Wilder Heart (Blackwood Ranch)

Chapter 17

CHAPTER 17

CASH

T he only thing worse than watching Wilder fall was watching him struggle through his pain afterward. When they got back to the house, Mary-Beth and Annalise were waiting outside with the ambulance. It looked starkly out of place in the ranch’s circular drive, lights blinking discordantly. Cash left the horses in the hands of a part-time groom and hauled Wilder off Hexie’s back, whispering apologies and endearments as he hissed in pain at the movement.

“What happened?” Mary-Beth asked, waddling over as quickly as her swollen belly would allow. She was about six months along now, and the twins were beginning to wear on her.

“I don’t know,” Cash said. “The saddle came loose. Blaze and Wilder went down. He was nearly trampled by the herd. He got really lucky.”

“Lucky you were there,” Wilder said, leaning on him heavily. “You rerouted the herd with that shot. Had nothing to do with luck.”

Cash shook his head. It hadn’t felt that way at the time. For one wild moment, he’d been certain he was about to watch Wilder die. His brain disconnected from his body, which reacted with zero thought. Everything was a blur until he was in the dirt with Wilder’s face in his hands. He never wanted to feel panic like that again.

He unclipped the radio from his belt and passed it to Mary-Beth. “Here. I’ll call or text with updates. Tell Lain we made it safe, okay?”

“Of course. If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to call.”

Cash moved to nod, but Wilder interrupted them as the EMTs helped him toward the ambulance, where the stretcher was waiting. “We’re not fucking doing that. She looks fit to pop. She should be laying down with a bag of chips, not stressing over my careless ass.”

Annalise stifled her giggle behind her hand, and Mary-Beth looked reluctantly amused.

“Your leg could be broken,” Cash argued.

“Okay. That’s nothing compared to growing real-life humans.”

“They mostly grow themselves,” she remarked.

Cash reluctantly handed Wilder over to the EMTs, watching warily as they helped him hobble over to the stretcher on the ground behind the ambulance.

To Cash, under her breath, Mary-Beth added, “Seriously, if you need anything …”

“I will let you know,” he promised.

“Do you really think it’s broken?”

He sighed, lifting his hat to card his fingers through his short hair. The EMTs were getting Wilder settled on the stretcher and preparing to lift him up into the back. “I don’t think so, but he can’t bend his knee. He’ll be out of commission for at least a few weeks, probably, and that’s already weighing on him.”

“He’s not a man who likes to be idle. I’ve seen the way he works around here.”

Cash pursed his lips. “He doesn’t think he’s allowed to be.”

Her face slackened with understanding and sympathy. “He can take all the time he needs to heal. Make sure he knows that, okay?”

“I’ll do my best. He’s a stubborn one.”

Her crystal blue eyes studied him intently. “We’ll just have to show him, then.”

Did she suspect the true breadth of his feelings for Wilder? Was he so obvious?

The ambulance driver turned toward him. “We’re taking him in. Are either of you coming along?”

They’d need a way to get back to the ranch when Wilder was released, so Cash said, “I’ll follow behind you in my truck.” He rushed over to the back, where the door was still open. Wilder looked nervous, his brow furrowing when he saw Cash. “I’ll be right behind the ambulance, okay? I’m going to get my truck and meet you there.”

Wilder fidgeted with the strap that went across his lap. “Okay.”

Cash longed to clamber into the ambulance and give him a kiss goodbye, but he wouldn’t do that while Mary-Beth and Annalise were watching. Not yet, at least. Wilder wasn’t ready for them to know about their relationship—and it was a relationship, as far as he was concerned—so Cash would keep it quiet for now, as promised. He wouldn’t hide forever, no, but it could wait until this crisis had passed.

He stayed on the ambulance’s bumper for the whole drive, with his hazard lights flashing so everyone they passed would know he was with them. The only time he separated from them was when he got to the hospital. He had to find a parking spot while they unloaded Wilder. They were already inside by the time he entered, but the nurse at the desk told him what room they went into.

The Rose County hospital, despite being the only one in the county with an emergency room, was quiet. The ER was empty, as silent as a library. Wilder seemed to be the only patient there, and when Cash rounded the door, he looked up from his lap, relief blossoming on his face.

“Hey,” Cash said, rushing to his side and taking his hand. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Wilder croaked. But he didn’t look okay. Stress lined his face, and he was paler than normal.

