Page 75 of Wild For You

Cash leans back with an amused gaze, his eyes roaming over my body slowly.

“Well?” I prompt. My hands move instinctively to the napkins, eager to find something to hold on to.

“Is my presence making you nervous?” Cash asks.

“What?” I blink once, twice, my brain fighting to come up with an answer. Should I reveal the truth—that I’ve never been more nervous in my entire life? Or should I lie and risk that he’ll see right through me?

“That’s a good thing,” Cash says, taking my silence as a yes. “It means you’re attracted to me.”

Which is an understatement. I’ve been attracted to men before. What Cash does to me is different. It’s like his presence is all consuming, heightening my senses, making me want to do things I never imagined I’d want to do.

Like beg him to cut this date short and take me back to bed.

Or invite him into the restaurant’s bathroom for a quickie. Given the expensive flair, I wouldn’t be surprised to find it furnished with a plush little sofa in case its rich clientele might be seeking a quick tryst of the horizontal kind.

“You’re right. I am attracted to you,” I say slowly.

More than he’ll ever know.

And not just to his body, or his perfect smile, but also to the way he looks at me as, if he genuinely wants to find out who I am. His green pupils dilate whenever he peers at me, and his lips keep curving into a wicked smile, as though his own private movie is playing before his eyes…and it’s very dirty.

Suddenly, I want to kiss him.

Take him into my mouth.

I want all of it. All of him.

My hands grab the wine glass. Swirling the red liquid, I try to sound calm and steady as I ask, “You said you wanted to know more about me. What exactly do you want to know?”

His gaze betrays his surprise, and for a second, I fear that he’ll ask about my past. And not just the usual generic stuff, but something more personal for which I’m not ready.

What the hell was I thinking giving him carte blanche to ask whatever he wants to know?

“Tell me whatever you want, Erin,” Cash says.

“There isn’t much to tell,” I lie, my hands clammy.

“I don’t believe that.” His hand reaches over the table to intertwine his fingers with mine. “Help me understand what’s going on in that beautiful head of yours. We both know you had plenty of other opportunities to choose from. Yet you decided to come here. What pulled you to Montana? And don’t say money. We both know that wouldn’t be the whole truth.”

I smirk and break our eye contact. “Do they serve stuffed ravioli? I haven’t had that in a while.”

“Possibly.” He squeezes my hand gently. “You’re terrible at changing the subject.”

“Maybe.” I glance at him pleadingly, my insides turning hot and cold. “I’ve always wanted to see Montana.”

“I’m sure. But what’s your secret, Erin?”

I frown at his question. “Why would you assume I have a secret?”

“Everyone does.” He looks at me for a moment. “What’s the real reason you’re here?”

I swallow past the sudden lump in my throat. This is the time to tell him and yet— “I can’t expose my soul. Please, just drop it.”

Cash nods, and then he gets up and pulls his chair closer. His arms wrap around me, cradling me, soothing me. My eyes fill with tears at his unspoken empathy. My head settles against his chest, the material of his shirt soaking up the tears spilling down my cheeks.

I don’t want to cry. I haven’t in years, but the fact that I’m sitting here with this man, on the verge of revealing my biggest mistake—my biggest failure—tears up old wounds. Because the truth is much more horrible than he could ever imagine. He might not even understand, and the last thing I want is for him to think I’m a monster.

“It’s okay,” Cash whispers, his deep voice soothing me.

I shake my head grimly.

Maybe everything’s okay now, but once he knows my secret, nothing will be the same again. Whatever he sees in me now, will be a thing of the past, a beautiful farce just like everything else I portray.

During dinner, we keep quiet about my past. Instead, Cash tells me stories about his days in college and all the stupid things he has ever done. And I find myself laughing and forgetting, if only for a while.

The service is impeccable and the food delicious. My taste buds fall in love with the King Crab appetizer, the grilled octopus, and crayfish stuffed ravioli. As we leave the restaurant, countless sparkling stars dot the night sky. Cash stops to place a soft kiss on my lips, and as I savor his taste and scent, my heart both races and falls, plummeting into new depths.

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