Page 43 of Wild For You

The thought makes my heart flutter a little bit faster.

“Well, I wanted to.” I shrug, as though I’ve done this countless times before, and it’s no big deal. “I love cake, both baking and eating it. Back home, I use every opportunity to cook. My mom once owned a bakery, and as a child, I used to sit in the kitchen and eat all the raw dough.”

I don’t know why I’m disclosing this information to him. I should keep my mouth shut, and yet I can’t.

When he says nothing, I go on, trying to fill the silence. “Did I wake you? If I did, I’m sorry.”

“No. I couldn’t sleep.” His eyes are focused on me, too sharp, too penetrating.

“Is it the pain?” He nods in response. “Why don’t you take your painkillers, Cash?”

“I don’t like the way they make me feel.”

I want to point out that being in pain all the time will make it harder for him to find the necessary motivation for therapy. But I remain silent.

I watch him as he opens a cupboard.

“Coffee?” Cash asks. It’s the first time he’s offered me something. His half-eaten sandwich doesn’t count. I frown when he pushes a button and a panel slides out, revealing a state-of-the-art coffee maker.

“You’ve been hiding the coffee from me.” It isn’t a question, but a statement, with plenty of accusation in my tone.

I’m so astounded I don’t know whether I should be angry or laughing at his audacity.

I mean, who does that?

“I had to.” He’s not even denying it.

“You realize I’ve been forced to drink tea for days?” I shake my head. “Why did you hide it?”

Cash doesn’t reply. Keeping his back turned to me, I watch him fumble with the huge thing. Come to think of it, I don’t think I would have known how to use it anyway.

“Cash?” I prompt.

He turns around. “I didn’t think you would be staying.” He holds up his hand. “And before you decide to say it, I know it was childish of me.”

“More childish than the fact you’ve been hiding from me? Or that you switch off my water to make me want to pack up?”

He lets out a short laugh. “Okay. That was really bad. I’ve been a complete ass to you, haven’t I?”

“I would never call you an ass, Cash.” I take a step toward him, but not close enough to touch him. “You had a hard time. That’s all. But you’re definitely a work in progress.”

His brows shoot up. “Is that a good or a bad thing?”

“Depends on how you see it.”

The smell of coffee fills the air. I expect him to reply, when he closes the distance between us. His hand cups my face, his thumb brushing my cheek.

For a moment, all I can do is stare at his mouth, wondering whether he’s about to kiss me again.

Do Iwanthim to kiss me again?

Hell, yeah!

Even though he’s my—

“You have flour all over your face,” Cash says. His voice is so low and husky, he might as well have instructed me to take off my panties, and I wouldn’t be more flustered. My face flushes again.

I grab a towel from the counter to wipe my face with it when Cash takes it out of my hand and rubs my cheek gently. The gesture is so intimate that I forget to breathe.

---