“What’s going on? Tell me what’s wrong. Are you in pain?”

“No, no. They hooked me up to an IV in the ambulance. Pretty sure there was morphine in it. But the ride over and the hallway out there, the enclosed walls, it all just reminds me of…” He trailed off.

Prison. It reminded him of prison.

Cash leaned over him, guiding his head up and kissing him firmly. Wilder sighed into it, his hands fisting in Cash’s shirt like he wanted to pull him closer. It was a heady feeling to be wanted by such a beautiful man.

When they parted, Wilder looked dazed. “ That’s nothing like prison.”

Cash smiled. “Good.”

After that, it was a lot of sitting and waiting. Cash refused to go anywhere further than the lobby for coffee. Doctors and nurses came and went. They wheeled Wilder out for an X-ray and MRI at separate occasions. While he was gone, Cash texted Mary-Beth and Lain in a group chat. Lain wouldn’t see it until he was close enough to civilization for a signal again, but he could read them when he got back. Mary-Beth could update him in the meantime over the radio, as planned.

Finally, hours after they arrived in a flurry, the doctor informed them that Wilder had a partial tear of a ligament in his knee. Not the ACL, which Cash only knew about because it was the big sports injury that took out Wayne’s favorite quarterback last season. The doctor said he should be as good as new in four to six weeks, but he needed to avoid bending or using his leg between now and then. They gave him crutches and a medical wrap to keep his knee straight during the day.

Getting in the truck was an ordeal. He thought Wilder might have to sit in the back with his leg laying across the seats, but they managed to get him in the passenger seat by sliding it as far back as it would go, which gave him enough room to keep his braced leg straight.

Wilder was subdued as they left the hospital’s maze-like parking lot, and Cash wracked his brain for something to cheer him up. It was going to take time for him to see that getting hurt and being forced to rest wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

They’d been at the hospital for hours, and it was near dinnertime. They could probably both use a little boost to get them through the rest of the evening, so when the local coffee place came into view, he turned into the parking lot.

Wilder perked up, turning away from the window to look at him. “What are we doing here?”

“Getting expensive, sugary coffee.”

Wilder snorted out a laugh. “What? Why?”

Cash pointed at his smile. “For that right there.”

Wilder softened, relaxing against the seat. “I don’t need…” He trailed off as they came to a stop in front of the drive-thru’s menu board. “I don’t even know what half of that is . This place wasn’t here eight years ago.”

“Yeah, I know, but they’re all pretty much the same. You can’t go wrong with any of this, really. Do you like chocolate? Caramel?”

“I don’t know . Just get me whatever you get, I guess.”

Cash chuckled. He ordered two caramel macchiatos and struggled not to laugh again when he saw Wilder mouthing the word ‘macchiato’ in the corner of his eye.

When they got their drinks, he waited, watching, as Wilder took his first sip. His brows rose and he took another sip right away.

He was pretty sure Wilder had something of a sweet tooth, and he tucked that information away for future exploitation. If sugary snacks kept him happy, Cash had no problem funding this harmless addiction.

Once they were back out on the road, Cash said, “If you want, I’ll drop you off at your room and go give Lain an update for you.”

Wilder looked over at him unreadably. “You’d do that?”

“Yes. I told you, if you aren’t ready to talk to him, I can handle him for now.”

“For now,” Wilder repeated.

Cash inclined his head. “Yes, for now. He’s your brother, for better or worse. I don’t think you can get away with never speaking to him again, no matter how much you both might think that’s what you want.”

“That is what he wants,” Wilder said wearily.

“We’ll have to agree to disagree on that, because I don’t think that’s true.”

Wilder sighed, turning his gaze out the window. “I… I’d appreciate it if you’d update him about what the doctor said.”

Cash nodded sagely. “I will do that. And then I’ll bring you something from the kitchen for dinner.”

“I have crutches. I can get it myself.”

“No, I want you to take those pills they said would make you sleepy, and after you eat, go right to bed.”

Wilder smiled faintly. “You don’t have to mother me, Cash.”

“I’m not mothering you, Wilder, I’m caring about you. That’s what this feels like.” He meant it as a joke, but he realized his error when a bleak look crossed Wilder’s face. He didn’t know what it felt like to be cared about like this.

Thankfully, his expression changed quickly to something soft and warm. “Fine,” he agreed, “you big sap. Would you like to tuck me in, too?”

