“The house is officially listed. I told him not to worry about Mom’s clothes, that you and I would go through them. He’s going to hold off on downsizing anything else until he knows where he’ll end up.”
“That makes sense,” I murmur.
“Did you want to eat here?” he asks.
I shrug. “I’m flexible.”
He grins, clearly not taking that the way I meant it.
He then slides off his stool and offers me his hand. “If it’s alright with you, I can make something upstairs for us.”
My hand slips into his. “You okay?”
One side of his mouth tips up. “It’s been a long day.” He gives my hand a squeeze. “But, it’s better now.”
He waves to Gigi and I blow her a kiss good-bye as we make our way to the stairs to my apartment. Once we’re in and the door is closed behind us, he lays a hot and heavy kiss on me. My hands move up his chest, over his broad shoulders and into his thick hair.
God, this man can kiss.
When he pulls back, I blink up at him. “What was that for?”
He smiles wickedly, the look in his eyes searing. “I’ve been waiting to do that and more since I had to leave for work this morning.”
“That long?” I tease.
His grip tightens on my hips. “Yep, how hungry are you?”
I feel the question and all it entails all over and tremble in response. It’s all the answer he needs. His hands move down to cup my ass and then I’m up, holding on to him as he carries me to the sofa.
“The bed is right there.”
“I haven’t fucked you on this couch yet,” he replies against my neck.
Cue another full-body tremble.
He lowers my back to the sofa and then pushes the skirt of my dress up. Then, his mouth is on me, right over my lacey panties.
“Heath.” I gasp, my hips bucking.
He lifts his head and locks eyes with me as he pushes my legs together and peels my panties down them. He leaves one side dangling over my boot and pushes my legs open again.
“I’ve been fighting going hard all day thinking about tasting you,” he murmurs, before lowering his head.
He does a whole lot more than taste me; he devours me. He adds his fingers to the mix, and my climax builds.
“I’m close.” I groan, my fingers threading into his hair as I push up against his mouth.
He eases a third finger inside me and I come hard. His hand moves away but he continues to lap at my clit. I hear the zip of his pants seconds before he thrusts inside me.
Being full of him, still coming, is so fucking good. He leans over me, taking my mouth as his hands grip my breasts through the fabric of my dress and bra.
“You feel so fucking good.” He groans against my lips.
I push at his suit jacket, half annoyed that he was in such a rush we’re still almost fully clothed, and half turned-on that he couldn’t wait.
Pulling back, he takes over for me, quickly taking off everything from the waist up. He then gets to work on the top of my dress, shoving his hand under my back to reach the zipper. He drags it down, still driving his thick cock into me. His hands move, pushing the top of my dress down as I help, tugging my arms from it until it pools around my waist. His hands then move to the cups of my bra, tugging each down as his mouth descends. His lips close around my nipple and he sucks hard.
My back arches as I exhale. “Yes.”
His mouth still at my breast, his hands move again, this time to my thighs. He spreads me wide, pushing my legs down as he thrusts deep.
Oh my God.
With my hands on his head, I hold him to me as he licks, suckles and kisses my breasts.
“You gonna come again?” He grunts.
“Um,” is all I can manage.
He moves his hand between us, honing right in on my clit, and his fingers begin circling.
He slams deep and I come hard. It takes him a bit longer but not much.
He continues to move, slowly in and then out while I catch my breath. “That was hot.”
He presses his lips to mine as he chuckles in response.
“Well, it was,” I snap.
He lifts his head and grins down at me. “I’m not arguing.”
It’s a good point.
My eyes roam over us, my dress bunched around my waist, my bra’s still on, and his pants and boxers are halfway down his legs. “Next time can we get naked first?”
He pushes back into me and stays there. “I got impatient.”
“I got that.” I laugh.
His thumbs brush across my nipples. “After dinner I’ll take my time with you.”
Damn.
I shiver.
He doesn’t miss it.
Leaning down, he presses his lips to mine. “Go change. I’ll get the food going.”
Before he leaves me, he takes my boot off for me. I haven’t needed to wear it in here or at his place this week. So, after retrieving my panties from my ankle, I leave it off and head to the bathroom.
After I get cleaned up, I throw on some sleep shorts and a tank since we’re staying in. Heath is in my tiny kitchen cooking. He must have changed while I was in the bathroom. He’s now wearing a snug fitting tee and a pair of sweat pants. I stand there for a moment to admire his ass. It seriously is a thing of beauty.
“You going to keep staring at my back or get over here and help?” he mutters.
“I’m not staring at your back,” I reply.
He looks over his shoulder. “Oh yeah?”
Shrugging, I reply, “I was looking at your ass.”
He shakes his head and looks back to the stovetop while I move up behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist.
My cheek to his shoulder blade, I ask, “Need any help?”
“Just your company.”
I take it all in, the sizzle of whatever he’s making, the fresh scent of his shirt mixed with his cologne, and how good it feels to be pressed up against him. As fantastic as all of that is, I should help. Pulling away, I ask, “Can I get you a drink?”
“Sure.”
