.

He was in the kitchen clearing out the coffeemaker to get it ready for coffee the next morning when he heard her heels hit the tiles. His neck twisted and his eyes hit her, hers hit him, she gave him a scorching glare as she walked up to him, snatched her purse from the counter by the coffeemaker, turned smartly then started to walk back to the stairs.

Tripp was at the coffee table in the living room with his books. Devin was on the couch with his beer.

Before Rocky turned the corner, Layne announced loudly, “Boys, Roc and I are hittin’ the sack.”

Her body jerked and she tossed her head but, other than that, her heels on the tiles didn’t miss a beat.

From his place on the floor, Tripp looked at his old man over the back of the couch and Devin did it from his place on the couch.

Then Tripp called, “’Night Rocky,” like he’d been saying goodnight to her while she walked to his father’s bed since he could talk.

“Goodnight, Tripp,” Layne heard Rocky call back from the stairs.

“Donuts tomorrow, darlin’,” Dev added.

“Right, Dev. Goodnight,” Rocky’s voice was fading.

Tripp dropped his head and grinned at his books. Devin didn’t move and grinned at Layne. Layne prepared the coffee for the next morning and he prepared it so it’d make a big pot.

Then he walked to his cell phone on the counter, flipped it open and called Jasper.

Not surprisingly, it rang four times before Jasper answered with an impatient, “Yeah Dad?”

“Do me a favor, on the way home from droppin’ off Keira, stop at the store and pick up a toothbrush for Roc,” Layne told him.

There was a beat of silence then, impatience gone, a smile in his voice, Jasper replied, “Gotcha.”

“Be smart,” Layne said as good-bye and flipped the phone shut, placed it on the counter and called goodnight to his son and Devin as he walked up the stairs.

When he arrived in his room, Rocky was in his t-shirt and in his bed. She was sitting cross-legged, the covers were pulled up over her lap, she had the remote in her hand resting on her thigh, her eyes on the TV and her hair was out of the twist but it was now back in a ponytail, the ponytail full and wild from her hair being twisted up all day.

Her eyes came to him instantly and just as instantly she asked on a snap, “What do we need to talk about?”

Layne closed the doors behind him and walked to the dresser saying, “Jesus, sweetcheeks, give me a minute.”

“I’m tired,” she announced.

He pulled out a pair of pajama bottoms, looked to his watch, turned to her and said, “It’s ten to ten.”

“I go to sleep at ten o’clock every night, no fail or I’m crabby in the morning.”

She was so full of shit. He believed she went to bed at ten, she’d done that when she was with him. Rocky was early to bed and early to rise. But she was a morning person, always woke up in a good mood, even if she’d gone to bed late because she was studying or they were out.

“Give me a minute,” Layne repeated, turning to head into the bathroom.

“Is this going to take long?” she called after him.

“It will if you don’t give me a minute,” Layne called back then turned and stood in the large archway that led to the bathroom. “Though I could change in here.”

Her eyes shot to the TV as she mumbled, “I’ll give you a minute.”

Layne pressed his lips together to bite back his smile, walked through the bathroom and into the walk-in closet. Well out of Rocky’s sight, he pulled off his clothes, threw them in the direction of the laundry hamper Melody bought him, a hamper you couldn’t see because of the clothes piled on and around it, then he pulled up his pajamas. He went to the bathroom and brushed his teeth then he walked into his room.

Rocky’s eyes stayed glued to the TV as he rounded the bed and got in, shoving up the pillows, he settled with his back to them on the headboard, his body on top of the covers, legs stretched out in front of him and ankles crossed.

Even after he was in, Rocky didn’t tear her eyes from the TV.

“Can you mute that, sweetcheeks?” he requested

It took her a second to comply and when she did, her head turned to him but her body stayed facing the TV across the room from the foot of the bed.

She lifted her brows.

Layne smiled at her.

“Well?” she prompted.

“I need your help with something,” he told her.

“What?”

He slid down, rolled to his side toward her and put his head in his hand, his elbow into the pillows. Her body tensed as he did this and didn’t relax until he stopped moving.

