All the Way (5 page)

Layla slumped against the couch as though he’d stolen her thunder.
She crossed her arms, refusing to look at him.
“I hate it when you’re right.”

“Excuse me?
I don’t think I heard you correctly.
Say that one more time.”

“You are right,” she forced out.
“I can’t do this without you.”

“Don’t worry, Layla, I’m a guy.
We don’t expect to hear those words from a woman more than once or twice a lifetime.
Thanks for doing the honors.
They sound all the sweeter coming from you.”
His grin made her eyes flash.

“And this trip sounds like my personal version of hell.”

Layla stood and rushed past him, as if she expected him to take her captive like some pirate, throw her over his shoulder and march her up to his cabin to have his way with her.
Maybe she knew him better than he thought.

When he finally got her into bed, it would satisfy what had become insatiable desire. Only this time, he would keep his heart from getting tangled in the process.

Blake followed Layla to the front door and watched her leave.
Propping the screen open with his foot, he folded his arms and leaned against the textured stucco of his Tudor home.
“So are you coming with me, or not?”

“I’m thinking about it.
I’ll call you later and let you know for sure.”

“Tonight?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Do you even remember my number?”

“Sure.”
She shrugged.
“Robby has you as number two on speed-dial.”

“Huh.
So was your speed-dial broken about this time last year?”

Layla paused on the brick walkway dividing his manicured lawn.
She turned.

The outdoor lanterns lining the path surrounded her in a warm amber glow, like outdoor candles. Deep crimson boughs from two Japanese maple trees draped like a canopy above. Light and shadow slid across her skin in a reverent dance. The breeze glided through her hair, sifting it like threads of silk. She looked suspended in a dream.
His breath stuck in his chest and it hurt like hell.

“No, Blake,” she said. “That isn’t what was broken.” Then she walked away.

Like a sea-swept drifter who finally caught sight of land, Blake’s intense gaze followed Layla’s outline until it merged with the darkness. He couldn’t explain what made his eyes linger on that place long after she disappeared.

Blake had no idea how long he stood there in the doorway staring at the empty darkness. It wasn’t until he heard acoustic guitar chords drifting to him that he realized he wasn’t alone in the house. It had to be Tanner.

He closed the screen door, but turned the porch light on and left the front door wide open. Stupid habit, one he really needed to quit, except he couldn’t bring himself to shut her out. Or shut out the hope that it might strike her to turn around and come back to him.

Yeah, right
.

He left it open anyway.

Retracing his steps through the living room, toward the kitchen, he followed the gentle strumming until he stood outside on the back stoop. Tanner sat on the concrete at his feet playing his six-string.

His brother paused and looked up at him, arched an eyebrow, then went back to strumming.

Blake wondered, “What are you still doing here? What happened to the girl?”

“Hey—I’ve got priorities. Booty calls are definitely in the top five.” Tanner grinned, then sobered. “But family comes first. I stuck around. Thought you might need to talk.”

Blake lifted a shoulder. “Nothing to say.”

His brother struck a sour chord that made him cringe. Tanner said, “So if I went inside right now, I wouldn’t see the front door open to the screen, the porch light on…just in case she needs anything.”

Blake scowled at him. “So what if it is?”

“So what?” His voice boomed through the shadow-darkened back yard. “If it’s no big deal, then why don’t you tell her about all the times you left that door open for her in the past year?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Bad timing.”

“It always is.” Tanner shook his head, stopped strumming. “So let me guess. You didn’t clear up what went on between you and Jack Johnson, the night she accused you of leaving her.”

“Nope.”

“Quit the one-syllable answers and remember who you’re talking to.” Tanner set the guitar aside. “She needs to—deserves to—know the truth, man. This is the first time I’ve seen you two civil with each other since last year. You think it’s a coincidence you’re getting a second chance to set the record straight with her, exactly a year after it all fell apart?”

Blake threw his arms wide. “What am I supposed to say? ‘Gee, Layla, I know we’ve done nothing but fight or ignore each other for twelve months, but I’ve decided to spill my guts to you, even though you won’t believe a word I say.’ Yeah, sounds tempting.”

Tanner rose from the stoop and stood eye to eye with him. “Then Jack wins. And you still look like the jerk.”

“I’m the jerk for protecting Rob after Johnson threatened to report his curfew break?” Blake shot back.

