It was pathetic, but sometimes it felt like he was watching her move farther and farther ahead while he slowly disappeared in her dust trail.
Jayson pushed those selfish, whiny thoughts behind him. This night was about Layla, not him and his screwed-up insecurities.
"How about you?" she asked. "Anything on the job front?"
He shook his head. Jobs were kind of slim for a guy with nothing but a military history degree, a screwed-up back, and a requirement to miss work three times a week for physical therapy. Layla was doing everything she could to help, but she hadn't had much luck, either.
She reached across the small table and gave his hand a squeeze. "We'll find something soon."
Jayson hoped she was right. He was still drawing a full lieutenant's paycheck for now. But as soon as his medical retirement was finalized, his military pay would disappear and he'd be left with nothing but his VA 60 percent disability pay-barely over a thousand dollars a month. He had a pretty good amount of money in savings, most of which he'd inherited from his parents, but he couldn't depend on that. He'd need a job soon, or Layla might be visiting him in a homeless shelter.
"I had another run-in with Ivy today," Layla said suddenly.
Jayson winced at the hurt tone in her voice. Unfortunately, this was one area he definitely couldn't help her with because he didn't have a clue why Ivy had been such a jerk since Layla had started working at the DHS.
"Did she actually say anything this time or just shoot you one of those glares of hers that could melt steel?"
Most of Layla's run-ins with her sister had been of the latter variety. Ivy and Landon had been out of the country when Layla had gotten the job at the DHS, but the moment Ivy had learned her sister would be working at the same organization as she was, she'd lost it. Since then, there had been a few biting words, but mostly just of lot of glaring. The only time Ivy had been even remotely friendly to Layla was when they'd all gotten together at their parents' home for Christmas, and that was only because Ivy hadn't wanted their mom and dad to know they were fighting.
"Yeah, she said something all right." Layla sighed. "That I was wasting all the money Mom and Dad had spent sending me to college."
Even after all the crap said back and forth over the last few months, that caught Jayson by surprise. "What the hell was the purpose of that, some kind of emotional blackmail?"
Layla shrugged. "Probably. She couldn't get me to quit any other way, so I suppose she thought pulling Mom and Dad into this might help."
"I really don't understand this." Across from him, Layla was looking longingly at the other burrito in the casserole dish. "Go ahead. You can have it." He almost laughed when she eagerly transferred it to her plate. Where the heck did a woman her size put all the food she ate? "I mean, you found a job that you love, that pays well, and where you get a chance to use the skills you learned in school. Plus, you're helping people. What else does she want? It's not like you're strapping people down to a table and waterboarding them or anything. What's her problem?"
"I think she's worried I'm going to end up in the field," Layla said, "and that scares her."
Jayson lifted a brow. "You, a field operative? Seriously? You're a shrink. Why the heck would she think the DHS would put you in the field?"
Layla's head snapped up, and for a moment, he was reminded that she was indeed Ivy's sister. The look she was giving him right now could have stripped paint off a car at ten feet. But just as fast, it was gone, replaced by one of indifference.
"I don't know." She shrugged. "Maybe I'm just reading the situation wrong."
She was stonewalling. Whether it was because the subject was classified or simply because it involved her sister, Layla wasn't telling him the whole story-again.
Layla finished cutting the burrito, then pushed her plate to the center of the table, so they could share. When he gave her a curious look, she smiled. "I want to make sure I save room for dessert."
More likely, she was simply being nice. She could have easily put away the whole thing if she'd wanted. She just liked sharing food with him. As they each took turns eating bites off her plate, Jayson certainly wasn't going to complain. Sharing could definitely be fun.
Layla moved her chair closer to his, and they huddled together as they ate the tres leches cake with strawberries he'd been forced to buy from the bakery down the street because he knew there was no way he'd ever be able to make it himself. Every time their shoulders or arms made contact, it sent little zaps of electricity shooting across his body. Damn, he had it bad.
He was still thinking about that when Layla put down her fork, then leaned in close and planted a warm, soft kiss on his cheek. Yeah, it was only a kiss on the cheek, but it still felt damn nice.
"What was that for?" he asked.
She gave him a smile that just about stopped his heart. "No reason. Can't a girl kiss her guy after he went to so much trouble cooking a special dinner for her?"
He lifted a brow. "You realize that I bought the cake at the bakery, right?"
She whacked his arm. "Stop. It was a perfect dinner. Very romantic. And I loved it."
Without another word, Layla kissed him again, this time right on the lips. Damn, she tasted frigging amazing.
The kiss lingered for only a moment before Layla pulled back. "Why don't we toss everything in the dishwasher, so we can move this over to the couch?"
Jayson would have said the hell with the dishes, but Layla was so responsible. She did most of the work, while he took care of the stuff that had to go back in the fridge. And he was able to handle it without moving too horribly slowly or twinging his back.
Once they hit the couch-a big, comfy job that his back absolutely loved-Layla snuggled up close and gave him another kiss on the cheek. "Thanks again for dinner."
"You're welcome," he said.
Layla's lips moved from his cheek back to his mouth. He slid his fingers in her long hair and pulled her closer as he deepened the kiss. God, her kisses were like a drug he could get really addicted to.
They had made out a few times before this, but it had never been very serious-more like curious friends than lovers. But it was getting serious now, especially when Layla decided it would be easier to kiss him if she was straddling his lap. In a graceful move that would've put a cat to shame, she swung one leg over both of his and settled herself comfortably on his crotch-all without breaking their kiss.
His cock immediately took notice of the sudden warmth parked just above him, perking up enough to suggest that maybe his doctors at Walter Reed had been right and that none of the nerve damage he'd sustained during his back injury had affected his ability to have normal sex. He'd never quite believed them, since he hadn't had the opportunity to test out their claims. Hell, he couldn't even remember getting a hard-on since his accident.
But as Layla wiggled back and forth on his lap while they kissed, her skirt riding a little higher up her thighs, the heat from her panty-covered pussy engulfing his cock through his jeans, he had to admit he was starting to get a nice erection now.
Apparently Layla noticed too, because the grinding she was doing couldn't have been by accident.
Both her hands cradled the back of his head; all ten of her eager fingers weaved tightly into his hair. Jayson couldn't stop himself from letting his mouth drift sideways, following the line of her jaw until he reached her ear, then letting his tongue taste her there.
The half purr, half moan that escaped her lips was the sexiest sound he'd ever heard, and he had a sudden desire to make her do both a whole lot more. He imagined carrying her to his bed, yanking off her clothes, and licking her all over until she went insane from the pleasure, then burying himself deep inside her and riding her hard as those beautiful, strong legs of hers wrapped themselves around his waist, urging him for even more.
The brakes slammed down on that vision real quick, and reality came crashing in with a seriously painful thud.
He couldn't do any of those things, he realized suddenly. His screwed-up back would never let him make love to Layla like that-ever.
And with that realization, all the fire and excitement he'd been feeling dissolved as if someone had dumped a bucket of cold water on him.
Layla obviously picked up on that because she drew back to look at him. "Jayson, are you okay? Did I hurt you or something?"