Page 45 of Cowboy Seeks Husband
“Perfect. Go on, Walker,” Molly ordered.
Walker looked terribly uncomfortable as he drew out the required ten seconds before lifting up the final horseshoe. It was adorned with a red rose and a bow.
Roan wondered if everyone could hear his whooshing blood and his ragged breathing. He could barely hear anything else.
I don’t want to go home tonight, he thought. Walker’s eyes hung on his, and Roan felt faint.And not just for the money.
He knew that had to be the show talking. Being here in this house with all these people vying for the same man’s attentions was a mindfuck making him feel things that weren’t real. But dammit, standing there sweating under the lights, it was hard to remember that. He didn’t want to go home yet.
Walker walked straight for Roan, his expression all solemn apology.
“Hey, little lion. Will you stick around for another round of noodling?” he asked, and a burst of giddy laughter left Roan’s mouth before he could stop himself and try to play it cool.
Beside him Antoine cried, “What the fuck? That’s not fair! I never got my chance!”
Walker didn’t even look at him. He leaned a little closer to Roan and murmured, “They made me keep you for last for the tension on the show. I’m sorry.”
“Okay, you can’t say that,” Molly cut in. She put her hand to her earpiece and listened to whatever Andy was saying from the “control room” set up in a van outside. “Andy likes the little lion bit, so you can say that again. Also, Antoine, while we’re loving the pissy look on your face, please keep the swearing to a minimum. Let’s go again.”
Roan felt a lot more cheerful this time around.
“I’d love to stay,” he said when Walker asked him a second time. “But I’m not so sure about the noodling.”
“That’s fine with me.” Walker grinned the lopsided smile that was beginning to look awfully familiar and dear. “I’ve got plenty of ideas for exciting dates.”
“Oh yeah? Why am I scared?” Roan asked, and they both laughed.
Beside them, Antoine seethed. Roan went to join the others while Walker tried to exchange some polite words with Antoine. But the dude obviously wasn’t having it. Walker turned to the other eliminated contestant, Bellamy, instead, who’d taken it a lot better.
“Hey, man.”
Roan tore his eyes away from Walker to see Ben standing beside him. “Oh, hey.”
“Glad it’s them going home and not you.”
Roan smiled up at him. “Thanks. Me too.”
Ben slung his arm around Roan’s shoulder and shook him a little. “You’re the only one here who doesn’t make me want to punch their face in.”
Roan chuckled, and a guy with a camera on his shoulder was there getting everything. “Chad’s okay.”
“Chad would throw you under the bus in a heartbeat.”
Roan shrugged Ben’s arm away and said, “I’m going to grab a drink.”
Almost everyone got pretty drunk that night, including Walker when he decided to show off his cocktail-making skills. It was pretty funny to watch, especially since Walker’s grin grew dopier with every glass he drank. After a while people seemed to forget why they were there, and it turned into a really fun evening. Roan held off from drinking too much because he didn’t like that feeling of losing control, but it was great to watch everyone else throw caution to the wind and have a good time. Everyone but Ben, it seemed.
Walker was required to have a little staged chat “in private” with each of the people still standing. Antoine had packed his bags with ill grace and was being driven to a local hotel. When Walker wandered off toward the back porch with Ben, Chad pulled Roan outside and plonked them both down in the rocking chairs out front.
“So come on man, spill the beans. What really happened when you guys went ‘noodling,’ or should I saycanoodling.” Chad cracked up like he’d told the funniest joke ever. Roan just stared at him until he calmed down. “No seriously, what happened? Walker can’t keep his eyes off you.”
“Antoine would say he’s probably afraid I’m going to pass out or throw up or something.”
“Dude, come on.” He put his arm around Roan’s shoulder. “Tell Uncle Chad.”
Roan sniggered and shrugged him off. Fine, Chad probably wouldn’t remember tomorrow anyway. Though the cameras would. “Okay well, everything I told you happened. We really did catch catfish with our bare hands.” He wiggled his fingers to show the abrasions he’d earned even through the gloves. “But after that, well. He kissed me on the cheek.”
“Ohhhh,” Chad mocked, but it was friendly enough. “On thecheek.”
