by Cassia Leo
Heath was standing behind her. He was looking down at the stacks of shoe boxes with bewildered amusement. Was he mocking her?
Did she care?
She stood up, but she only had one heel on, and she nearly lost her balance.
He steadied her, and he laughed. Again, she wasn’t sure if the laugh was out of contempt for her or just gentle teasing.
“You were looking for me?”
He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Guilty.”
“But… why?”
He smirked at her.
He was gorgeous, with his dark hair and his dark skin and his dark eyes. Her breath caught in her throat. Being this close to him, having him pay attention only to her, made her feel nervous.
“You like shoes, I see,” he said.
“Um, yeah.” She sat back down and began to unbuckle the sandal she was wearing. She couldn’t think about shoes when he was here. “But I’m sure that you’d be bored. I can… stop.”
“Oh, don’t stop on my account,” he said.
She looked up at him again. “Why were you looking for me?”
He scrutinized her face. “You’re actually pretty.”
“Thank you?”
“Would you like it if I bought you shoes?”
“I have money,” she said. “I can buy them myself.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Suit yourself.”
She yanked the other sandal off and put it back in its box. “It turns out that I’m not really interested in the shoes right now.”
“That’s too bad,” said Heath. “I hope I didn’t distract you.”
“You did, but it’s a good thing,” she said. She was so confused.
“You want to go somewhere with me?”
“As long as we’re not climbing on cliffs again.”
He smirked at her. “All right, then.”
*
Heath hadn’t brought the truck. He didn’t think Isabella would appreciate it. In all honesty, he was really bad with women. He had no idea what he was doing. He hadn’t even been able to make the first move with Cathy, and she was the only girl he’d ever tried to make moves with.
Isabella seemed more comfortable in the convertible, but he wasn’t sure if they should drive with the top down or not. It was summer, and it was blazingly hot. Would she prefer air conditioning?
In the end, he decided for the top down, if only because the wind whipping by while they drove would be so loud, they wouldn’t be able to talk. He had no idea what to say to her.
He wasn’t pursuing Isabella because he liked her. He wasn’t even doing it because he thought it might make Cathy jealous, although that was a nice bonus if it came to that. Mostly, he was doing it because he hated Eli Linton, and he thought that fucking his sister would probably be the worst thing he could do to the guy.
Heath was lucky that Isabella seemed interested in him. It was just too bad that he had no idea how he would keep her interest.
He didn’t want to take her to the tenant house. It was grungy and dirty—no place for a girl like her. They couldn’t go back to her house. That would be awkward. But he wanted to be alone with her, not in some crowded restaurant or something. He couldn’t handle that.
So he took her to a spot that he knew on the farm. A little creek ran through a lush field, and there were shade trees overlooking a picnic table. He thought she would hate it.
But she settled on top of the picnic table and smiled down at the creek. “It’s beautiful out here.”
He nodded. He agreed with her. He’d never quite shared Cathy’s desire for cities, although he’d visited cities while he was away and found he didn’t have any aversion to them either. Still, the farm seemed like home to him, and he preferred the peacefulness of nature. He sat down next to her on the picnic table.
She smiled at him shyly. “Why am I here with you?”
“Because I asked you and you came,” he said. He wasn’t sure what she was after.
“So, you want to be friends, Heath?”
What was he supposed to do with that? Be coy? He wouldn’t have the slightest idea how to do that. “Not friends.”
Her eyebrows shot up.
Oh, damn it all to hell. He snatched her by the chin and held her face still. And then his lips met hers.
She was startled. He could tell. But she kissed him back eagerly.
He didn’t do it for very long. Kissing her didn’t feel bad or anything. She was an okay kisser. But it felt strange. He’d only kissed a handful of women in his life, and every time he kissed one that wasn’t Cathy, it never felt right. He pulled away.
She put her fingers to her lips. She was blushing and smiling a tiny, bashful smile. “Oh,” she said.
He glared at her. Her obvious pleasure at the kiss made him angry with her. “You act like you’ve never been kissed before.”
She looked down at her knees, her smile widening. “Don’t be silly, Heath. I’m seventeen years old. I’ve done a lot of kissing.”
He wasn’t sure if he believed her or not. “Are you a virgin?”
She turned scarlet. “That’s none of your…Why are you asking me…?”
He got up off the picnic table. Damn it. It wasn’t going to work unless he fucked her. Eli would be pissed off about some kissing, but knowing that Heath had screwed his baby sister would make him crazy. Still, Heath didn’t have much desire to go through another girl’s first time. On the other hand, popping her cherry was infinitely worse than just fucking her. He shrugged. He could handle it.
Isabella wrapped her arms around her torso. She wasn’t looking at him. She looked embarrassed and confused.
He should comfort her, right? He tried to ask himself what he would do if she was Cathy.
He considered. It was too hard to imagine.
He sat back down next to her on the picnic table. “I’m not very good at this.”
She gave him a hesitant smile. “It’s okay.”
He should probably kiss her again, shouldn’t he? He leaned in and captured her lips with his.