“Of course,” Cash responded matter-of-factly. “Promise to keep that leg straight and still and I’ll even suck you off when I do.”

Wilder barked out a laugh, throwing his head back with it. “If I didn’t think you’d pull over and strangle me, I’d make a joke about needing to be thrown from a horse more often if it gets me this kind of treatment.”

“I promise I’ll treat you this way all the time if you never get thrown from a horse again. My heart can’t take the stress.”

“I’m not sure I can promise that. But I’ll do my best not to need any more hospital trips.” He ducked his head, plucking at the velcro of the leg wrap.

“That’d be nice.”

By the time they got back to Blackwood Ranch, Wilder had drained his coffee and set the empty cardboard cup aside. Contentment radiated from him, despite his injury. The sunlight was fading when they arrived, silhouetting the house, and all the ranch hands’ horses were gathered in the paddock, including Blaze. Wilder gave him a long, lingering look as the truck passed the fence. Cash promised himself that he would go and take a look at the horse before he turned in for the night.

He stopped the truck in front of Wilder’s room and turned off the engine. Before Wilder could get out of the passenger seat, Cash was there, taking his weight and helping him out. He grabbed Wilder’s crutches from the backseat and handed them to him, hovering at Wilder’s side as he made his way to the door.

“Before I go and speak to Lain,” Cash said, “I wanted to ask if you had any idea what happened to the saddle before you fell.”

Wilder sat down on the bed and laid his crutches on the mattress beside him. “I don’t know.” He shook his head. “I was pissed at Billy. I wasn’t paying much attention when I got on Blaze. I can’t even remember if I checked the saddle before I mounted.”

Cash took his hat off and ran his fingers through his hair. “Did you notice any problems with the saddle before lunch?”

“No, not at all. That’s why I’m even more mad at myself for not stopping to check it after lunch.”

Cash’s heart squeezed for him. “You might not have seen anything wrong with it.”

“I know, but I should’ve checked.”

Cash sighed quietly. It was true, he should have. It was riding protocol to check the saddle and bridle before mounting a horse. Wilder certainly should have checked them before mounting Blaze after lunch. It was obvious in the slump of Wilder’s shoulders that he blamed himself for what happened. And he wasn’t alone, because Cash blamed himself, too. As the foreman of the ranch, he should have put a stop to Wilder and Billy’s argument before it got so heated. He should have reached out and stopped Wilder before he jumped on Blaze and rode off. He wouldn’t have let any other ranch hand get away with that, and his judgment had been compromised because of the tension between Lain and Wilder—and his own feelings for Wilder.

He took a breath to say as much when a knock on the door interrupted them. He blew the air back out as he turned around and opened the door.

Clyde offered him a tight smile. “Saw you boys pull up, thought I’d bring Wilder something to eat so he didn’t have to walk to the kitchen.” He passed a brown paper bag to Cash, who took it with a smile.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Wilder said from the bed.

Clyde shrugged one shoulder. “No big deal. I was in the kitchen anyway. How’s the leg?”

“It’s fine,” Wilder said stubbornly, despite the medical wrap and crutches indicating that it was obviously not fine.

Clyde looked at Cash for the truth, and Wilder huffed.

“He tore a ligament. His… MCL, I think? Doc said he’ll be down for four to six weeks.”

Clyde grimaced sympathetically. “Tough break, but it could’ve been a lot worse.”

“That it could. Thanks for this.” He raised the bag.

“Don’t thank me. It’s just a couple of sandwiches.” Clyde gave them a wave. “I’m turning in. Night, you two.”

Alone again, Cash handed Wilder the sack and then fetched him a bottle of water from the mini fridge across the room. When he set the bottle on the bedside table, their eyes met. Wilder’s head was tipped back to look up at him, exposing the long column of his sun-tanned throat. It should be unfair for any man to look so good while doing nothing .

“I should go and let Lain know we’re back.”

“Mm-hm.” Wilder’s tongue darted out to lick his lips. The wire pulled taut between them, thrumming with tension, and Cash couldn’t resist, cradling Wilder’s face in his hands and leaning in to trace the path Wilder’s tongue had taken with his own, pressing inside and swallowing Wilder’s needy moan.

“Can I come back and check on you after?” he asked between deep, drugging kisses.

“I may be offended if you don’t.” Wilder’s voice was husky, his eyes heavy-lidded with want.

“Good. I’ll be back soon, then. Eat and take your pill while I’m gone.”

