Golden Trail by Kristen Ashley Page A

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.
     
     

Chapter Five
    Imagination is a Powerful Thing
     
    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