Page 76 of Wild For You

Chapter Twenty-Two

Erin

Cash has madeit a habit to take me out for dinner, showing me around and introducing me to his friends and relatives.

It’s been three weeks since our first night together, and Madison Creek has slowly become my home. People in town were friendly before, but now that I’ve been seen with Cash on numerous occasions, they’ve started to treat me like one of their own. What’s strange is that Cash and I feel as though we’ve become a couple—without an official label on it.

He hasn’t taken our dating to the next level but his hand is always on me whenever we’re in a public place, our fingers intertwined or his lips brushing my cheek casually. Little stolen moments that always leave a tingle in their wake.

People have started to throw us little, mysterious smiles as if they’re suspecting that I’m falling for him. On some days, it feels as though Cash is falling for me, too.

I love the solitude Madison Creek has to offer. The pace is slower, more relaxed, which has started to rub off on me. Even my sister and Ally have noticed. But while I don’t feel that I’m changing, it seems as though my heart’s slowly falling into place.

For the first time in my life, I’m happy.

Truly happy.

I’ve found a wave of peace inside me that I haven’t felt in a long time. I’ve started to dream of possibilities.

I want this to last.

This Sunday is no different. After our usual morning therapy consisting of stretching and muscle training, followed by lunch, the phone rings and Cash excuses himself, muttering something about work.

The door to his office remains closed throughout the day. It’s late afternoon when I return from my gardening. The sun’s been relentlessly hot, and I’m eager to cool off.

After a quick shower, I find Cash still locked up in his office, the door ajar.

I barge in without knocking. “You won’t believe what I’ve just found.”

He’s sitting in his leather chair, surrounded by stacks of paper and five large accounting books. His eyes rise from the computer screen reluctantly, and I notice the black, rimmed glasses.

My heart skips a beat, and a sudden tingle gathers in my abdomen.

They fit him perfectly, almost as good as the tight white shirt he’s wearing. It gives the impression that he’s shy, not hot-tempered and impulsive.

“I had no idea you wear glasses.” My voice sounds oddly hoarse, strangled, what I came in for instantly forgotten, as hot waves of want travel through me.

Who knew I had a thing for guys in glasses? Or maybe it’s just Cash who has this strange effect on me. As if on cue, my nipples bead, two prominent peaks straining against the material of my shirt.

“These old things?” He places the glasses on the desk and rubs the bridge of his nose. “I don’t wear them often.”

“Why not? You look…” My voice breaks.

Sexy.

Obscenely hot.

“Yes?” Cash prompts, brows raised. There’s a playful glint in his eyes, as though he’s already figured out that he affects me in ways I’d rather not admit.

“Smart,” I say. “And bookish.”

A bit like Clark Kent—strong and clever and devilishly hot.

“Interesting choice of words.” In a few long strides, Cash has rounded the desk and reached the doorway, stopping only inches from me, and I can’t help but notice how smoothly he’s started to move. He’s barely leaning on his crutches any more. Give it a week or two, and I’ll replace his crutches with a cane. Give it another month or two, and he won’t even need a cane.

I smile, pleased with the progress he’s making.

“I like when you think I’m smart. Maybe I should wear them more often,” Cash says.

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