Wild Boys - Heath

by Melissa Foster

  Silence filled the airwaves. She opened her mouth to say good night just as he answered.

  “A woman I dated in college.” He blew out a breath. “I caught her in bed with a buddy of mine. Well, a guy I thought was a buddy.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry. If it makes you feel any better, the last two guys I dated both cheated on me. I’m starting to think that monogamous relationships are for the birds.” Fifi rubbed against her side, and she lifted her into her lap.

  “Maybe. Although, my brother Logan met a woman, and they’re happy.”

  She wondered if he realized he’d revealed another piece of personal information.

  “That’s good,” she said. “So maybe there is hope for mankind.” She lifted Fifi and kissed her head.

  “Who’re you kissing?”

  “You heard that?”

  “Yes. I hear every breath you take.”

  She leaned her head back against the wall as his words washed over her.

  “Fifi,” she answered.

  “A loyal friend.”

  She smiled. “That she is. I found her in Central Park when she was just a baby. She was skin and bones. She’s blind, and the most loving pet I’ve ever had.”

  “Central Park?” His voice grew serious. “Are you in New York?”

  “Am I allowed to answer that?”

  “Allyson, I asked; you can answer.”

  “Does that mean if I ask, you have to answer?”

  He sighed. “I didn’t say you had to answer. I said you could answer.”

  “Hm…” She toyed with him.

  “Ally, do you live in New York?”

  “Heath? Where do you live?”

  He didn’t answer.

  She wasn’t about to play this one-sided game, and she had no idea why it bothered her after what she’d just done with him. Maybe that was why. Or maybe it was her sister’s voice ringing in her ears about putting herself down.

  “This has been fun, but I have to go. Good night, Heath.” Ally didn’t wait for him to respond. She ended the call and blew out a breath, then lifted Fifi up and looked into her unsighted eyes. “Well, Fifi. I guess that’s over. I deserve more than silence.”

  She took a warm shower, and when she came out, the message light on her phone was blinking. She read the text from Heath. I live in the city. Good night, Allison.

  She wondered if he meant New York City, or if he was being vague. She smiled as she typed her response.

  I live in a city, too. And it’s Allyson. Good night, Heath.

  Chapter Five

  MONDAY MORNING HEATH arrived early to the offices of his orthopedic practice, NYC Sports Medicine, in the heart of the city. He’d given up sleeping around four that morning, went for a run through Central Park, hit the gym, and by seven he was sitting behind his desk looking out over the city and fantasizing about Ally. He hadn’t expected to get dirty with her on the phone last night. He’d only wanted to hear her voice, but hell if she hadn’t surprised him by initiating the dirty talk. Listening to her take herself over the edge last night had been as exciting as hell. It wasn’t until afterward that he’d felt different, wondering what she was feeling after they’d hung up the phone and whether she’d been telling him the truth about never having had phone sex before. It wasn’t something he’d dabbled in before. He’d thought he’d feel vulnerable, jerking off while on the phone, and he liked to be in total control. But with Ally, everything felt different, and his need for control eased.

  He reread her text from last night for the tenth time that morning, wondering if she was in fact in New York City, or if she was just playing with him. He liked that snarky side of her, too, because she was snarky sweet, not snarky obnoxious, like some women were. She was the perfect blend of femininity, sensuality, and intelligence, and that was what had him sending her a text even though it went against his cardinal rule.

  I thought about your lips all night. It was a very long night.

  He set his phone on the desk and opened a patient file. His eyes darted back to his phone every few seconds. He glanced at his watch, wondering what she was doing, where she worked, and if she was thinking of him, too. Why had she volunteered at the conference? Was she linked in some way to the ortho field?

  He tried to focus on one patient file after another, but his mind kept circling back to Ally. He wondered why she hadn’t texted back, and he couldn’t stop replaying last night’s conversation in his mind.

