“Jas told me you and Roc aren’t fake anymore,” Tripp informed him and Layne pulled in a deep, silent breath.

Then he replied, “Thought you figured that out yourself.”

“I did, Jas just confirmed it, said you told him it wasn’t.”

“Well, it isn’t,” Layne confirmed it again.

Another beat of silence then, quietly, “I’m glad.”

He knew that but it was still good to hear it.

“That’s good, Pal,” Layne said quietly back, then, “I gotta go eat dinner.”

“Wish I was eatin’ Rocky’s food,” Tripp muttered, Layne knew that too and he grinned.

“Next week, Tripp.”

“Okay,” Tripp replied then called again, “Dad?”

“Right here, buddy.”

“I don’t know how to say this,” Tripp told him and the muscles in Layne’s neck got tight because Tripp sounded like he didn’t know how to say whatever he had to say but also that he didn’t want to say it.

“You can be straight with me on anything, you know that,” Layne returned.

“Well, it’s gonna sound stupid.”

“Nothin’ you say sounds stupid.”

“This will,” Tripp shot back.

“No, Tripp, it won’t. What’s on your mind?”

“It’s just…” he paused, “Rocky.”

Layne’s entire body got tight. “What about her?”

“I’m glad you got her back,” Tripp said on a rush and the tightness left Layne’s body but it stayed completely still as Tripp kept talking. “For you, ‘cause you’re my Dad but mostly for her.”

Layne was silent.

Tripp filled the silence. “Is that weird? I mean, you’re my Dad and I should –”

Layne cut him off. “It’s not weird.”

“I mean, I’m glad for you but Rocky –” Tripp was still talking fast.

“I get it, Pal,” Layne whispered.

“Is she…” Tripp hesitated, “is she going to be okay?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Because… well, I don’t know but when I talked with Giselle today, at first, she was bein’ weird and then I realized she thought I was mad at her and I felt bad because she felt bad and I didn’t want her to feel bad because she didn’t do anything wrong. And that got me to thinking that maybe Rocky, because of what happened with you guys a long time ago, would feel bad because she thought you were mad at her but that was big, bigger than what happened with Giselle and that… that kind of thing… well, I guess I just think it would be hard to let that go.”

Christ, but his kid was sharp.

“I’ve let it go, Pal,” Layne assured him.

“Has she?”

“We’re workin’ on it.”

“Good,” Tripp whispered.

“Got anything else on your mind?” Layne asked.

“No,” Tripp answered.

“World peace? Starving nations? The state of the economy?”

He heard Tripp’s laugh then, “No, Dad, jeez.”

“That shit starts weighin’ on you, boy, I’m only a phone call away.”

“Right, I’ll call when I start worryin’ about world peace,” Tripp returned.

“I gotta eat,” Layne told his son through a smile.

“All right, see you later.”

“Later,” Layne said then called, “Tripp?”

“Yeah, Dad?”

“Love you, Pal.”

“Love you too.”

“Later.”

“Later.”

Layne flipped his phone shut and turned to the door. He opened it and was assaulted with the fumes he’d left behind ten minutes ago. Chicken tacos. Rocky had been stewing the meat all day, anxious about Giselle and turning her mind to cooking rather than worrying so she’d put it on that morning before she headed over to his place. This was another recipe she’d perfected in their kitchen years ago. Stewing in the crockpot all day meant the meat would be tender and shredded and after cooking in its spices for the last hour, full of flavor.

Rocky was at the counter, her back to him and didn’t turn when she asked, “You need a fresh beer, baby?”

“I’ll get it,” Layne replied but he didn’t get it. He walked up to her back, fitted his front to it and slid his arms along her belly, looking over her shoulder to see she was grating cheese.

She didn’t stop grating when she noted, “Don’t keep beer in my stomach fridge, Layne.”

“Mm,” Layne replied through a smile, dropped his head and kissed her neck.

Then he lifted a hand, yanked her ponytail holder out and her hair tumbled to her shoulders.

She stopped grating and her neck twisted so she could glare at him. “Seriously, stop doing that.”

Layne was still smiling when he replied, “Seriously, no.”

Her eyes narrowed then she went smack into stare down. Layne held her stare as his other arm wound around her again and when he was done with the stare down, his arms tightened and he tickled the sensitive skin at her sides.

Her body jerked and twisted as her head shot back, her hands dropped the cheese and the grater, went to his wrists and put pressure on as she shouted through annoyed laughter, “Stop it, Layne!”

“Nope,” Layne returned.

“Stop!” she yelled, still twisting in his arms, putting pressure on his wrists and now she was giggling.

Layne was relentless and he kept at her because he missed this. He knew he missed it but having it back, hearing Rocky’s laughter, feeling her body against his, doing something normal like preparing to eat dinner together, he realized he didn’t miss it, he missed it.

And when that feeling threatened to overwhelm him, he stopped tickling her, his arms went around her tight and hard and he buried his face in the hair at her neck.

When he didn’t speak and after she controlled her body and laughter, she called, “Layne?”

“Right here, baby,” Layne said into her neck, not lifting his head but giving her a squeeze.

“Are you okay?”

“Oh yeah,” he replied.

Her body relaxed but her hands tightened on his wrists.

Then she asked, “Is Tripp okay?”

“Yeah.”

Her hands at his wrists slid along his arms so they were crossed on his.

“What are you doing?” she whispered.

He lifted his mouth to her ear and answered, “Nothin’, which means everything. I forgot that, I forgot how nothing meant everything.”