Wild Boys - Heath by Melissa Foster
“You have us nailed perfectly, but one day we’ll surprise you,” Heath said.
His mother reached over and felt her way along the cushion until her fingers met his leg, and she patted his thigh. “Sweetie, you boys surprise me every day.” She turned her attention to Ally. “Getting back to our conversation, you work in the lab? Do you enjoy it?”
“Yes, very much so. Every day moves faster than the one before, and I really enjoy the patient contact.” She thought about an elderly gentleman she’d taken blood from earlier that afternoon and how grumpy he’d been when she’d come into the room. He’d been in the hospital two weeks earlier, and Ally empathized with his displeasure at being stuck with another needle. He’d reminded her of her father, and when she’d noticed a book by her father’s favorite author on the nightstand, she’d been able to put him at ease by discussing what her father liked about the author’s writing style. He was smiling when she left, and she felt as though she’d brought a little sunshine to his bleak afternoon.
The roar of a motorcycle sounded out front.
“Sounds like Jackson is here,” Mary Lou said. “I think he’s got something on his mind lately, but whatever it is, he’s keeping it close to his chest.”
“Jackson always has something on his mind.” Heath rose as the front door flew open and a tall, handsome man strutted in wearing a leather jacket and a major case of helmet head. He shook his head like a puppy shakes off rain and then ran a hand through thick dark hair. He set the helmet he carried on a table by the door and lifted dark blue eyes to Heath, then shifted his gaze to Ally. A smile spread across his scruffy cheeks.
“Looks like I’m just in time for the party,” Jackson said as he crossed the room. His jeans were tight across his hips, and the black biker boots he wore clunked on the hardwood floor. He held a hand out in greeting. “I’m Jackson. Heath’s favorite brother.”
Heath scoffed, but his smile told Ally that this was a familiar tease.
“Hi. I’m Ally.” His hand was strong and firm, like Heath’s.
“Nice to meet you.” Jackson walked around the couch and leaned down to kiss Mary Lou’s cheek. “Hi, Ma. Do you mind if I poke around the attic?”
“The attic? Whatever for?” she asked with a wrinkled brow.
“Remember that box of pictures I had from when Dad bought me my first camera?” Jackson asked. “The ones I developed in my darkroom?”
“You mean the ones you developed in the bathroom?” A sweet smile crossed her lips. “Sure, baby. Go ahead.”
“Cool deal.” He turned toward Heath. “Where are you guys heading tonight?”
“My place,” Heath answered.
“Sounds fun. Remember, the invitation is open for you guys to join us at Remington’s show in a few weeks. Ally might enjoy meeting a famous sculptor like Sage Remington up close and personal.” Jackson smirked, and Ally knew he’d thrown that jab in about Sage Remington, one of the hottest, and best-looking, sculptors out there, just to annoy Heath.
She liked seeing the way Heath grimaced at the taunt.
“Thanks. Maybe we’ll do that. Jackson is a photographer,” Heath explained. “He’s taking the promotional photos for Sage Remington’s exhibit.” He turned back to Jackson. “What are you going to do with the pictures?”
Jackson smiled. “I’m making a birthday present for Laney.” He pointed to the stairs. “I’m heading up. Nice to meet you, Ally. Mom, you need anything from the attic?” Erica Lane had been Jackson’s best friend since elementary school.
“No, honey. Thank you.”
Jackson took the stairs two at a time, and Mary Lou let out a breath as she settled back again.
“So much for stealth,” Mary Lou said. “Wow, he sounded more like Cooper than himself, didn’t he? He must be up to something mischievous.”
Ally smiled at the way she took her sons all in stride.
They talked for a while longer about Ally’s family and were interrupted when Jackson came back downstairs with a big box of photos and set them on the coffee table.
“Who wants to see Heath’s teenage years?” Jackson’s eyes lit up, and Ally wanted to dive right in.
“Christ. Really, Jackson?” Heath scrubbed his hand down his face.
“Oh, honey.” Mary Lou reached for him. “You have always been such a handsome devil.”
