Maybe another night I’ll ask about the rivalry with the Callahans. In New York, we don’t have “rivals.” We have enemies or annoying neighbors, or the occasional personal vendetta against the coffee vendor who charged three dollars for my coffee and then another ten for a tip.
Still disputing that charge.
Wilder doesn’t respond to my gratitude. I consider turning back to him as we walk to his car, then remember my tendency to run into him.
When I’m a safe distance away from possible impact, I turn. “Is it OK if I stop by to check on him tomorrow?”
“House calls are a thing of the past, Doc.” He meets my eyes and there’s a question in his that makes me shift uncomfortably.
He takes a few steps until his intimidating frame towers over me, the intensity in his eyes making me feel both trapped and electrified at once.
“I don’t think so,” he replies gruffly. “You’re going to beverybusy tomorrow. Andverytired.”
A shiver runs through my veins. And my heart flutters. Why does my heart flutter? Whatever he’s implyingcan’tbe good for me.
I roll my lips, having no response to his unspoken threat. Despite the tension, there’s something magnetic about him—an edge that hints at control just barely restrained. He’s angry, yes, but it’s not hasty. It’s measured, careful, and damn near intoxicating.
His eyes drop to the scrape on my shoulder. It nearly knocksme off my feet when he brushes his fingers lightly over the wound. I suck in a sharp breath, and he draws his hand back.
“I don’t suppose this would be a good time to tell you the bush got it worse?” I smirk with a hint of laughter.
“Come on,” he tears his eyes off me, “it’s been a long night.”
But I’m not ready. I’m picking up on something and .?.?. in Wilder’s words from the other day, I’m going to need some confirmation.
“Will you just tell me what’s got you so angry? If Dallas is going to be fine, then what is it? I snuck out with stolen property, big deal. When the shit hit the fan, I called, didn’t I?”
He snaps his head back. “I don’t know if Dallas is going to be fine. I didn’t know ifyouwere fine.” He huffs out a laugh like I have no clue. “Do you know what it’s like to have your staff call you in a damn panic because they thought someone broke in?”
My eyes widen, lips parting as the weight of my actions tonight starts to settle in.
“Found the path you managed to push through. We thought we were dealing with rustlers. I had my men combing the grounds, armed, on edge. All soyoucould take a little joyride through town.” His voice is gravelly, cutting through the air like a whip.
His eyes are dark as he scans me again, the way he did earlier, as if checking for more scrapes and bruises. “And then you called for help,” he exhales, finally pulling his gaze off me.
I suck in a breath, ready to unleash, about to make it painfully clear to this man thatIwasn’t the one who needed saving, it was for Dallas.
But my breath catches in my throat.
He’s so rugged and feral right now, in a dangerous, intoxicating kind of way. In a way that makes me feel hot .?.?. and safe.
Because there’s somethingelselaced in his words, his eyes,that’s unmistakable. His whole body trembled with it when he carried me out of that bar.
Fear.
Lifting my eyes, I watch him struggle with himself.
Then, I give my most heartfelt apology of the evening.
“I’m sorry I scared you.”
8
Wilder
The organ in my chest constricts.
She thinks she scared me? “I’m a whole lot of things right now, Rose. Furious, disappointed, frustrated as fuck, but I don’t scare easily.” I keep my voice even, my glare powerful as I take a step closer.