She sighed against him.
He felt something unpleasant go through him. Guilt, maybe?
He kissed her harder, trying to drown it out.
*
Matt ruefully counted his remaining chips. “I don’t have enough. I can’t see your bet.”
“Suppose you’ll have to fold then,” said one of the other men playing, reaching for Matt’s chips.
Heath stopped him. “Wait a minute. I’ll spot the money he needs if he puts something up for collateral.”
Matt’s eyes gleamed. “Ah, I knew you’d come through for me, Heath. What is it you want this time? Another truck?”
“The farmhouse,” said Heath.
Matt snickered. “You gotta be crazy. This pot isn’t near worth the farmhouse.”
“How about the skin on your back then?”
“What?” said Matt.
Heath leaned forward. “If you lose, you let me take my belt to your bare skin.”
“Man, that’s fucked up,” said the other player.
“You remember when you beat me like that, Matt?” asked Heath.
“You’re on,” said Matt, glaring at him.
“Seriously, Heath, what are you playing at?” asked one of the other men.
Heath just smiled grimly, handing a stack of chips to Matt.
Matt pushed them into the center. “All in.”
“You’re so reckless with my money,” said Heath.
“Got a good hand,” said Matt.
The other man tossed his cards on the table. “I’m out. You two are crazy.”
Matt raised his eyebrows at Heath. “You?”
“You think I’m going to fold after I gave you money to keep you playing? I know you’re drunk, Matt, but maybe you’re really stupid too.” Heath pushed chips into the center of the table. “I see your bet.”
Matt eyed the huge pot in the middle of the table with hungry eyes. He laid his cards down. “Four aces.”
Heath winced. Well, occasionally, the jackass had to get lucky, didn’t he? He tossed his full house on the table. “You beat me, Matt.”
Matt grinned.
Heath didn’t think he’d ever hated him more. He should have read the signs better, played the game smarter. He was letting his feelings for Matt cloud his judgment.
Matt raked his chips over. “Cash me out.”
The dealer, who’d dropped out of this game three bets ago, picked up the money box. It was locked, and they all took turns with the key, just like they took turns dealing. The money was counted and verified before each game.
“Wait,” said Heath. “Stay, Matt. You’re obviously on a winning streak.”
Matt chortled. “I haven’t been winning shit since you got back here, Heath. No, I’m getting out while the getting is good.”
The dealer began counting Matt’s chips.
Heath’s jaw twitched. He couldn’t stand to see Matt have one moment of triumph. That was not the way this was supposed to go. He stood up, taking money out of his back pocket. He looked back and forth between the dealer and the other player. “How much would it be worth it to you to hold him down?”
“Hold him down?” said the player. “You’re out of your mind.”
“Two hundred?” said Heath, flipping through his cash. “Five hundred?”
Matt swallowed.
Heath met his gaze, and he saw the fear in the man’s eyes. Matt remembered.
“Maybe I don’t need anyone to hold him down,” said Heath. He launched across the table, scattering chips everywhere. He seized Matt by the throat.
Matt scrabbled at Heath’s hand, his eyes bulging. He teetered on his feet.
They both went down, knocking over the table, Matt beneath Heath.
Heath began to punch him, raining blows on Matt’s stomach, torso, and face.
Matt gurgled, cowering, trying to duck away from the blows.
Heath took him by the shoulders and slammed him against the ground. “Hold still, you fuck.”
Matt’s head clunked against the floor. He looked dazed.
There was something in Matt’s expression that reminded Heath of the way Floyd had looked at him as he was falling down the stairs. An expression of bewilderment and fear. It enraged him. Heath roared.
He slammed Matt into the hard wood again.
Matt’s eyes went glassy.
Heath punched his face, his knuckles cracking against Matt’s nose.
Matt’s body jumped, but otherwise he didn’t react. He’d lost consciousness.
“Wake up,” Heath spat at him.
The dealer was at Heath’s back, trying to pull him off Matt.
Heath struck at him. “Don’t touch me.”
“Calm down,” said the dealer.
“Motherfucking shit.” Heath got up off Matt. He kicked the man’s inert body. “Bastard.”
“Whoa,” said the other player. “What did he ever do to you anyway?”
Heath laughed, and the laughter got away from him. It was a little too loud, a little too uncontrolled. “How much time you got? What didn’t he do to me.”
“We should call an ambulance,” said the dealer.
“No,” said Heath. “Just leave.”
“At least, I’ll take him up to his house,” said the other player.
“No,” said Heath. “I’ll do it.”
“But…”
“No.”
They both backed away from him.
The dealer gestured to the cash box. “We have to divvy up the money.” He looked back at the table. “But, um, the chips…”
Heath took out all the money in his wallet. He threw it on top of Matt’s body. “Take what you want.” He looked back and forth between them. “Then get the fuck out.”
*
Heath tossed Matt onto a couch in the farmhouse.
He wandered up the steps, onto the second level of the house. It was like he remembered. He crept down the hall, pausing outside the door to Cathy’s room. He’d made love to her for the first time here. He remembered the way she’d guided his hand between her legs, what it was like to touch her there for the first time.