“ Fine ,” he groused, and Cash kissed him once more for good measure before he peeled himself away to go and do the responsible thing.

Outside Lain’s office, Cash wiped his mouth one last time with the back of his hand, and then knocked on the door to announce his presence. Behind the desk, Lain sat back with an expression of relief when he saw Cash standing in the doorway.

“Oh thank God, you’re back.” He gestured for Cash to take a seat across from him. “What did the doctor say? How’s Wilder?”

Cash bobbed his head. “Wilder is okay. I dropped him off at his room, and Clyde brought him something to eat. He’s got some painkillers from the doctor, and I told him to take one when he finished eating. The doc said that he tore a ligament in his knee, and he’ll need to stay off it for the next four to six weeks.”

Lain exhaled sharply. “Well, it could be worse. He can have as much time as he needs, of course. How is he taking it? He’s always been restless.”

“He’s been better,” Cash said. “He blames himself for what happened. To be honest, I don’t think he’s totally at fault. I think I might be as much to blame as he is, if not more.”

Lain passed a hand over his face. “It’s been years since I’ve ridden with Wilder, but I always remember him being a stickler for protocol when it came to riding. If there’s one thing he knows, it’s how to handle a horse. Even after all that time away, I can’t imagine he’d have put a saddle on wrong.”

The best course of action was to be as honest as possible, so Cash said exactly what he was thinking. “Honestly, boss, Wilder wasn’t the one who put the saddle on Blaze this morning, anyway. It was his first day riding with us, and he seemed a little nervous, so I got the saddle for him. He was standing by my side the whole time, but I’m the one who secured it. If there was something wrong with the saddle, it was my fault. Not his.”

Lain looked surprised. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you saddle a horse for one of the hands before.”

Cash didn’t have a good excuse for it. “Well—truthfully, I like Wilder. He’s a hard worker, and I think he’s a good man. He’s had a hard time of it, and I’ve come to consider him something of a friend.” That barely scratched the surface of what he actually felt, but he’d promised Wilder that he wouldn’t say anything about their relationship yet.

The shadow of a frown crossed Lain’s face. “I’m glad you think so. He’s a stranger to me now. I don’t know how to talk to him. Every conversation feels like a minefield. I didn’t even know he was gay, for crying out loud.”

Cash scrambled for something to say. “Well, that kind of thing is very personal. Maybe there’s a good reason why he never told you. It sounds like things between him and your father were pretty tense. He was probably afraid telling anyone would risk it getting back to him.”

“I thought we were closer than that, though,” Lain said. “I thought he trusted me.”

Cash shook his head. He didn’t know what to say without giving more away than he meant to.

Lain sighed. “I just don’t understand. I thought we shared everything back then. Hell, we used to joke about having so much in common that we’d wind up going after the same woman one day. He never indicated to me that he might be gay.”

“Is it—a problem?” He wouldn’t have pegged Lain as homophobic, but he’d been wrong about people in the past.

“No, of course not. I don’t care that he’s gay. I care that he never told me.” Lain’s troubled gaze was distant, searching his memories of the past. “Maybe we were never as close as I thought we were. Maybe he always held me at a distance, and I just didn’t know. I used to tell him everything. I thought we had no secrets. He obviously had sides of himself that he kept hidden.”

Cash wanted to strangle them both. “Why don’t you go and ask him?”

Lain shook his head immediately. “No, I can’t. It’s been a long day for everyone as it is. I don’t want to bring all of that up right now. He needs his rest.”

While that was true, Cash also had a feeling neither of them would truly rest easy until they talked .

“I think the best thing for us to do is just keep our distance,” Lain insisted.

It would be unprofessional to call his boss an idiot, even if he deserved it, so Cash inclined his head. “I respectfully disagree, but it’s your call, boss.” He slapped his knees and stood, assuming that was all for now.

“Oh, Cash, before I forget. There’s a big cattle auction over in Bozeman coming up next month.” He winced. “I’m hesitant to go, because it’s a little closer than I’d like to Mary-Beth’s due date, and the doctor warned us twins are often born premature—hell, Wilder and I were a little over a month early. But she insisted that she’d be fine here at home while I’m gone. I’d like you to come. We should have the cattle settled by then, and the hands can handle a couple of days without you, right? You’ve always had a good eye for new stock. I’d like your opinion before I make any big purchases.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d tagged along to a cattle auction, but this time, he hesitated. Things between Billy and Wilder were tense, and that would be on the tail end of Wilder’s recovery.

