Page 36 of Wild For You

My eyes remain glued to her as I watch her greet Margaret as though they’ve been friends for a while. She fits right in and looks very much at home, chatting, laughing.

Her hair, which is usually tied up at the back of her neck, is flowing past her shoulders, silky soft and inviting. She’s dressed in a flowing, chiffon dress that makes her look like a beautiful nymph. I want to brush the shoulder strap aside and press my lips against her naked skin, wrap my arms around her and pull her onto my lap. The material of her dress is so thin, I wonder whether she’d feel just how hard I am for her…and whether she’d be turned on by it.

Then Margaret leaves, and Erin’s standing near the grill, the heat reflecting in her rosy cheeks.

Tipping the bottle back, I take a long swig as I watch her laughing with Ava and Shannon like she’s known them all her life.

I should yell and send them all home, but the barbecue smells delicious and Shannon’s one of the best cooks in the world.

Who says ‘no’ to homemade food?

“Having a good time?”

I turn to look at my dad who’s standing near the recliner, still wearing his uniform. His lined face doesn’t betray much emotion, but there’s a glint of worry in his eyes. This is my chance to give him a hard time, but he looks beat, like he’s had a long day already. Ever since my sister’s death, he’s had plenty of those and doesn’t quite seem to catch a break.

I can’t help but think that my injury has only added to his plate.

“Take a seat, Dad.” I point at the recliner next to mine and turn my gaze back to Erin, my eyes roaming over her body hungrily.

The recliner groans under Dad’s weight. We’re a big bunch—the Boyd men. It’s always served us well, particularly with the ladies.

“I meant well,” Dad starts.

“I know that.” I take another swig of my beer and grimace at the pain shooting through my hip. It’s the damn position. I need to shift every couple minutes or else I’ll end up blinded by pain.

Dad doesn’t just save people for a living. He’s saved his sons on more than one occasion by getting us out of trouble, and now he’s trying to save me again. Only, this time, there’s nothing he can do.

I feel bad for all the heartache I’ve caused him. I feel bad for adding to those lines on his face, which seem to get deeper with each passing year. And while he’s physically still the strong man who used to carry me around on his shoulders when I was a kid, his eyes have begun to tell a different story.

His getting too old to deal with his boys’ bullshit.

“I just want to see you happy and healthy. You know that, right?” Dad says slowly. “Your sister would say the same thing if she were here.”

I nod because that’s all the lump in my throat will allow me to do.

“Your brother’s been talking to you about the wedding?”

I shake my head. “Haven’t seen him much lately to give him a chance.”

“He’s afraid you won’t come. We all are. It would crush him not to have you at his wedding, Cash. Please, don’t tell me you’re skipping it. I know you two don’t always get along, but…”

The pain’s hidden well behind the unspoken reproach. I hate to hurt my family the way I’ve been doing ever since going pro. But I can’t let them dictate my life.

“I will be there. You know that.”

“How can you when you—”

Can’t stand straight for longer than five minutes, let alone walk?

That’s what he wants to ask, but is too afraid to. What everyone wants to know. Hell, I want to know that, too.

“Go get something to eat, Dad. This is a party, after all.” Even though the way everyone seems to tiptoe around me, avoiding speaking about the obvious, it might just as well be a funeral.

Dad gets up. “Your birthday gift is in the garage.”

I look up at him and nod. I don’t have to ask what it is.

In a weak moment, Margaret already told me what they were planning on buying. The entire idea seemed absurd, at first, but now that Dad’s mentioned the garage, I’m sure she wasn’t lying.

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