“No.” Tanner stared at him calmly. “But that’s how it still looks to Layla until you set the record straight. Tell her Johnson forced you to back down. Tell her he blackmailed you by threatening to send Rob to some detention center—if you didn’t walk away from her.”

Blake ran a hand down his face and his heart sank in his chest. “I never should’ve done it.”

“You did what was right for Rob.”

“And lost Layla.”

“Maybe if you’d told her the truth, you could’ve a second chance with her.”

“You’re forgetting one thing. She hates me.”

“If she felt nothing, she wouldn’t bother arguing with you all the time.”

“Thanks. I feel much better.”

“Listen,” Tanner said, shoving his hands in his pockets, “you and I have our own good reasons to hate that guy, but Layla doesn’t know the whole story. Yeah, he’s mental, but he’s also the one who gave her something to believe in. Have you done anything since last year to redeem yourself in her eyes?”

Blake shook his head wearily. “The night of our huge fight, after Johnson showed up, I made things worse by leaving with you for Sturgis. I’d hoped that by the time I got back things would’ve blown over. Number one on the list of Blake’s worst ideas.”

Tanner shrugged. “We all make mistakes.”

“I tried calling her when I got back. She went off on me. But she said Rob was right there, so she couldn’t talk anymore about what happened. She didn’t want to fight in front of him.”

“That’s fair.”

“Still, I wanted to talk face to face, not over the phone. It’s just that every time I came by to see her, guess whose patrol car was always in the driveway?”

Tanner offered him a sympathetic look. Blake clenched his fists, fighting to keep his voice level, his emotions under control. When all he wanted to do was pop off the lid to the box in his chest where he’d stuffed his feelings for her during the past year.

He continued, “When that cop car became a permanent fixture at her place, it was obvious who she chose.” Feelings rose up in him, memories, regret. “I had no idea that he’d been after her longer than we’d known each other. No idea he’d take Layla away from me, or that she’d go so willingly. She gave up on what we had without a glance backward.”

“You did warn her about Johnson.”

Barely hearing his brother’s words, Blake bowed his head. “It’s so clear now. I never should’ve left her that night. I should’ve taken my chances with Johnson, instead of putting the pressure on Layla.”

“Putting the pressure on your relationship,” Tanner corrected. “You trusted that your bond was stronger than a missing brother, a fight, a two-week hiatus, and a vengeful cop.”

Blake inhaled a lungful of muggy night air. “But that’s why I took it slow with her. I knew she wasn’t used to counting on someone else. Trust isn’t exactly Layla’s strong point.”

“You didn’t try, even once, to get her back? What about the time you confronted Johnson, a few months after that?”

“That was for the bruise I found on Rob’s arm,” he replied, his body tensing with the memory.
“I left a nice mark for Jack’s face to remember me by. He tried to nail me for assault, and when that fell through he told me he’d threaten Layla next. I’d never forgive myself if something happened to her. Something I could’ve prevented.” Blake shook his head. “I’ve let it go too long with Layla. There’s too much to say and no more reason to say it. Why drag something out of the past that’s better off buried and forgotten?”

“Forgotten, huh?” Moonlight filtering through the trees overhead reflected a sparkle of amusement in Tanner’s eyes. “So leaving your front door open for her—still—is your idea of forgetting about her?”

Blake opened his mouth to defend that, but found himself neatly trapped.

Having lost that round, Blake leaned a hip against the back porch railing. He crossed his arms and stared at the tended beds of the backyard garden, where the odor of fresh mulch still lingered. “Point taken.”

Tanner sighed. “I’m not here to make a point. I just want you to be happy again, like you were with Layla. You haven’t been the same since you two split. It won’t hurt to tell her the truth. That way she can decide whose side to take. Yours or Johnson’s.”

Without lifting his gaze, Blake replied softly, “Maybe I’m better off not knowing.”

“Is that why you’ve avoided telling her?”

Blake’s chest tightened painfully. “If she goes with Johnson’s story in the end, I…it would kill me, man. And why should she believe me, anyway? I let her down.”

“Give her a choice. If you trust her to handle the truth, it might make her more inclined to see your side of things.”

“Maybe.” Blake released a troubled sigh and shoved his hands in his pockets. “We’ll have plenty of time to talk. We’re leaving together for Sturgis tomorrow—if she says yes. I invited her to come along for the ride.”