Ally raised her brows and flashed Heath a flirtatious smile. He was handsome, and he was devilish in the bedroom. As she sank to the floor beside the coffee table and Jackson began handing her pictures of Heath and each of his brothers at various ages, Heath sat in the recliner behind her and spread his knees so she was sitting between them.
Mary Lou sat forward and lifted her chin. Ally knew she was listening for clues as to what they saw, and she ached with empathy for what Mary Lou would never have again: she was a mother no longer able to see the faces of the people she loved. Of course, working in a hospital gave her great perspective. Being blind had its hardships, but it wasn’t cancer, which could steal a life without warning. At least Mary Lou was still here to spend time with her sons.
Being in Heath’s childhood home and seeing photographs of his father on the wall and in the hutch by the dining room table would have been enough perspective on its own. Heath’s mother had survived that horrible attack. Perspective was great, but it didn’t lessen the sense of loss that Ally wondered if Mary Lou felt.
“I’m going to share these with your mom,” she said quietly to Heath. She selected a handful of pictures and joined Mary Lou on the couch.
“Maybe you can help me figure out who each of the boys are in the pictures. I can recognize Heath by his expressive eyes, but I’m having trouble with the others.”
“Thank you. I’ll try. I’ve looked at these photos so many times through the years, I probably have most of them memorized.”
Ally selected one of the pictures and handed it to Mary Lou. “This one has three teenagers. I know the one on the far left is Heath because he has a serious look in his eyes that I’ve seen quite often. I recognize your driveway, and Heath has on a pair of jeans and a striped shirt, which looks a little Bert and Ernie to me.” She chuckled and looked up at Heath, who was gazing at her with so much love she wondered if Jackson and his mother could feel the emotion rolling off of him.
Jackson was stacking pictures beside the box. He followed Ally’s gaze and shook his head. Obviously he could feel the love rolling off of Heath, and surprisingly, instead of being embarrassed, she loved it. Heath didn’t react, but his lips curved in a sweet smile meant for Ally.
“He loved that shirt, and his brothers used to tease him relentlessly. It was his lucky shirt. One of his father’s old shirts.” Mary Lou leaned closer to Ally. “Does the shirt sort of hang off of him, like it’s too big in the shoulders?”
“Yes, a little bit.”
Mary Lou pressed her lips together and tilted her chin up, as if she were trying to remember something. “He was probably a junior in high school. He had a growth spurt that year and his father’s shirts fit him a little better.”
“That’s about how old he looks. The other two boys are smiling. One has longer hair—it covers his ears—but the other is very clean-cut. Almost like he’d just come from the barber. They’re both wearing jeans and sneakers.”
“Their shirts, honey? What do they look like? The boys have always had very distinct taste.”
“If it’s a band shirt, it’s probably me,” Jackson said.
“Yes, one is a black shirt with an AC/DC logo. Is that you, Jackson?” Ally asked.
“Oh, that music. He used to listen to it so loud my ears would ring.” Mary Lou reached up and touched her ears.
Jackson smiled, and it softened the look of concentration on his face. “You used to dance to it while you made dinner, Mom. Don’t try to pretend you didn’t like it.”
“It’s true.” Heath looked at Mary Lou, and his smile broadened. “Remember how long her hair was, Jackson?”
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“Your father loved my long hair.” Mary Lou reached up and touched her hair with a thoughtful look on her face.
“You still look beautiful, Mom,” Heath said. “I also remember that you knew most of the words to the songs, too.”
“Well, how could I not with how often Jackson played those albums?” She shook her head and smiled in Jackson’s direction.
“I still do. Gotta love my vinyl.” Jackson winked at Ally.
“That means the other one in the picture is probably Cooper,” Mary Lou said. “Because Jackson and Cooper have always been like twins, doing everything together, while Logan would usually strike out on his own.”
Heath moved to the empty cushion beside his mother and looked over her shoulder. “That’s Coop, all right. And the reason his hair was so short is that he’d won that photo award contest in Photography magazine—remember, Ma? You made him get a haircut to accept his award.”
