Page 81 of Cash

Would he climb in with me if I asked him?

I clear my throat. “So the supplies you were talking about?—”

“The salt. And the privacy. Wasn’t sure if you had them at the New House.”

“I don’t think I do.”

After pouring several cups of salt into the water, he straightens, drawing to his full height. The cabin has low ceilings, and Cash lookshugein here. And broad. And sweaty.

“Soak for at least twenty minutes.” He points at the water. “An hour is better, though, so take your time.” He turns, opening a cabinet beside the shower to grab a pair of towels. “I’ll set these on the counter here. Anything else you need?”

I blink, speechless. The herbal, almost-minty scent of eucalyptus blooms inside the room, making my heart skip a beat.

That’s what I’m always smelling on Cash’s skin. He must bathe often in this stuff.

Taking his hat off his head, he spears a hand through his hair. “What?”

“Who the fuck are you?”

His lips twitch. “Your foreman. Now get in the tub.”

Then he walks past me and closes the door.

CHAPTER 18

Cash

STUCK

What’sthat thing British people say? Keep calm and carry on?

I try my best to do exactly that as I head for the kitchen. Steady, even steps.

Steady, even heartbeat.

Only it’s not steady. It sure as hell ain’t even. My pulse pounds through my body like a shock wave, every beat a reminder that Mollie Luck is getting naked in my bathroom right now.

I pour myself a glass of water and down it. Sweat rolls down my neck and back. I startle when I hear athump.

“Sorry!” Mollie calls. “Just my boots.”

Glancing at the bottle of añejo tequila beside the fridge, I wonder if I should take a shot. Or three. It’s almost four o’clock. Close enough to five, right?

It’s wrong to think about what Mollie looks like, taking off her clothes. Totally wrong to imagine her shimmying out of her jeans, the denim falling to the floor along with her panties.

She was just crying in the barn, for fuck’s sake. Poor thing is a mess. I need to make sure she’s okay.

I don’t need to fantasize about grabbing that tequila and opening the bathroom door and?—

No. Nope. Can’t—won’t—go there.

So I chug my water, and I wait for the tight feeling in my skin to dissipate.

Mollie worked hard today. Too hard. I shouldn’t have let her come out to the barn after lunch. But I did, and I feel terrible about not noticing sooner how much she was hurting.

It’s why I brought her here. Sure, I could’ve dropped her off at the New House. Mollie’s a grown woman. She can take care of herself.

What if I want to take care of her, though?