I grab a beer for both of us and set his next to the stove. Before I can open mine, my phone rings. Taking my beer with me, I open it as I head toward the door. My purse is still on the floor where I dropped it. Bending over I fish it out and glance at the display.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” I snap.
Heath turns to face me, his face hard hearing my tone. “Who is it?”
“Gina. Should I answer it?”
He turns back to the stove. “That’s up to you, babe.”
My thumb hits the screen and I lift the phone to my ear. “What?”
“Um.” There’s a pause, then, “Sydney?”
I roll my eyes. “You don’t know who you called?”
She laughs but it sounds off. “Right, sorry. I wasn’t sure you’d answer.”
There’s a noise as Heath moves the skillet to a different burner. My eyes are on him as he turns to face me.
“Why’d you call?” I ask.
“I miss you.”
I close my eyes. His footsteps sound his approach. His arms circling me confirm it.
“Sydney?” Gina asks when I don’t reply.
Safe in his arms, I answer her, “I missed you for months but I got past that. I’m sure you will too.”
“I was wrong to side with Molly,” she blurts.
I press my forehead to Heath’s chest. “Good to know.”
“Is that all you’re going to say?” she asks, making the mistake of sounding annoyed.
“What do you want me to say, Gina? You want me to say it would have been nice to hear months ago while I was lying in a hospital bed? You think one call out of the blue will fix what you did? It sucks but that’s not going to happen.”
Heath’s hands start to gently stroke up and down my back.
“Oh, I see how it is. Heath Mackey can cheat on you and you’ll forgive him, but I make one
mistake and I’m out.”
He stiffens and I know he heard what she said.
“First off, Heath never made me any promises when we started hooking up. You, on the other hand by definition of supposedly being my friend, did. You didn’t act like my friend when you tried to convince me I wasn’t good enough for him, and you weren’t my friend when you didn’t care enough about me to see me while I was hurt. And, even though he never made me any promises, he’s been there for me more than anyone else since. Every single day, Gina.”
“Whatever,” she mutters.
At this my phone is gone. “Listen to me,” Heath’s voice is grave with his anger, “I’m putting an end to this bullshit call now. You’re not sorry for how you treated Sydney. You’re just sorry everyone in town now thinks you and Molly are total bitches.”
“Fuck you, Heath,” she shouts.
“You’re not my type,” he mutters before ending the call.
“I can’t believe you called her a bitch,” I say, watching him toss my phone onto the sofa.
“It was the truth,” he replies. Then he cups my face in his hands. “Are you okay?”
I turn my face to press a kiss into his palm before looking back at him. “I am now. What about you?” My question is multifaceted. It’s not just about today; it’s an invitation to unload anything and everything that could be weighing him down. By the way he doesn’t immediately answer me, he gets this.
He drops his hands to my hips, holding me there. “I can’t bring her back. That doesn’t mean I don’t wish she were here. I can’t take away my dad’s pain. That doesn’t mean I’m not going to try. I can’t legally smack down those so-called friends of yours in nonverbal ways. That doesn’t mean I’m not going to make it my mission to fill your life with good people who will love you. This week sucks. It doesn’t mean I don’t see that it sucks a whole lot less when I’m with you.”
Whoa.
“I love you, Heath Mackey.”
He grins. “See, that right there, sucking even less as we speak.”
“Good,” I reply.
“I love you too, Sydney Fairlane.”
Nope, not good.
Fantastic.
“Denmark?”
My dad nods. “Only for a month or so.”
Four months after my mother died, Mr. and Mrs. Sonderveik, the parents of a friend of Jake’s, came to Ferncliff. They were here to help celebrate Jake and Kacey’s engagement. While they were here, they hit it off with Dad. They were able to, in ways I couldn’t, help my dad grieve.
“When?” I ask.
His eye’s move to the open framework, the skeletal bones of the house we’re standing in. “I was thinking, depending on flights, that I’d leave in two weeks. That way I’ll be back before your house is finished.”
My house, the one based off my own design, the one Sydney agreed to move into once it’s built. The house I hope we’ll grow old together in.
When I don’t say anything, he speaks, “I’ll be okay, even if you can’t keep an eye on me.”
Figured he noticed I was doing that.
He turns, moving toward what will be the picture window of our living room. “This will be good for me.”
“It’s so far away and a month is a long time,” I argue.
He turns back to look at me, a sad smile on his face. “I’ll be okay.”
Before I can argue more, a car door slams. My eyes move to the dirt path that leads up to the house to see Sydney. She’s walking carefully, her heels slowing her down. I never thought the day would come where I try to talk her into wearing flats. She’d laugh at me if I did.
There’s stomping at the front entrance as she knocks dirt off her shoes, then a bright, “Hello.”
I move toward her. “Hey.”
As I near, her eyes warm. “Hey, back.”
Her face tilts up as mine tips down so I can kiss her. She tastes like apple cinnamon.
“Did you make a pie?” I ask once I lift my head.
She grins. “It was supposed to be a surprise.” Then she looks past me to my dad. “Hey, Tom.”
He comes over to give her a hug. “How was work, darling?”
To say my dad loves Sydney would be an understatement. When my hovering became annoying, she stepped in, and since she did it bringing coffee and cookies, she won him over quickly.