Still, they could use some more cattle to pad the herd.

“Sure, boss. I’d be happy to come. I can put Clyde in charge while I’m gone.”

Lain brightened. “Great. I’ll text you the details later. I don’t want to spend more than one night away, so it’ll be a quick trip.”

They said their goodbyes, and Cash slipped gratefully out into the night.

His eyes snagged on movement right away. Wilder was at the horse barn, leaning against the fence with his crutches propped up beside him, watching Blaze rest. Exasperated fondness filled him as he crossed the yard. He should’ve known Wilder wouldn’t stay put and rest.

“He’s okay,” Cash said as he approached. “You have nothing to feel guilty about.”

“I should have noticed something was wrong with the saddle.”

“I’m the one who put the saddle on in the first place, Wilder,” Cash said, glancing around to make sure they were alone and then wrapping his arms around the man from behind. He expected Wilder to tense at the touch, since he was so worried about others finding out about them, so he was surprised when Wilder melted against him instead, like the effort of holding himself up had been almost too much to bear.

“You wouldn’t have put it on wrong,” Wilder said with certainty.

“I don’t think so, no.” He’d been saddling horses for about twenty-five years now, and this had never happened before. He was also familiar with that saddle, even used it himself some in the past.

“How did it come loose, then?”

Cash ducked his head, pressing a kiss to Wilder’s neck. “I’ll look at the saddle in the morning. Right now, you need to get back to bed. You’re supposed to be resting.”

“I know. I just wanted to check on him.” His fingers threaded through Cash’s, and Cash’s stomach swooped. “What did Lain say?”

“He asked how you were and said you could have all the time you need to heal, as I expected. He also said he remembered you being very good with horses growing up, and he couldn’t imagine this accident had been your fault.”

Wilder was quiet for a handful of heartbeats, and then he gave a telltale sniffle.

Cash’s heart squeezed at the sound, and his arms tightened around him. “Wilder.”

“No, I’m fine, it’s just dust.”

Cash guided his face toward him and kissed him sweetly. “If you say so.” He reached for the crutches and handed them to him. “Now, come on. I promised to tuck you in. Did you take your pill?”

Wilder tucked the crutches under his arm. “Yes, mother.”

“Don’t sass me, young man.”

It was hard for Wilder to get up the slight hill before the bunkhouse, and by the time they got back to his room, he was panting. Cash closed the door behind them and left the lights off, laying the crutches just under the side of the bed while Wilder collapsed on the mattress.

“Walking with crutches isn’t supposed to be so complicated.”

“Well, you’re also dealing with an injury, and you’ve had a very long day. You’re tired.” He pressed closer, and Wilder’s legs widened to make room for him between them.

“I am,” Wilder admitted, looking up at him.

“You should rest, then.” He tugged Wilder’s shirt off. “Do you want a shower?”

Wilder shook his head. “I probably should, but I don’t want to struggle through it right now. I’ll try in the morning.”

“I think that’s probably for the best.” He’d still be in pain tomorrow, but at least he’d be more alert. The last thing he needed was to fall because he was too tired.

His body was riddled with bruises. He was lucky he didn’t have any broken ribs. The right side of his back and shoulder had taken the brunt of his fall. He was sore today, but he’d be lucky if he made it out of bed tomorrow. The bruises were deep, and Cash could already imagine the kaleidoscope of color they would become as they healed. Blue, purple, sickly brown, green, and yellow. Wilder would be stiff as a board tomorrow. Blaze landing on his leg was obviously the worst injury, but none of it would be pleasant for the next few days.

Wilder sighed, looking down at the dark blue medical wrap around his right leg. “How am I supposed to put up with this for the next month and a half?”

Cash lowered himself to his knees and heard Wilder’s breath hitch. He gently loosened the velcro straps, unwrapped the brace, and left it on the floor by the crutches. Then he leaned in, pressing a kiss to Wilder’s warm chest, thanking God for the strong pulse that fluttered below his lips, and reached for Wilder’s belt.

Wilder uttered a moan, leaning back on his hands to make room. He was a vision, his lean, muscular body stretched out just for Cash. His fingers fumbled with the belt, button, and zipper as he kissed his way down Wilder’s body, pressing his smile against his skin as Wilder’s stomach quivered at the touch.