“It’s about Gabby,” Layne told her and Rocky’s eyes got wide then, almost immediately, they blanked.

“What about Gabby?”

That’s when Layne told her about Stew and about Gabby, most everything about Stew and also a lot about Gabby. He didn’t leave much out including the fact that Gabrielle was living blind and acting desperate to keep hold of a shitheel of a man.

When he was done talking, she’d shifted so she had her body turned toward him, the remote in the bed beside her and her hands held loosely together in her lap. Her face had also grown soft and her eyes had grown warm.

“Poor Gabby,” she whispered.

“Yeah,” Layne whispered back.

“So what do you need my help with?” she asked.

“I gotta know how to play this,” Layne answered and her head tilted to the side in confusion.

“How to play it? Layne, you do what that Ryker guy said and make him pay through the nose and then get him behind bars.”

“I’m not Gabby’s favorite person, baby, she isn’t gonna thank me for getting involved.”

“She’ll understand especially when she understands. She’s a good Mom, Layne, she’ll want to make sure her boys are safe from that.”

“She might eventually understand, Roc, but we got Jas and Tripp in the middle of this, and, like I said, I’m not her favorite person and she’s gonna be pissed in order to hide the hurt and humiliation and she’s gonna take it out on me. When she gets pissed at me, sweetcheeks, she doesn’t do it privately. Jas and Tripp are gonna hear it, see it and they’re not gonna like it. They’ll feel it, they’ll feel for her, Jas already knows I’m steppin’ up for his Mom, he’s glad I’m doin’ it. Tripp’ll feel the same so they’ll get caught in the middle and it’s my job to try to cushion them from that shit.”

Layne watched as she took in a deep breath and, while letting it out, she fell to her side, stretched out and settled with her head in her hand, elbow in the pillow, facing Layne.

“You think you can keep your part in this whole thing quiet?” she asked.

“I can try but Gabby’s got a way of finding shit out. Tripp’s not in the know about me workin’ this but he’s also not dumb, not to mention, he’s learnin’ cool but he’s got a ways to go so he can run his mouth. He loves his Mom, he loves his old man, he’ll be happy I’m lookin’ out for her and he won’t get it that she won’t be happy. Shit happens and I gotta plan accordingly.”

She studied him a moment before she said softly, “Then you’re going to have to suck it up, Layne.”

Layne’s brows knitted. “Come again?”

“Earlier tonight, you told me you fucked up with your boys. Now, Gabrielle has done it. Everyone knows Stew’s a jerk, she knows it too, deep down. She knows she’s fucked up, bringing Stew into her sons’ life not to mention bringing him into hers. I don’t want to sound like a bitch, but all this boils down to her and the decisions she’s made. She’s the kind of person who has to take that out on someone, even if it’s unreasonable because that someone was only trying to look out for her and their kids, then that someone, namely you, is going to have to suck it up.”

He grinned at her. “Not sure you got much of a flair for reassurance, sweetcheeks.”

Rocky grinned back. “Sorry, did I miss that part of my job description?”

“Skipped right by it, baby.”

“I’ll take time tomorrow to review it,” she told him.

“That’d be appreciated.”

The grin changed to the point he got the dimple and Layne gave himself a moment to enjoy lying in bed facing Rocky and her dimple before he said softly, “I watch Letterman, baby, you gonna be able to sleep through that?”

The dimple faded and her face changed, showing him a hint of fear before she got her shields up and nodded and, if she hadn’t changed, she wasn’t lying. She went to bed at ten but Layne didn’t so it was more accurate to say she went to sleep at ten because most of the time she was stretched out on the couch with Layne watching TV and she fell asleep while he kept watching it. If she was really out, he’d carry her to bed but most of the time, when he moved, she woke up enough to stumble to their room, pull off her clothes, tug on one of his tees, collapse into bed and fall straight back to sleep.

“Pass me the remote,” Layne ordered and she rolled, coming back to him, she handed him the remote.

Then she stayed where she was, head in hand but her eyes directed down her body toward the TV. Layne rolled to his back and sat up, lifting his legs, whipping the covers out from under him and settling back against the headboard.