“Did you know there’s some indie book signing happening in Las Basida today?” She doesn’t wait for either of us to reply before she goes on, “There were a ton of people at the diner. So many that I had to call Gigi to see if she’d come in, plus a couple of part timers. It was crazy. My feet are killing me.”
I lift my brows. “Why didn’t you change your shoes?”
She squints at me. “These ones match my dress.”
My dad laughs while I shake my head. She drops her purse and turns around to look at the progress on the build.
After my dad sold their old house and settled my mom’s estate, I was reminded of the trust I was inheriting. Since I also knew that the trust was being used to help pay for her medical expenses, I always assumed there wouldn’t be much left for me. I was okay with that. That’s why it was a surprise to learn there was still money. It wasn’t an insane amount or anything. I didn’t see the number and immediately quit my job.
What I did do was talk to Sydney about using it as a decent down payment for a house. It was her idea to take the designs I drew up all those years ago and build this house instead of trying to find one. Which is exactly what we’re doing. Since she gets free rent on the apartment above the diner, I didn’t renew my lease, and we’re living there until the house is done.
My dad bought a two-bedroom bungalow on the west side of town. His reasoning was it was twenty minutes closer to the beach. I think the real reason is because it’s close to here.
“Dad’s going to Denmark to visit the Sonderveiks,” I say.
With wide eyes, Sydney turns to my dad. “That is so cool.”
His eyes crinkle as he smiles at her. “I was going to ask if you’d water my plants while I’m gone.”
She scrunches her nose and I laugh. Tugging her to my side, I throw my arm around her shoulders.
He glances back and forth at us. “What’s so funny?”
I turn my face to kiss the side of her head before answering, “There’s a plant cemetery at Sydney’s place. She doesn’t have much luck with keeping them alive.”
She sniffs in annoyance and pulls away from me, walking over to her giant purse and pulling a tin from it. “I might fail at gardening but I rock at cookies.” She offers the tin to my dad. “I made these for you. They’re white chocolate chip macadamia nut.”
“No cookies for me?” I ask.
She moves back over to me. “Don’t be greedy. I made you a pie.”
“Thank you, Sydney.” He pats his stomach. “You’re going to fatten me up.”
Sydney laughs.
He lifts the tin. “This reminds me. I have something for you in the car. I’ll be right back.”
I shake my head. “I’m done here. We’ll walk out with you.”
My car is still at Lola’s since I caught a ride here with my dad. Half of the reason Sydney swung by, other than to see the place, was to pick me up. She holds on to my arm as we navigate the dirt path back to the street. “Why don’t you keep an old pair of sneakers or boots in your car?”
She lifts her chin to look up at me. “I suppose that isn’t a terrible idea.”
I grin, stopping us to kiss her for being cute while she swings her heel up and back to hit my butt.
“Did you just kick my butt?” I ask, trying not to laugh.
She laughs, letting go of my arm to shuffle toward my dad.
“Oh, he won’t keep you safe,” I mutter, chasing her.
She shrieks when I catch her around the waist and lift her, carrying her the rest of the way to my dad’s car. She squirms and laughs as she tries to get down, but I hold tight until I see the expres
sion on my dad’s face. Instantly, I sober and set her down. She spins toward him, her lips stretched out in a wide smile. The moment she sees him, her smile falls.
He sets the tin of cookies on the top of his car and wipes at his eyes. “I’m sorry. You two reminded me of me and Heath’s mom there. It caught me off guard.”
I take a step toward him. He sucks in a breath and holds up his hand to stop me. Then his eyes move from me to Syd and back to me. “Your mom would have loved this.”
Fuck.
That’s the thing about loss, you can be going along, minding your business and it comes out of nowhere to hit you like a freight train. You’re left lying across those emotional tracks not even sure how you got there. All you can do is blink up at the sky and wonder at the invisible wounds you carry will ever heal. For me, on this day, that answer is no. I will never stop missing her. There will always be times I will wish I could just pick up my phone and call her, just so I could hear her voice again.
“I’m sorry.” He’s apologizing for his pain.
“Dad,” I start but stop as I watch Sydney move.
She ignores his back-away vibe and goes right to him, wrapping her arms around his middle. Her advance was so unexpected his body rocks and he has to take a step back when her body hits his. There’s a moment where he looks down at her in surprise before folding his arms around her and pressing his face into her hair.
My girl can work miracles.
At least she did on me.
Coming unstuck, I join them, one arm around my dad and the other around Sydney. The three of us stand there and miss my mom in our own ways.
My dad pulls back first, lifting his hand to squeeze my arm before doing the same to Sydney’s shoulder. He then turns to his car, opening the back door and pulling what looks like a children’s book from the backseat.
Sydney has moved to my side, one arm around my back, her other hand pressed to my stomach. My dad hesitates before passing me the book. There’s a bear dancing with a child on the cover. I look up, confused.
His eyes are wet but he motions for me to look again.
I do, this time reading the title “Wherever You Are: My Love Will Find You” by Nancy Tillman.
“I don’t understand,” I whisper.
“Open it,” he breathes.
Why Lie? (Love Riddles #2) Page 22
