Page 82 of Wild For You

Chapter Twenty-Three

Erin

Something’s going on.

I can’t pinpoint what it is, but the bad feeling has been building deep inside my gut ever since I caught Cash’s tense stare at his phone. He kept his distance throughout the following therapy session, working hard but barely acknowledging my attempts at lightening up the mood.

I don’t know what the sudden change means, but I don’t like it.

Maybe Cash is just pushing his own boundaries, his initial hesitation replaced with a stubbornness that is almost frightening. Maybe he’s being too hard on himself, and it’s taking a mental toll on him. Doing physical therapy three hours a day, sometimes twice a day, is bound to backfire at some point. I’ve tried to slow him down, but he keeps assuring me that he doesn’t feel the pain, that he’s okay. And then he continues pushing as though he’s running out of time.

For some reason, I know his sudden obsession has nothing to do with me.

Something is wrong, yet at the same time, I feel like I’m being overly suspicious.

It’s not helping that Shannon called in to ask in a not so subtle way if Cash had mentioned anything about bull riding. He hasn’t so far, but I can’t shake off the feeling that she doesn’t believe it. I hung up with the promise to watch out for him and report back to her in case he behaved strange, which apparently he always does after an accident, right before he returns to that passion of his.

Her words have only amplified my worry. As much as I want to pretend nothing’s happening with him, I can’t shake off the feeling that he’s not being completely honest, neither with his family nor with me. I can’t help but think that he’s doubled his efforts during physical therapy to get back in the saddle.

By the end of the week, I’ve had enough. I have to get to the bottom of this.

After the evening therapy session, I follow him into the kitchen. His back is drenched in sweat, the shirt clinging to his sexy body.

Fighting the urge to touch him, I rest my elbows on the counter and proceed to watch him as he prepares his usual protein shake. “Ever intend to show me your secret room?”

He doesn’t have to show me anything, but I hope he’ll open up to me, I only to scatter my doubts. A room tells only so much about a person, but with some luck, I might find a hint as to what he’s up to.

Cash downs his drink before nodding. “I’ll show you. There’s nothing much to see though.” He places his glass in the sink and heads out, calling over his shoulder, “Are you coming?”

“Now?”

“Why not? Do you have other plans?”

“No. I—”

“Let’s go, then.”

I let Cash lead the way, following a step behind. Excitement pulses through me as we cross his bedroom.

I’ve been in his bedroom countless times, but I never noticed anything out of the ordinary. I glance around the room, unsure what we’re doing in here. “So, where is it exactly?”

His hand on the low of my back, the gesture intimate. My breath hitches, and I fight the urge to wrap my arms around his neck and draw his mouth into a deep kiss.

“I’ll show you.”

We enter his walk-in closet. I frown as I scan the male clothes and rows of shoes.

There’s also a suitcase and a black bag.

This isn’t the secret room I spied in the blueprints, the one that leads to the backyard. Either he has a second one, or he doesn’t want to show me that particular space after all.

He shoves the shirts aside to reveal a large mirror on the wall.

“Look closer.” He places himself behind me, his gaze fixed on the image of us.

“What am I supposed to see?” I narrow my eyes. It looks like an ordinary mirror.

He reaches past my shoulder, his lips brushing my earlobe as he whispers, “This.”

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