“You didn’t tell me you were comin’ to the Station,” he informed her.
“I –” she started, belatedly struggling by pushing her neck against his arm.
Before she could say another word, he looked at Rutledge.
“Best thing that happened to me, gettin’ shot, man, I cannot tell you.” He grinned at Rutledge as Rutledge’s mouth dropped right open, Rocky’s body turned to stone and then he looked back down at Rocky who was now glaring at him, her eyes full of fire. “Reunited me with Roc,” he muttered to her then looked back at Rutledge. “Take another three bullets if I knew that was what I was gonna get.” He kept grinning. “Luckily I didn’t have to.” He again looked at Rocky and asked softly, “Did I, baby?”
“You –” she began, her eyes sparking, beyond pissed and he dipped his head again and brushed his mouth on hers.
He lifted his head and saw the fire in her eyes was muted and she had fallen silent.
He looked back at Rutledge. “Never know what life’s gonna bring. Lyin’ there, blood oozin’ out of me, thinkin’ that’s the end and, weeks later, I find out it’s actually the beginning. You get what I mean?”
Rutledge kept staring at him, seemingly frozen, then his eyes darted back and forth between Rocky and Layne and he nodded.
“Holy fuck,” Layne heard muttered and he looked beyond Rutledge to see Sully had arrived, coming up the backstairs, he was standing just beyond Rutledge’s desk and he was staring at Rocky and Layne.
“Yo, Sul,” Layne greeted and Sully’s body jerked. Then his eyes darted between Rocky and Layne.
They finally stopped before he gave himself a seizure and then he greeted back, “Layne, buddy, Rocky, um… hey.”
Rocky moved in his arms like she was trying to turn toward Sully but his arms locked tighter and she was interrupted when they heard Colt coming.
“Yeah, Feb, honey, do me a favor and…” Layne heard and his eyes moved to see Colt walking toward Sully, his attention diverted, he was on the phone with his wife, February.
Colt’s head turned, he caught sight of Rocky and Layne and stopped so abruptly he looked like he’d hit a wall.
Layne stifled a laugh.
Rocky’s body got even tighter in his arms.
“Shit, Feb, I’ll call you back,” Colt muttered into his phone and immediately flipped it shut, his eyes never leaving Rocky and Layne. “Tanner, hey, what’s up?”
“Came to talk to you and Sul but Roc showed so now I’m gonna take my woman for a coffee. I’ll come back. You gonna be around?” Layne answered.
“Your woman?” Sully whispered but Colt didn’t speak. His brows shot up and his eyes shot to Rocky.
“Yeah,” Layne answered Sully like a kid would say, “Duh”. “You gonna be around in an hour?”
“Um… sure,” Sully replied.
“Great, be back,” Layne said and then he nodded to Colt then to Rutledge then he turned Rocky toward the stairs.
She yanked her neck out of his hold on the stairs but surprisingly didn’t pull her hand from his when he captured it. She stayed stiff but silent and unresisting as they walked out of the Station and down the two blocks to Mimi’s Coffee Shop.
He knew she was pissed but he didn’t know the intensity of it until they hit Mimi’s and he started to stop them but she tugged his hand and kept walking.
Layne wanted her in Mimi’s. Mimi’s was a public place where he had the possibility of keeping her under control.
Rocky, however, had no intention whatsoever of going to Mimi’s and unless he wanted to drag her in there kicking and screaming, he had no choice but to follow.
She didn’t go far. She stopped outside the door to his office, the brass plaque next to it saying “Tanner Layne Investigations”, yanked her hand from his and lifted her other hand. Her eyes cut to him and they were scorching. Opened palmed, she slapped the door and then jerked her head at the knob.
He watched her thinking he’d forgotten this too, though, seeing her face he wondered how the fuck he did. She didn’t get pissed often but when she did, she got pissed. Sometimes, he’d be pissed too, because they were fighting. But if he wasn’t pissed, and she was, he invariably made her more pissed because she was cute as hell when she was angry and he didn’t shy away from informing her of that fact.
Like now.
“Jesus, Roc, forgot how cute you get when you’re pissed.”
Her eyes narrowed and her shoulders jerked.
“Open the door, Layne,” she bit off.
He grinned, turned to the door, pulled his keys out of his pocket and unlocked it. He opened it, swung his torso in and punched in the code to the alarm.
He was still doing this as she was on the move. He felt her push the door open wider and he felt her move in behind him. Then he heard her heels hit the steps. He moved in, the door closing behind him, and stopped at the bottom so he could watch her ass as she climbed the stairs. When she got to the top, turned, looked down at him while she crossed her arms on her chest, he figured he probably better move.
He jogged up the steps, unlocked that door, walked to the alarm panel and punched in that code too. She walked in behind him, again he could hear her heels on the wood floors. He heard her stop and slam something down on the receptionist’s desk that no receptionist sat at, probably her purse, and he turned to her.
She stood several feet inside the room, facing him, and he could feel the heat from her eyes even at a distance.
“Roc –” he started but she moved.
Coming right at him, she did it smart, not making her intention clear until the last second so he almost didn’t deflect the punch she threw. But he got his hand up, his forearm catching her wrist, he pushed it back, using the momentum of her arm and his strength, he whirled her so her back was to his front at the same time he captured her arm and wrapped it around her belly.
She yanked back her other elbow and caught him in the ribs hard enough to make him grunt at the shaft of pain through his midsection before he caught that wrist too and wrapped it around with her other arm.
That was when she lifted a knee and he knew he’d either have a high, thin heel in his shin or his foot and he didn’t hanker after either so he bent sharply backward, taking her off her feet. She let out a strangled, angry cry and twisted in his arms but he kept hold of her, righted himself and swung her lower body to the side as he took two strides to his couch. He was sitting and he’d maneuvered her in his lap when she pressed back, her hips and legs flying up to power kick out of his arms but he went down with her and rolled over her so she was on her back on the couch and he was on top of her.
He gave her some his weight, tangled his legs with hers to incapacitate them and caught her wrists, which were at his chest, her hands shoving up, and he pulled them out from between them and pressed them into the couch at the sides of her head. This gave her his full weight. He knew he was heavy but he was making a point.
She got his point so she switched to verbal battle. “Get off me!”
“Not until you calm down.”
Her eyes caught his, her back arched and she hissed, “Get… off… me!”
“Calm down, Raquel.”
“Fuck you, Layne!” she screamed.
Layne went silent. He rarely heard much from Mimi’s downstairs but, then again, people weren’t usually screaming at the top of their lungs while ordering coffee.
She stayed silent too for five very long seconds.
Then she accused, “You’re crushing me.”
“And I’ll keep doin’ it, sweetcheeks, until I know you won’t take another swing at me.”
“Stop calling me sweetcheeks,” she hissed.
He put his face in hers and whispered, “Rocky, you got two sets of cheeks. One of them has one dimple, the other has two and you gotta know I remember both bein’ sweet.”