One hand gripped Cash’s shoulder hard. “Please…” Wilder whimpered.

“Maybe we shouldn’t,” Cash said, sucking a mark into his hip. “You’re going to hurt so bad tomorrow. I don’t want to contribute in any way.”

“I guarantee I’ll sleep better if we do,” Wilder said breathlessly. “If you leave me like this, I’ll just do it myself.”

Cash chuckled, hooking his fingers in Wilder’s jeans and boxer briefs and pulling both down at once. “So I should stay and help? That’s what you’re saying?”

“Definitely. You’d be making things easier on me. I won’t have to do all the work.”

Cash gently worked his jeans and boxers down his legs and off, tossing them somewhere away. And then Wilder was naked for the first time while Cash was still fully dressed. He sat back on his heels, stroking his hands up and down Wilder’s hairy thighs and looking his fill. A jagged scar darkened one lower rib on his left side, and he reached for it, brushing a thumb across it. Wilder shivered.

“What’s this from?” He couldn’t begin to guess. It looked like a cut of some kind, deeper on one side and shallower on the other.

“I don’t know exactly. A shiv of some kind. I think it was a toothbrush he’d melted down to a sharp point.”

Cash looked up at him in shock. “What?”

“A shiv,” Wilder said again, like that was what stumped him. “A prison shiv. You know, a makeshift?—”

“I know what a shiv is. They—somebody tried to hurt you like that?”

“Tried to,” Wilder said coolly. “I handled it.”

“You shouldn’t have had to.” Rage was burning through Cash, hotter and brighter than he could ever remember feeling.

Wilder’s hands guided his face up until they were sharing breath. “I hate to break it to you, but that’s not the only one.”

Cash growled, and Wilder grinned.

“Don’t tell me that,” Cash said.

“I like that you care so much.” Wilder bit his lip, nodding. “It’s scary—but exhilarating. Nobody else ever has.”

“I do care.” More than he wanted to admit. He cared so much he was pretty sure the full breadth of it would send Wilder running. He was as skittish and wary as Blaze.

With a sigh, he tugged one of Wilder’s hands away—the one with the knuckle tattoos—and kissed each letter. He wanted to ask if the letters really meant what Clyde said they did, but now wasn’t the time. Right now, he just wanted to show Wilder how happy he was that he was okay.

“Lay back, get comfortable, and let me make you feel good.” He helped Wilder pull the blankets back and stretch out. Wilder groaned as he lifted his leg, and once he was flat, Cash clambered over him.

He had no idea where to start. Wilder was laid out like a feast, the suntanned planes of his skin bared just for him.

And then Wilder reached for him. “Cash, come here, please.”

He fell forward, careful to keep his weight from Wilder’s bad side, and sealed their mouths together. Kissing Wilder felt like coming home. It felt like the open road, like springtime sun through open windows, like the first mile toward forever. Wilder kissed like he was starving for something only Cash could give him. It was a heady feeling. He’d been gifted with Wilder’s trust, and that wasn’t given lightly.

He kissed his way down Wilder’s neck and chest, savoring each taste of his skin like new. The smell of the hospital had lingered in his clothing, but here, it was all him. His spicy musk, the salt of the morning. He stopped at the hardened peak of a nipple, flicking it with his tongue and then sucking it into his mouth. He teased the other with his hand, rolling the nub between his thumb and forefinger. Wilder writhed, grabbing Cash by the hips and pulling their groins flush, one of Cash’s thighs squeezed between his own and giving them both something to rut against.

Cash reached down with his free hand, pressing Wilder’s right hip into the bed. “No. Be still.”

“I don’t want to,” Wilder whined. “Want to feel you. Why are you still wearing so many goddamn clothes ?”

Cash pulled off his nipple with a pop that made Wilder arch up against him. “Because this isn’t about me. Tonight is about you. When I finally get naked with you, I intend for us both to be healthy and ready for it.”

“Oh, I’m ready for it,” Wilder said as Cash worked his way down his body, nuzzling the dark trail of hair down the middle of his stomach.

He licked the mark he’d left on Wilder’s hip and laid one hand on Wilder’s right thigh. “Does this hurt?”

“No. The hurt is farther down.”

“Good. Want to make sure you don’t move your leg too much.”

Wilder groaned, and his cock jerked, like the idea of being held down was exciting.

“Oh, do you like that?” Cash teased, licking a long, wet stripe up Wilder’s length.