Mary Lou smiled. “Yes, oh goodness. He was so upset with me over that haircut. But I couldn’t let him accept an award looking like a ragamuffin.”
Jackson rolled his eyes. “Every guy looked like that back then, Ma.”
“Yes, well, I was proud of him. And he met that beautiful girl at the award ceremony, which I credit to the haircut.” She lifted her shoulders quickly, as if to say, See? It helped him after all.
Heath shook his head. “Coop would have gotten that girl with or without the haircut.”
“Maybe so. But you never know.” Mary Lou handed the photo back to Ally and asked, “Do you have more?”
The enthusiasm in her voice made Ally smile as she placed another picture in her hands.
They spent the next hour laughing and talking about Heath and his brothers’ teenage years and their mischievous behavior. By the time Heath and Ally were ready to leave, Ally felt like Mary Lou and Jackson were old friends. They were both easygoing and warm. Jackson’s personality was different from Heath’s. As edgy as Jackson dressed, his personality was laid-back, while Heath had an intensity about him that made Ally’s pulse quicken every time they were close.
Heath hugged his mother goodbye and promised to see her Sunday for dinner.
“Ally, will you be joining us on Sunday?” Mary Lou asked.
Ally looked up at Heath, not wanting to impose on his time with his family.
“I’d love it if you’d join us, but don’t feel pressured if you have plans,” Heath said.
Jackson lowered his voice, as if he were sharing a secret. “That means he wants you to come.”
“Thank you, Mary Lou. I’d really enjoy that.” She slid her hand around Heath’s waist, feeling like she’d just stepped deeper into his inner circle—and loving it.
Chapter Sixteen
HEATH LIVED AT 200 Eleventh Avenue, one of the most luxurious condominiums in the city. He was a little embarrassed by the prestigious address as they entered the gunmetal-gray-colored building. Its impressive architecture included protruding piers and an arched and curved cornice with multi-paned windows. He’d purposefully not driven tonight. His was the only building with an en-suite garage, where cars were brought up on freight elevators to each residence. The extravagance was not something Heath had sought out, but he’d wanted the view of the Hudson River, and the twenty-four-foot ceilings and en-suite garage were part of the package.
“You must have a great view of the water,” Ally said as they rode the elevator up to his apartment.
“I do, but the view in here is much more beautiful.” He pulled her in close and kissed her neck. “Watching you with my family made me fall for you a little harder.”
“I think you took me there hoping it would have the same effect on me.”
“Not hoping, but I wondered if it might drive you away.”
“Not on your life.” She went up on her toes and kissed him.
The elevator doors opened, and with a hand on her lower back, he guided her into his living room. Her eyes went directly to the far wall, which boasted floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, complete with a sliding library ladder. The books were interspersed with family photographs and a few of Heath’s favorite sculptures and vases.
Ally’s eyes widened as she walked past the wall of windows overlooking the river, which she’d missed when she’d been so taken with the bookshelves, slowing for only a second to take in the glorious view before reaching the shelves. She ran her fingers over the spines of a row of books, then glanced over her shoulder at Heath.
“These shelves, all these books…It’s like a dream come true.” She took a few steps and stood before his favorite sculpture. Ally tilted her head to the right, then to the left, as she examined the sculpture of a woman’s chest to forehead.
“I’ve never seen anything like this up close,” Ally said with a hint of awe. “It’s as if the steel is moving in the wind. I can almost feel this woman breathe and feel her hair blowing in the wind. It’s fascinating.”
“Sage Remington is the artist.”
“I know of him, but I’ve never seen his work up close. We really should join Jackson when he does the shoot. What a treat that would be.”
Treat? She had no idea that to Heath, she was the biggest treat of all.
“I’d like that. We’ll plan to go.” He admired the sculpture again. “He creates these using varying widths of steel ribbons. You see how there’s no back? I think that gives the steel the feel of fluidity.” He joined her by the sculpture. “It’s the definition that gets me. The ability to define everything—her lips, her nose, the dips and swells of her neck. He somehow makes her look feminine and delicate despite the heavy metal he uses.”
