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as you thought.”

“Tasha knows nothing of my business.”

“Keep telling yourself that. I rejected the woman publically, and she didn’t take it well. She marked you, probably fed you lies, too. Does she know you’re meeting with me today and the reason?”

The color drains from his face as understanding dawns. “That bitch was in my house. She must have gone through my things.”

“Don’t worry, I bet she’ll be vapor when you get home.”

I stand, going toward the door.

“I don’t know what the hell is happening, but we need to talk about this.”

“The time to talk was when you called me Saturday. Even this morning could have worked, but you came in here swinging your dick and your money around like you had the upper hand.”

“We have too much history to let this ruin our relationship. I fucked up.” He comes to me, offering his hand.

The bastard has the same condescending tone as a few minutes ago, triggering the fury inside. Before I can stop myself, my fist is connecting with his jaw and he’s stumbling into the wall. Frames crash around him loudly.

“That’s for insulting my wife, you fucking son of a bitch.”

The door flies open, and Pierce stands poised for anything. Poppy shuffles in with wide eyes. She takes one look at me, drops the crutches, and launches herself the four feet across the space. I catch her, hauling her close. She grips the back of my neck, scans over my face, and immediately the fury softens. The smell of her perfume and the fresh flowers in her hair settle the simmer inside.

“Jesus, man. I’m sorry.” Tony’s tone is full of regret.

“Get out of my office,” I grind out, not glancing his way.

Poppy swings her head to him, clutching tighter. “I don’t know you, but you better leave.”

“I’ll escort him out of the building,” Pierce speaks up, not masking his disgust.

“Tessa, Anthony Sanchez’s email may have been compromised. Hand him the transfer paperwork and make sure he’s removed from our client portal immediately. Customer service can handle him.”

“Yes, sir,” she trills, shutting the door when he’s through it.

“I’m sorry you witnessed that.”

“I asked Pierce to bring me early to surprise you. He insulted me?”

She heard my outrage. “He’s an ass that was misinformed.”

Poppy says nothing for a full minute, then her mouth splits into a breathtaking smile.

“Shit.” I lay my forehead to hers. “That smile just erased the hellacious last few hours.”

“Wait ‘til later when we get home from rehab and I show you how hot that was.”

That’s all it takes for my dick to turn to steel.

Chapter 32

Poppy

“You really are a hotshot, aren’t you?” Jesse makes notes on her tablet.

“Nope, I’m an overachiever. There’s a difference.”

“You’re becoming as big a pain in my ass as Annie.”

“I take that as a compliment.”

She goes to the far side of the room, aiming the tablet at me. “Alright, dancing queen, show us you can do this.”

“Gladly.” I make a point to do a toe, ball, heel across the room, leaning on one crutch on my left side.

“Stop, reverse, go with the heel first,” she instructs.

My heel barely protests as I make my way to Jesse, spin, and go back to my original spot. “Voila!”

“So damn cocky.” She clicks off the video. “You never wore a cast?”

“Not a hard cast; Rexwell is more progressive.”

“That’s been obvious from the beginning. I’ll recommend an adjustment on your knee.”

“Let’s move to water therapy next week,” I suggest confidently.

“Nope, you’re not there. We haven’t even worked on your motion yet.”

“Water is the best way to start.”

I’m ready to tell her about my research, but her stern glare stops me. After weeks of working together and reading her moods, it’s easy to tell she won’t reconsider.

Our first appointment with Dr. Lyons was nerve-wracking. He was apprehensive about Rexwell’s recommended therapy. It was up to me to prove myself. Dr. Lyons may have been the vocal resistance, but I knew it was Jesse that had to be convinced. In most cases, it’s the therapist that decides the course of therapy, but since my case is complicated, everyone is involved. She was tough but agreed to follow Rexwell’s recommendations. Usually, she listens to my suggestions, even if humoring me. But today she’s shut me down.

“Listen, Poppy, I know you’re a pro in muscle manipulation. Your eagerness to test theories to speed up your progress is commendable. But this is serious stuff. Individually, these injuries take time to heal. Your knee has to ease into it. The tendon snapped.”

I deflate at the reminder. “Yeah, okay.”

She lifts my chin, giving me an encouraging grin. “We’ll get there. Keep doing your thing.”

“Yeah,” I repeat, turning to reach for the second crutch.

“You’re comfortable in your home?”

“Absolutely.” I swing over to my things on a chair, looking at the text on my phone from Darby.

“Then let’s do one-crutch walking a few hours a day. That will give the knee at least a little weight.”

My spirits lift. “Sounds good. Any chance I can sneak in a workout in the gym? Darby is my ride and she’s running late.”

“I’m not sure your overprotective husband would like it.”

“He’s not here and I’m working on loosening him up.”

“Shit, you wear me out. You know what’s approved. I may join you once I get all these notes to your doctors.”

“Dr. Rexwell is at lunch with the time difference.”

“Rexwell is waiting. You’re his prize patient. Do you need help to the gym floor?”

“Got this.”

“Of course you do,” she mutters.

I make my way out of the rehab area, loving the fact that the rehabilitation center is attached to a gym.

It’s not fully recreational, but more specialized with the gym environment geared toward strength building. It reminds me of my training gym with Cirque.

I drop my things on a bench, remove my shirt, pop in my earbuds, and start my rotations.

My mind thinks over the last few weeks and how easily I slid into life in Charleston. Evin didn’t get to take the time off he planned. The scene in his office

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