Page 52 of Wilder Heart

Cash chuckled, his gaze trailing a line of heat down Wilder’s body. “Could’ve fooled me.”

Wilder flushed. “Cash, fuck.”

He smiled. “Sorry not sorry? Here, give me your foot.”

He helped Wilder sit up and thread his legs through a pair of black boxer briefs. Moving his knee at all made pain radiate upand down his leg, and by the time he had a pair of gray joggers on, he was on his feet and panting against Cash’s shoulder, leaning on him heavily.

Cash sighed into his hair, gentle hands sweeping up and down Wilder’s back. “I wish I could stay.”

Wilder forced himself to straighten and shook his head. “Don’t worry about me. Focus on the job. I’ll be fine.”

“I know you will.” Cash’s voice was a whiskey rumble. “Doesn’t mean I’ll worry any less.”

That sent a quiet thrill through him, and he couldn’t hide his smile. Cash’s amber eyes fell to his lips.

“You like that I’m going to worry, don’t you?”

“Maybe a little.” There was no harm in admitting it.

“Mm-hm.” Cash kissed him, slow and deep, and suddenly Wilderalsoregretted that Cash couldn’t stay with him. “Take it easy today. Want my help putting on the brace before I go?”

“No, I can do that. You should get a move on.”

“Okay. I’ll come by again tonight and help you settle in.”

Wilder smirked. “Help me, huh?”

Cash grinned. “Got to make sure you get plenty of rest.”

Wilder leaned in, his heart galloping in his chest. “Careful. You’re going to spoil me.”

“Oh, no,” Cash whispered against his lips. “Does that mean you’ll startexpectingthings from me?”

“Mm-hm.”

“Guess it’ll be my duty to provide them, then.”

“Exactly.”

“Sounds miserable.” But his smile said it sounded anything but. “Have a good day, baby.”

“You, too. Be safe.”

“Always.” He gave Wilder one last kiss, cradling his face with one hand, and then backed away.

Alone again, Wilder blew out a breath, sitting and bending down to pick up the leg brace.

His morning was a boring one. He watched from the window as the others rode off into the field, then hobbled to the bed. He picked the most recent finished book on Cash’s e-reader to read while he ate—two sausage and biscuits—and then downed his painkiller with relish. After a couple of chapters, he grew restless, so he set the tablet aside with a sigh and grabbed his crutches. He couldn’t just sit around for the next month and a half, right? He’d lose his mind. It would be like prison all over again, trapped in a tiny room with hardly anything to do.

It was a privilege to step outside and breathe fresh air. Even hobbling on his crutches, there was nothing quite like the crunch of grass under well-fitting boots. His eyes found Blaze immediately, grazing in a nearby field with a handful of other horses. He moved as fluid and graceful as always, and the sight eased the last remaining tension from Wilder’s bones. Blaze was okay, so he was okay. He didn’t fuck this up. Not yet, at least.

“Uncle Wilder!”

The words sent a jolt down his spine just like last time. He turned as Annalise raced across the yard toward him, her sandy hair whipping behind her.

“Hey, kid,” he said blankly.

“Daddy says you got hurt yesterday. Is your leg broken?”

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