“Heath.” She reached for his hand. “Why would you ever want to stay at my place when you have all of this at your disposal? These books, this glorious art.” She turned to face the river. “And this amazing view?” She shifted her gaze, and her eyes danced over the Scandinavian-style couches. Heath’s apartment wasn’t lavishly furnished, and much like Ally’s, it wasn’t littered with accessories. He lived simply, at a pricey address.
He ran his hands down her arms. “Isn’t it obvious?”
“No,” she said with wide eyes.
“Because you’re there. This is stuff, Ally. Books, art, and a view. I’d rather wake up to you than wake up to the Hudson.”
“If that’s a line, you really have mastered the art of seduction.”
His thumb brushed lightly over her lower lip. He’d waited all night to be closer to her, and now she was looking at him with her big, beautiful eyes, touching his stomach with her delicate hand. He couldn’t help lowering his lips to hers in a soft, welcoming kiss. Her tongue eagerly sought his, releasing his pent-up desire as her hands fisted in his shirt and she rocked her hips against him. He felt his body swell with lust, but it was the slow moan that escaped her lungs and slithered down his throat that did him in.
“Ally.” His voice was low, gravelly, and full of lust.
Her eyes blazed, and she deepened the kiss in response. Heath lifted her into his arms and headed for the stairs, ascending them swiftly.
“You’re carrying me up the stairs?” she said against his lips with a smile.
“It’s quicker.” He slowed on the first landing and kissed her again before ascending the remaining stairs to the bedroom, where he set her feet on the floor. Two walls of floor-to-ceiling glass gave way to a glorious view of dark shades of orange, purple, and blue hovering above the city lights and the river below.
“Oh my God. How do you ever sleep? I’d sit here and stare at the view all night long.”
The night sky cast a romantic hue into the dark room, silhouetting Ally’s curvaceous hips and full breasts. Heath lowered his mouth to the nape of her neck and trailed light kisses to the sensitive spot just below her ear. His hands explored her thighs as he pressed his hard length against her rear.
“You’re the only view I want to get lost in, sweethe
Her head tipped back with a lusty sigh. She reached behind her and gripped his hips, holding him close as she met his gyrating pelvis with her ass. Heath slowly unzipped her dress and slid it over her shoulders. It fell to the floor in a heap. She was breathing harder, and when Ally pressed her ass against him again, it was all he could do to restrain his carnal desires. He gathered her hair over one shoulder, admiring the graceful lines of her back as he unhooked her bra and gently removed it.
With her back to him, Ally reached behind her, searching for his hips again. He gripped her wrists and held them by her sides as he licked and sucked her neck, then followed the line of her spine with his tongue. He felt her shiver against him as he kissed the dimples at the base of her spine, then laved them with his tongue.
“Heath,” she pleaded.
He hooked his fingers in the waistband of her lacy panties and drew them down slowly, then lifted each of her feet to set her free. Bare, save for her black high heels, Ally was a piece of art, shadowed by the light of the moon. Heath knelt behind her, filling his hands with her hips as he licked the curve where her ass met her thighs, loving first one side, then the other, as goose bumps formed on her skin. He ran his hands down one leg, then slowly up, reveling in the feel of her softness, the trust she had in him. His hands traveled north to the juncture of her sex. Heat emanated from between her legs as he swept his thumb over her wet flesh.
She inhaled a sharp breath, spreading her legs to accommodate his large hands, but Heath wasn’t in a hurry. He took his time, kissing her perfect, rounded ass and sliding his hands around the front of her hips, holding her in place as he dipped lower and his tongue found the wet, sensitive skin between her legs. Her scent aroused him, and the way her body shivered with every flick of his tongue spurred him on, making his cock throb with need. He felt her fingers move over the swollen, sensitive nub he’d been waiting to taste, and he groaned at the sight of her pleasuring herself. He rose to his full height and stripped bare, pressing his throbbing heat against the seam of her ass as she continued to stroke herself. With one hand clutching her waist, he reached around with the other and buried his fingers deep inside her.