  A knock at his office door brought his eyes up. Before he could say, Come in, the door pushed open and his younger brother Logan sauntered in, wearing a pair of dark slacks and a crisp white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Logan was two years younger than Heath and a private investigator. For a moment Heath contemplated having Logan track down Ally for him, but he quickly nixed that idea. He wasn’t a stalker.

  The four Wild brothers looked strikingly similar; they were either six two or three, with broad shoulders, athletic builds, and thick dark hair. They got their blue eyes from their mother, whose eyes had changed to a grayish blue when she’d lost her sight during a home invasion, the same home invasion that had killed their father while he was trying to protect her; the home invasion that had taken place while Logan was on an overseas mission with the Navy SEALS. He’d returned home a broken man, having been fighting for his country while his father lay dying and his mother was savagely beaten.

  “Logan. Everything okay?” Heath motioned to the chair across from him. He’d just seen Logan last night at dinner with their mother, as they had every Sunday night since their father was killed.

  “You tell me.” Logan leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, and steepled his fingers beneath his chin. He raised his brows as if he had a secret he was dying to tell—or rather, knowing Logan, he suspected that Heath had a secret.

  And Heath was definitely not itching to share.

  Heath leaned back, locking his fingers behind his head, and shrugged. “Mom seemed well last night.”

  Heath had told Ally the truth. He was not a man who lied, not even to his brothers. His father, Bill Wild, had raised his boys to have strong family values. Honesty and loyalty topped the list. One would think that having such strong ties to family would lead the Wild brothers to long-term relationships, but that’s where things went awry. Heath had been burned, and he wasn’t interested in being burned again. He lived an honest life, which was part of the reason he had a no-ties rule. He didn’t have any interest in getting into a relationship that might cause him to start acting in ways he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to be nagged into defending his actions, either. He was doing just fine sleeping with a handful of women when it suited him.

  At least he had been.

  Until Ally.

  He shifted his eyes to his silent cell phone, wondering why she hadn’t texted him yet. Again, he wondered why he cared.

  “That was another reason I came by,” Logan said, bringing Heath’s mind back to the present. “I want to take Stormy to a Broadway show tonight. She’s never been, and I was offered great tickets. Any chance you can stop by Mom’s for me?” Logan was the first of Heath’s siblings to fall in love, and he’d been the most likely not to. They’d all been surprised when he’d brought Stella “Stormy” Krane to their mother’s house for dinner. Stormy had been on the run from an abusive, drug-trafficking ex-boyfriend, and Logan had helped her track down enough dirt on the guy to get him sent to jail for the next twenty years. Logan had fallen hard and fast for her, and Heath had never seen his brother look happier.

  “Sure. I’m happy to stop by.” Heath and his brothers took turns stopping by their mother’s house on a nightly basis. They visited, took her out for groceries, to events and dinners. It was not only their way of making sure that losing her sight didn’t mean losing out on other aspects of her life, but it was also a way for them to ensure she was protected and safe. Heath had spent many nights driving by at odd hours to check on her, and he knew his brothers did as
well. Their mother had plenty of friends she spent time with, but nothing replaced family. Heath knew that no matter how often they visited and what gaps in her life they filled, nothing would ever replace the emptiness their father’s death had left behind.

  Heath’s phone vibrated. He felt his pulse quicken and noted the unfamiliar sensation as he snagged the phone and read Ally’s text.

  Your body must have been burning. I had an X-rated dream about you last night.

  He felt himself smile as he typed a return text.

  What did you do about it when you woke up?

  He set the phone down, and Logan cleared his throat. Shit. From the narrow-eyed look Logan was giving him, Heath knew he might as well have a tattoo on his forehead that said, Yup. I’ve got a secret, and she’s damn hot.

  Heath pushed the files around on his desk and avoided Logan’s curious gaze. “So, what else is up? I’ll stop by Mom’s tonight after I finish rounds at the hospital, but I’ve got to get started on my patients.” He glanced at Logan, who had a shit-eating grin on his face. Heath shook his head.

