“Lots of people need to see and lots of places to be seen.”

“Is there something you’re not telling me?”

Yes, there was something he wasn’t telling her. She knew they were going to Swank’s but had no idea Astley was there and he wasn’t going to tell her now.

“Just trust me, Roc, I know what I’m doin’.”

There was a beat of silence then another sigh then another, “All right.”

He turned off the Circle, found Swank’s and stopped out front, rounded the hood and handed the keys to the valet, taking a ticket. Rocky waited for him, he put a hand in the small of her back and led her into the restaurant.

The hostess smiled warmly at him and before they even made it to her station, where he could, say, give his name, she announced, “Your table’s all ready.” Rocky looked at her in surprise then looked at Layne but the hostess was rounding the station and motioning with an arm to a man standing there. “Your coat.”

Layne took Rocky’s coat from her and got a good look at the full back of her dress, or, more appropriately, the lack of it. He was right. Completely bare. Straight down to the top of her ass. Fuck.

She unwrapped her scarf, he took it and handed them off to the man waiting. The man gave Layne another slip of paper to go with the one from the valet, Layne tucked it in his inside jacket pocket and moved behind Rocky as she followed the hostess who was carrying menus.

Layne knew the instant she saw him because she stopped dead and he almost ran into her. He didn’t hesitate and put his hand on the skin at the small of her back and pushed her forward.

“Layne –” she started, walking forward because he was pushing her at the same time she was pressing back.

“Let’s get to the table, sweetcheeks, I’m f**kin’ starved.”

He noted as he spoke that the hostess had done well. They were in an alcove that held only two two-top booths, either side, separated by about five feet. Astley and some brunette with her back to the restaurant on one side. An empty booth on the other. Fucking perfect.

“Layne –” Rocky said again, turning to him.

They’d made it to the area that separated the booths and he hooked an arm around her neck and pulled her into his side. She tipped her head back to look at him, her face was pale and her eyes were huge.

“I learned early, baby, not to make you wait to get fed.” He touched his mouth to hers. “Do me the same courtesy, yeah?” he asked then looked at the hostess and announced, “My baby likes her food.”

“Layne –” Rocky repeated, her body tight as a bow about to snap and the alcove was thick with tension and not just Rocky’s.

“Sit, sweetcheeks.” He maneuvered her to the seat facing the restaurant which was what he’d do in normal circumstances. The woman should always have the best seat and it was better facing the restaurant and being able to see the activity than having your back to the room. He noticed that Astley didn’t afford that consideration to his woman but Layne did it for Rocky even though the better strategic position was to have his back to the wall, Rocky facing him, which meant Astley would find it difficult not to look at her for, if he turned his head, she’d be in his line of sight.

He pushed her down in her side of the narrow booth thinking, for the first time, he was glad she was wearing that dress. No man seeing Rocky in that dress could be unaffected by it. Layne wasn’t the only proof of that. Every man she passed while walking through the restaurant stared at her while she did it.

He sat down as Rocky leaned forward and hissed, “Layne, listen to –”

He tilted his head back and said to the hostess, “Can you help me out and get me a beer?”

“Absolutely,” she replied on a smile, opening a menu and handing it to Rocky who took it automatically. “We have a wide selection. Would you like to see a list?”

“Nope.” He smiled at her. “You pick. Only two requirements. American and cold.”

She nodded, still smiling, handed him his open menu and looked to Rocky. “Do you know what you’d like to drink?”

“Montepulciano,” she said instantly. “A large one.”

Layne looked down at his menu and grinned.

The hostess took off.

“Layne!” she snapped, her voice bordering on shrill.

“Yeah baby?” he asked back, not lifting his head from the menu and before she could say anything, he went on. “You’ve been here, what’s good? I hope the portions aren’t crap. I could eat an entire pan of Jas’s pasta bake.”

“Layne!” she repeated but Layne felt him before he said a word and Layne looked up and to the side to see Astley standing there. His hair was dark blonde, nearly brown, only hints of gray. His eyes were hazel. He was tall, straight and slim. Layne could tell, even under his expensive suit, the man was fit. But he wasn’t fit in a bulky, powerful way. He was fit in an active, healthy way.

“Fuck me,” Layne muttered like he was surprised but he was fighting a grin.

“Charming,” Astley replied, giving Layne a look to kill then his eyes sliced to Rocky and he greeted through thinned lips, “Rocky.”

“Jarrod,” she replied, her lips weren’t thin, they were soft, her face was still pale but with her makeup, her hair, that dress, even with her skin pale, she was a freaking knockout.

“It seems we’re practically dinner partners,” he remarked, edging a bit to the side to indicate his meaning and Layne turned his head to see Merry wasn’t wrong. Rocky’s double was sitting across from them. She didn’t have the blonde streaks in her hair and her hair wasn’t as long. She was definitely younger but the poise wasn’t there and he knew that even though she was sitting. She also didn’t have Rocky’s style. He could tell she had a great body but it was just on the wrong side of too toned and her tits were fake. He knew the last because she was wearing a dress that barely covered them.

Definitely didn’t have Rocky’s style.

The minute their eyes turned her way, hers shot down to her plate.

“Perhaps you can ask the hostess to seat you at a different table?” Astley suggested and Layne looked up at him to see the man’s gaze turned his way.

Then he twisted in his seat, looked at the packed restaurant and back to Astley. “I’m not thinkin’ that’s gonna work, big guy.”

“I’m certain something will open up,” Astley pressed.