A lump formed in his throat.
He pushed the door open.
It was dark inside. He found the light switch and turned it on.
The room was the same. Cleaner maybe. Less clothes in the closet, but it was still her bedspread, the one they’d lain on together. There was her mirror, jammed with photographs.
There was one of him. He was kissing her on the cheek. Her eyes were closed. She looked blissfully happy.
He pulled it off the mirror and brought it to his lips.
“Cathy,” he whispered.
How had this all gone wrong?
His chest felt tight, and he thought he might start crying.
But the door creaked, and he turned.
There was the little boy in the doorway. Gage.
“What?” said Heath.
The boy scampered over to him, holding up his arms. He wanted to be picked up.
Heath turned away. “Go back to bed,” he said gruffly. A tear was trickling over his cheek. He rubbed at it.
Gage cocked his head to the side. “You have a boo boo?”
Heath sniffed hard.
“Kiss it and make it better?”
“Goddamn it,” said Heath. He reached down and swept the boy up into his arms.
*
“So you just got hired as a roadie and went on tour with The Counting Crows?” said Isabella, looking at Heath in awe. They were in the shallow end of the pool at her house. It was late afternoon, and the sun beat down on them. The water felt good.
He shrugged.
She liked his shrugs, she’d discovered. They were so complicated, and when he did it, he’d look away, like he was embarrassed to have been asked something definite. He rarely met her gaze, and when she did look into his eyes, it made her feel weak inside.
“Well, they were just getting big around then,” he said, “and I played some poker with one of the guys in the band in the back room of a bar one night. Next thing I knew, I was sleeping in a bus.”
“That’s crazy,” said Isabella. “I can’t believe you just… did that. I could never take a risk like that. Go out in the world with nothing and hope everything turned out okay? I’d be terrified.”
“It’s not that big a deal. I didn’t have anything to leave behind. No home. No family. No money. It wasn’t that hard.”
She shook her head. “That must have been terrifying for you. All alone like that.” It broke her heart everything he’d been through.
He shrugged again.
Damn. He was so gorgeous.
He was only in swimming trunks at the moment, and she couldn’t help ogling his bare arms and chest. His upper arms were thick like tree trunks. He was so solid. And hairy. And tan. And… male. She found him dizzyingly attractive.
She sidled close to him in the pool, pressing her wet skin into him.
She was becoming more and more brazen with him lately. He seemed to like it when she was forward. When he initiated intimacy with her, he seemed uncomfortable.
He looked down at her body. She was only wearing a tiny green bikini. He bit down on his bottom lip. His voice was husky. “Aren’t you worried they’ll come out and see us?”
“Cathy and Eli?” she said. “I hope they do.”
He chuckled softly and eased a finger under the strap of her bikini top.
Her breath caught in her throat.
He pushed the strap off her shoulder and pushed the cup of the bikini out of the way.
She watched his face as he looked at her bare breast. It was the first time that any guy had ever seen it. She wanted him to like it.
He bit down even harder on his lip. His Adam’s apple bobbed. “You know, Isabella, I’m going to be very bad for you. You seem like a nice girl, and if you don’t want to be very badly hurt, you should cover yourself and run fro
m me.”
“You shouldn’t say things like that about yourself,” she said. “You’re a good person. I think you’re amazing.”
He touched her nipple. “Is that right?”
She gasped.
He pinched it.
She groaned.
He laughed. “Amazing.” There it was again—that tone that sounded like he might be making fun of her. He pressed himself into her, grinding his pelvis against her body. His voice was harsh in her ear. “Do you have any idea what I’m going to do to you?”
Her pulse quickened.
“You couldn’t know. You with your perky little titties and your wide-eyed innocence. But this is your warning, Isabella. Get away from me while you can.”
Her breath grew shallow. What he said thrilled her, excited her.
He twisted her nipple.
A burst of pain followed by pleasure shot through her. She let out a choked moan.
He guided her hand to his crotch and she felt him, hard and hot just under a flimsy bit of wet cloth.
Her heart pounded against her rib cage.
“What are you touching, Isabella?”
She looked up at him in embarrassment. He couldn’t ask her to say that. She didn’t even know what to call it. Sure there were words—they all sprang to her mind unbidden—but she wasn’t sure which one to say. They all seemed silly or crude or clinical and—
He laughed, enjoying her discomfort.
She tried to move her hand away, but he wouldn’t let her.
“It’s my cock,” he breathed, his voice like black velvet. “Say it. Tell me you want it.”
“I…” Her face felt hot, like it was burning up. Her voice came out shaky and barely audible. “I want your cock.”
And something between her legs clenched. She realized she was incredibly turned on just then. She did want him. She moved her hand over him.
He let out a small grunt.
She looked into his eyes, searching for permission, for encouragement.
But there was nothing there. It was like staring into a dark void, like falling into a black hole.
“What the hell?” said a voice.
Eli.
Isabella threw herself away from Heath, yanking her bikini into place.