Wilder blew out a slow, measured breath. “I might.”

“Holding you down?”

“Mm-hm.” Wilder pressed his lips tightly together, his hips flexing and going nowhere thanks to Cash’s firm grip. “There’s—not many people I’d let do it.”

Cash smiled, stroking his thumb back and forth on Wilder’s hairy thigh. “I know.” It was a privilege to be trusted so much.

He angled Wilder’s cock upright and suckled the bead of bitter precum from the tip.

“Cash, please God ,” Wilder whined in frustration, and Cash snorted out a laugh.

Reminding himself they’d both had a long day and Wilder really needed to sleep, he stopped teasing and took him deeper into his mouth, sucking as he pulled off and then taking him back down. He worked up a slow, steady rhythm of that, dragging his tongue along the underside of Wilder’s cock with each pass. Low groans left Wilder on every exhale, his limbs trembling as he fought the urge to move. His good knee rose, planting his foot flat on the bed beside Cash.

It didn’t take long before Wilder’s fingers wound into his hair. “I’m—I’m gonna come?—”

Cash took him deep with a greedy hum, and Wilder’s cock swelled and jerked. Bitter cum spilled down his throat, and Wilder shouted hoarsely, one hand twisting in the sheets viciously while the other combed through Cash’s hair, careful not to grip too tight. It was a small gesture but a sweet one, that Wilder was mindful of his comfort even when he was so far swept up in his own pleasure.

Wilder’s body went lax, and Cash smiled as he slid away and dragged the blankets over him. He sat on the edge of the bed, pressing the heel of his hand to his own cock. He could take his time with his hand after this, replaying the sight of Wilder’s desperately undulating body in his mind. First, he wanted to make sure Wilder was comfortable.

“Still with me, or did you fall asleep?” he whispered.

“I’m with you. Sort of.” Wilder smiled, blinking his eyes open. His cheeks were flushed, and he tangled his fingers with Cash’s. “You sure you won’t let me take care of you? Doesn’t seem fair that you get a taste and I don’t.”

“Rain check. When you’re not hurt.” He sighed, thinking about how good it would feel to be skin to skin with him. “Six weeks from now, I’ll have my way with you.”

Wilder’s brows rose, and the color on his cheeks darkened. “Have your way with me? I like the sound of that. Please do have your way with me. Have your way with me many times in a row.”

“That’s the plan.” Sobering, he said, “I have to ride out with the others in the morning again and finish moving the herd. I’d really like you to stay in bed as much as possible. I have a feeling you’re going to hurt pretty bad tomorrow.”

“I’ve had worse.”

Cash covered Wilder’s mouth with his hand, and Wilder snorted out a laugh, pulling it away.

“What if I promise I made them pay? Would that help or make it worse?” His gaze was assessing. This was a test. Did he want to know how much Cash could stomach about his past?

Cash considered his answer seriously before responding, tugging Wilder’s hand into his lap and spreading his fingers out, facedown. He traced the letters with his fingertip, and Wilder’s fingers flexed against his thigh.

“I’d like to hear about it sometime,” he finally said. “When you’re ready to talk about it. I don’t want you to think there’s any part of your past that I’d turn away from. It might be hard to hear about some of the things you’ve had to go through, I won’t lie. But you went through them. The least I can do is listen and be understanding.”

Wilder’s eyes swam with emotion in the dim light streaming in through the gap between the curtains. “Even if I did bad things? Even if I hurt people?”

Softening, Cash leaned down and kissed him, slow and sweet. Wilder melted into it, chasing his mouth when he tried to pull away.

“Even if,” he promised. “You survived, and I’m so glad.”

Wilder’s sigh gusted against his damp lips. “You’re too good for the likes of me, Cash Arden.”

“Good is subjective, and I think you’re wonderful.” He pecked him one last time on the mouth. “Now, get some rest. Promise me you’ll try to stay in bed for a while tomorrow and take it easy if you’re hurting.”

“I’ll do my best—although it’s really boring in here.”

“I’ll drop my e-reader by before I leave in the morning.”

Wilder’s eyes widened. “You’d do that?”

“Absolutely. Just don’t make fun of my books.” He had a little of everything on that e-reader. Fantasy, science fiction, romance. Surely Wilder could find something that interested him.

He smiled. “Never.”

“Good night, Wilder.”

Wilder’s eyes were already slipping closed. “Night, Cash.”