Page 61 of Cowboy Seeks Husband
“We’re screwed,” Roan sighed, bored out of his mind and tired of all the loops of second guessing in his head. It was raining like the apocalypse and he petulantly hoped they were all stuck out in a field somewhere. But he also worried about the rain, too, because Walker had said something about too much rain making problems on the ranch. Roan didn’t want Walker trying to deal with troubles during the chaos of shooting.
“We’re not screwed,” Chad said, lounging around with feet propped up on the coffee table like the incredible boredom didn’t faze him at all. Ben was doodling on a notepad. The pen looked ridiculously dainty in his large paw. “Especially you guys. You’re definitely not screwed.”
“What?” Roan sat up a little straighter, and while Ben didn’t move, Roan noticed his pen wasn’t dancing across the paper anymore. “Why do you say that?”
“This whole thing today is a pity date. It’s pretty clear he’s most into the two of you.”
Ben finally lifted his head. “Pretty clear how?”
Roan gazed at Ben speculatively. Of course Walker would be into that. Who wouldn’t be? And Ben was a great guy, so it’d be good to have him around for another week, but… Roan swallowed down the weird lurch of jealousy at the idea that Walker might be more interested in Ben than in him.
“Well, let’s see.” Chad held up a manicured finger. “Out of everyone, you two are the only ones he’s ever sought out on his own.” He held up a second finger. “He stares at the two of you constantly, and—” he held out a third finger “—the producers are always warning him away from you both so his preference doesn’t become obvious too fast.” He grinned, and Roan shifted a little uncomfortably in his seat. Ben, on the other hand, looked downright mortified.
“I think it’s wrong,” Ben mumbled. “Love isn’t a competition.”
“No, it’s not,” Roan said. But they’d all come on this show voluntarily, so they had no room to protest.
“No? You don’t date people, weed out the ones you don’t like, stick around with the ones you do, and see how it goes?”
Roan sat up straighter, elbows on his knees. “Yeah, but that happens over time, not in the span of six weeks This whole situation is artificial and unnatural.”
“Well, you knew that going in. And in this case, trust me. You two are the only ones actually in the running.”
“You seem okay with that,” Ben said, dropping his gaze back to his notepad.
“Yeah, well.” Chad hooked his arms behind his head. “We all have our reasons for being here.”
Roan mulled that over while he went into the kitchen to grab some dinner. They’d made huge lasagnas the night before and he plated some leftovers, shouting toward the living room, “You guys want some?”
“No, thanks,” Ben called back, as Chad yelled, “Maybe later.”
While the microwave did its magic, Roan stepped out onto the covered, screened porch and stared at the pouring rain.
“You’d love the sound of that, Mom,” he murmured. “Louisiana rain on a tin roof.”
She adored thunderstorms, and he wondered if this was where she’d learned to love them, back when she’d visited here as a young woman. Was she okay? He wanted to hear her voice so badly it hurt. She’d probably be cozied up in front of the TV right now with her favorite blankets. Maybe with a cup of tea. He couldn’t remember the last time she didn’t have rings under her eyes, her skin sagging and sallow.
God, what was he even doing here? His chest ached. He stumbled forward, catching himself on the screen. “Mom,” he croaked. The rain splashed against the screen, getting him wet, but he didn’t care. “I should go home.” He said it to no one, forgetting the mounted cameras and the wired mic on his body.
He buried his face in his hands. He didn’t allow himself to cry very often. They’d both shed oceans of tears when she’d first been diagnosed, but recently he felt like giving in to the pain was like giving up. If he allowed himself to think the worst or be anything but optimistic about her chances, he smudged her fate. He didn’t dare to give in to the hopelessness, because without hope he had nothing. It’d been him and his mom for as long as he could remember, and if the drug trial didn’t take her on, or they didn’t get the money to enter it, he didn’t know what he’d do. Without her the world was a dark place, and the future a predator waiting to devour him whole. He had no one else, and the idea of being completely alone made his blood go cold.
Roan straightened his back and sniffed, wiping his nose on the back of his hand. He couldn’t think like this. He had to stay strong enough for both of them. He pushed against the kitchen door, startling when he found Ben at the counter in there.
“Hey, I wondered where you’d gone. You left your lasagna in the…are you okay?”
“Yeah I’m fine. I’m—” Roan winced as the pain in his chest hit him again. He pressed the heels of his hands in his eyes until colors danced behind his lids, hoping to hold back the tears.
“Roan? What’s wrong? It’s okay, c’mere.” Ben tugged at him until he sat down on one of the barstools. Behind him, the living room was ablaze with noise. Shit, everyone was back from the date.
“I need to get upstairs,” he croaked.
“Yeah, okay. You sure you’re all right, though?”
“I’m fine.”
Ben hesitated for a second, then leaned closer and put his arm over Roan’s shoulders. “They’re all too distracted to notice if you slip upstairs now, but listen. If you want to talk, I’m here okay? Aside from all this bullshit, I care about you.”
“Okay,” Roan whispered. Ben pulled him a little closer, and Roan went with it, finding comfort against a strong body in a pair of arms willing to hold him up, even if it was only for a second.
