Page 97 of Cowboy Seeks Husband
Walker rolled his shoulders. “Let’s get this over with.”
Mike looked good. His hair had been swept back from his handsome face, the corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled, deep dimples inviting kisses. He wore a suit that looked made for him—and maybe it was—but not even the most stylish clothes could take the cowboy out of him. Just like Walker, he’d been born and raised to farm life, but his older brother had taken over the farm, so he’d gone on to study veterinary medicine. It hadn’t taken the swagger out of his step, and when he climbed the little stage, Walker felt a rush of affection for his ex.
They’d been good together while it lasted. He was familiar and kind and a good man. Once upon a time, Walker had thought Mike could make him happy.
But now Mike had nothing that he wanted.
“Hey.” Mike grinned at him, then swooped in for a quick, dry kiss. Then he looked Walker up and down and whistled between his teeth. “You’re something else,” he whispered. There was a slightly feverish light in his eyes, and Walker could see his pulse jump in his throat.
“Walker,” Mike began, reaching out and taking hold of his hand. His fingers and palms were just as calloused as Walker’s and in a flash of sense memory he could almost feel them on his skin. “I know you said we missed our chance. But I can’t stop thinking about you. Even over the years, I’ve always thought I made a mistake. Being here with you, it’s…” He laughed softly, a little disbelievingly. “It’s been wild.”
He sank to one knee, and Walker’s heart skipped a beat.
“No,” he whispered. “Mike, please don’t do this.”
Mike’s smile faded a little. “Won’t you hear me out?”
“You’re on one knee. I think I know what you’re about to do, and it’s crazy, Mike. I can’t. I’m sorry.”
Mike didn’t let go of Walker’s hand, but he ducked his head and stayed where he was. Walker squeezed his eyes closed and tipped his head back to the sky as his insides contracted in agony. There was only one man he’d consider such an impulsive proposal from, and he was in Ohio. Walker fell to his knees and hugged Mike tight.
“I’m really sorry,” he whispered. “But it would be a mistake.”
“You’re probably right,” Mike said, sounding choked up. He clung to Walker, hard, his breath wet against Walker’s throat. “I’ve just been so damn lonely.”
Walker swallowed and hugged him closer. “I know.”
“And cut,” Andy called. Even his voice sounded subdued. “Beautiful.”
Walker pulled back and looked at Mike, assessing for a moment to see if it had all been an act. But no. Mike’s eyes were red. He wiped the back of his hand across his nose and wouldn’t look at Walker as he clambered to his feet. Walker was about to say something when he saw someone run up to Andy, whisper something, and Andy covered his face.
“Oh, dear Lord, that’s horrible,” he murmured, then lifted his gaze and looked at Walker.
“What is it?” Walker asked.
Andy climbed the stage and reached up to put a hand on Walker’s shoulder. “It’s Roan. I had Molly call to check up on him so we could arrange a follow-up bit for the show.” He squeezed Walker’s shoulder gently. “His mom died.”
Walker jerked away from Andy. “When?”
“A few days ago. The funeral is tomorrow.”
Walker swallowed hard, glanced around in a daze, and then jogged off the stage. He didn’t call out, he didn’t explain. He didn’t even care if filming was done. He just knew one thing. He had to go.
Roan needed him.