  “So that’s how we’re going to play this? First you show up for dinner at Mom’s last night and check your phone about a dozen times.”

  “Patients.”

  “Uh-huh,” Logan said. “How do you explain the smile you had plastered on your face last night? And just now, when you were returning that text, you had a look in your eye that I don’t even want to try to decipher. Unless your patients have started blowing you, I’m thinking there’s a woman involved.”

  “Logan.” Heath shot him a narrow-eyed, warning stare.

  Logan scoffed. “Heath, you think that look is going to stop me from asking about whoever this is?” Logan rose and paced, rubbing his chin with a serious narrowing of his eyes. “You went to a conference in Vermont, which we all know probably led to an anonymous sexual tryst.”

  Heath tried to keep a straight face and shrugged.

  “Stormy said you were looking at us last night with ‘puppy-dog’ eyes.”

  “What the hell does that mean, Logan?” Heath rose to his feet.

  “She says you were looking at us like you were thinking about what we had. Our relationship.”

  Heath picked up a file and flipped through it, trying to disguise the part of him that agreed with Logan. “No thanks. I was probably looking at how pussy-whipped you’d become.” The truth was, he had been trying to figure out how his brother had gotten lucky enough to snag a woman like Stormy, who adored the very ground he walked on and was strong enough to give him shit in equal measure. She was perfect for him. And sure, part of Heath began wondering if he might be able to find that, too. With Ally.

  “Hey, don’t knock it.” Logan crossed his arms and lowered his chin. “And don’t talk about Stormy that way or I’ll kick your ass.”

  “That wasn’t a comment about Stormy. I think the world of her. You know that. It was a comment about how much you’ve changed. You’ve gone soft.”

  “Only around her, and hell if that’s not exactly who I want to be. What’s wrong with you? You get a text and smile like it gave you a hard-on. Just admit there’s a woman in there somewhere. My PI skills don’t ever lead me astray.”

  Heath leaned both hands on the desk and bowed his head. When he lifted his eyes to meet Logan’s again, he couldn’t lie.

  “Okay. Fine. I met someone. But don’t get all sappy with me. I don’t even know her last name, where she lives, or anything, and I prefer to keep it that way.”

  Logan arched a brow. “I can fix that in about ten minutes.”

  Heath ran his hand through his hair. “No thanks, Logan. What the hell do you want from me? I don’t get it, okay? She’s…She’s different from other women.”

  Logan sauntered around the desk and patted Heath on the back. “Dude, welcome to the end of everything you ever believed about yourself. You’re standing on the precipice of the rest of your life. Either walk the tightrope and see where you end up, or run like hell, because this middle-of-the-road shit doesn’t work. I know. I’ve been there.”

  “Pfft. This isn’t that.” Is it? No, it wasn’t anything like Logan and Stormy. They’d had a good time, a few amazing fucks. Great phone sex.

  And the first real conversation I’ve had with a woman in years.

  His phone vibrated with another text. Heath eyed it as Logan’s mouth quirked up in another smart-ass grin.

  “Patients are calling,” Logan said as he waved and headed for the door.

  Heath read the text from Ally as Logan left.

  Wouldn’t you like to know? What did you do about your long, hard night?

  Holy fuck. Had he finally met his match?

  He returned her text, wondering how far she was willing to go.

  I took things into my own hands, wishing they were yours.

  Heath gathered his patient files and was about to put his phone in his pocket when another text vibrated through.

  If they were mine, you’d probably have them bound together. But I seem to remember you having an affinity for my mouth.

  How was he supposed to see patients with a hard-on? He sent her a quick reply. Your mouth is quite appealing, as are your hands and certain other parts of your body. He wanted to see her, and at the last second, before sending the text, he added, What city do you live in?

  ***

  ALLY STARED AT her cell phone, trying to decide how to answer the text from Heath that had come in hours earlier. She’d been contemplating her response all afternoon. She had dreamed about him, and yes, she’d given in and pleasured herself rather than coming into the lab at the hospital where she worked sexually frustrated. Mondays were busy and frustrating enough. She didn’t need that kind of added tension.