Tanner’s eyebrows jumped high on his forehead. “She’s going with you?”

“She believes Rob’s involved with some gang. If she’s right, my bet is they’re heading for Sturgis. There’s no way I’m letting her go there by herself. And if Rob has gotten in over his head, then he’ll need us both to get him out.”

“I take it that means I’m not riding up with you this year.”

Blake offered an apologetic look. “Not this time.” He rubbed the back of his neck as he added, “Although,
Layla and I could probably use a mediator, riding together four days there and then four back.”

“No way.” Tanner held up both hands. “You two are on your own. But if you need any help with Rob, call me. I’ll keep my cell phone on.”

“Thanks, man. I appreciate being able to count on you. And thanks for sticking around tonight.”

“You can return the favor by promising me one thing. By the end of the trip, Layla will know your side of the story.”

Blake scuffed the square toe of his boot against the cement several times before he looked up. “I’ll find a way to tell her the truth.”

Nodding, Tanner said quietly, “However much there is to say is up to you.”

Tanner slapped his shoulder before he went inside. Blake remained where he was. A blanket of apprehension wrapped around him. He stared at the shadows sprawling over the back yard, thoughts and feelings tangling inside him. Thick summer night air filled his lungs,
felt heavy in his chest.

It wasn’t until much later that it occurred to him he ought to shut the front door. And that maybe the truth—all of it, including the things he should’ve told her, the feelings he’d never shared—could close the door to their painful past once and for all.

*

Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Layla berated herself as she traipsed along the sidewalks that led to her house a few blocks away from Blake’s.

Why did she have to blurt out that it wasn’t her speed-dial that had been broken when Blake left her? What had possessed her to admit he had any influence over her heart whatsoever?

She wouldn’t give him that power again. She refused to let him trample all over her emotions with his big biker boots twice. The first time was miserable enough. She didn’t need more misery in her life.

What she did need right now was an unbiased second opinion.

Instead of following Rosewood Street to Redfield Road, which led to the cross-section of Thayne and Sylvan where she and Robby lived in the corner house, Layla cut through Mrs. Haverson’s side yard. That’s when she heard the eerie sound of tires rolling slowly over street grit.

A prickle of warning sent Layla into the shadow of the Haverson house.
Pressed up against the siding, she peered at the car prowling down the street, its driver scanning, watching, waiting.
Once it passed the driveway, where she stood cloaked in darkness, the car sped to the stop sign, hung a sharp left and peeled off.

The vehicle resembled those used as unmarked police cars, but it took off before she could check the make and model.
That’s weird
.

Layla shook off the uncomfortable feeling that stood the hair of her neck on end.
She continued through a series of unfenced backyards, stepping around the Medow’s tree house ladder and navigating the Bryson’s minefield of Bigwheels and Barbie trikes.

Finally she arrived at the front door of her best friend Kristin’s house and rang the bell.
The door whipped open and Kristin stood in her pink sheep-print jammies, her curly red hair piled on her head, and a popcorn bowl in one arm.

She grinned at Layla.
“Look at you, hoochie mama, dressed in red heels and leather.
Come on in!
You’re just in time for the ancient
Friends
rerun where Ross and Rachel finally admit they’re madly in love.”

Layla rolled her eyes.
Spare me
. “I can’t stay long, Krissy.”

“What’s wrong?”

“You mean besides everything?”

Offering a sympathetic sigh, Kristin hauled Layla inside, sat her on the couch and set the popcorn bowl between them. Hitting the mute button on the television, she cocked her head and narrowed one eye. “Something is different about you. You’ve got that flush-cheeked, sparkle-eyed,
I just got laid
look. Who’s the lucky guy?”

“No one got lucky.
I came to tell you about my nightmare with Blake Desanto.”

Kristin grabbed a couch cushion to keep from falling backward.
“No way.
Now it makes sense—the look.”

“I told you, nothing happened.”

“
Something
happened.”
Her eyes lit up like searchlights skilled at uncovering prime gossip. Then she gasped dramatically. “You guys got it on, didn’t you?”

“Oh, will you stop. We only kissed…twice.”

“
Twice
.”

“But the second time his brother barged in on us, thankfully—”

“Did you melt with all that hot male sensuality in the room?”
Kristin exhaled a wistful sigh, looking into the distance at some fantasy visual before her gaze snapped back to Layla. “Then what happened?”