  She’d been terrible company when she’d met Amanda for lunch. She’d spent the entire time debating telling Heath where she lived. She wanted to tell him she lived in New York City. Maybe he lived close by and they could see each other. But that also made her nervous. She could see how a man like Heath could be addicting, and she didn’t know if that was a good or a bad thing.

  Who was she kidding? Become addicting? She was already craving him like a cocaine addict craves another hit.

  She decided to play it cool and see what happened.

  I think we’ve stretched the definition of “no ties,” which is a shame, because I kind of liked playing with your tie.

  “Hey, Ally, do you have those results done yet?” She shoved her phone in the pocket of her lab coat as Marty Crolor came into the back room of the lab where she was working.

  “Dr. Warton is on the warpath.” Marty was in his late twenties. He’d shown Ally the ropes over the last few weeks since she’d started working at the hospital. He was smart, helpful, and almost always in a good mood.

  “Yes. I’ve already submitted them. Nothing out of the ordinary.” She went to one of the computers and pulled up the report she’d filed. They ran a tight ship in the medical lab. Busy from the second they arrived until the moment the next shift took over; running tests, delivering results, and drawing blood from patients was all in a day’s work. Ally enjoyed every minute of her chaotic day. She’d come to work at the hospital from a private lab facility because she wanted more one-on-one interaction with patients. She knew how difficult giving blood was for some people, and Ally had a knack for helping patients feel at ease.

  A printer spit out a document, and Marty pulled the order and looked at Ally with a quick raise of his brows.

  “Want to do a peds blood draw?”

  “Heck yeah.” Ally’s heart went out to all the patients, but she was especially touched by the children. She changed from her blue lab coat to the white one she wore on the floor, then grabbed the tray of supplies she’d need to draw blood as Marty read off the order, telling her which room, the patient’s name, and the doctor who’d ordered the procedure. Marty rated the doctor a four on the fear-inducing scale they used in the laboratory to assess the doctors’ attitu
des toward the staff. A four meant that he was prone to nasty comments but did so calmly. In other words, he’d rip the staff to shreds while smiling, as opposed to a five, who was more like a rabid dog. Ally didn’t like to deal with fives because it was difficult for her not to give them shit right back, and doing so would cost her her job. At least with a four she could tune out the words and focus on the smile.

  On her way up to the seventh floor she debated telling Heath where she lived. At least that way they would know if seeing each other was even an option. Otherwise, how long would this game go on? She loved every second of it, but she was already feeling a little addicted to their naughty texts and hoping for more sexy calls. How would she feel if they did this for another week or two and then suddenly the calls and texts stopped?

  She pushed away those thoughts and made herself stop thinking about texting Heath so she wasn’t delayed in taking blood from the little boy, who was probably a nervous wreck.

  She found the seven-year-old boy, Johnny Waselchec, watching television.

  “Hey there, buddy.” She smiled as she came around the bed and set her supplies down.

  Johnny looked over with the widest blue eyes she’d ever seen and clutched his mother’s hand. His mother slid a nervous smile to Ally.

  Ally glanced at the television, determined to keep his mind off the needle.

  “Cartoons? I wonder if my boss would mind if I watched with you for a while.” She patted the mattress beside his legs. “Move over. I’ll sit right here.”

  Johnny laughed.

  “What? You don’t think I should?” She wrinkled her brow.

  “No,” he said with another sweet laugh. “You have to work, not watch television.”

  Ally huffed. “This grown-up stuff is highly overrated. I’d much rather watch cartoons. But I guess if I have to work, I will. You don’t have to work, though. Lucky for you, you can just watch that show while I work.” By the time he looked at his arm, she’d already cleaned the area over his vein and was ready to draw his blood. She glanced back up at the television.

  “Why don’t you watch that show. Since I’m not allowed to watch, can you tell me what’s happening? I hate missing cartoons.”