Page 90 of Cowboy Seeks Husband
“Nothing,” Roan mumbled and made his way out of the room so he didn’t have to see Mike’s perfect arms, and his perfect face and abs, or the pert ass he kept showing off. Dammit. Why was he jealous? One more week and he’d be gone. Probably.
“Word is you and Walker kissed. Like,reallykissed.” Chad followed Roan downstairs. When he was met with nothing but silence, he gave Roan’s arm a soft squeeze. “It’s not all fake, you know.”
Roan nodded but couldn’t get any words out. Automatically he scanned the room, and at the exact moment Roan spotted him, Walker looked up. Damn, Walker looked hot. He wore a pinstripe suit that accentuated his muscled chest and clung to his thick thighs. It made Roan want to strip the whole thing off his body—hang it up neatly—then have his wicked way with that cowboy.
On his terms this time.
Their eyes met across the expanse, and Roan felt the jolt of whatever it was that coiled tight between them. It grabbed him and tugged at his guts. Walker made a small move, like he was going to come over, but Roan averted his gaze.
Everyone milled around for a while, trying to make polite small talk, but the room thrummed with anticipation. Roan figured the vibe would only get worse as the night continued. Eventually he couldn’t keep up his pretense of not wanting to look at Walker, and his eyes strayed in his direction. Now Mike was standing right beside him.
In a fucking matching suit. They looked like two grooms ready for their wedding.
“Dick move, huh?”
“What?” Roan turned to Victor.
He nodded at Walker and Mike. “Having the ex turn up? Assholes. And then they put him in the same suit.”
Roan’s gut churned.
Victor went on, “You’re not buying that, are you? They want some good footage of you green with jealousy so they can make everything seem more dramatic than it actually is.” Victor squeezed Roan’s arm. “But trust me, those two aren’t getting back together.”
Roan looked back over at the two of them. Mike plucked something off Walker’s tie, and it was clear they were easy with each other. Familiar.
“I don’t know,” he said dubiously. Not that it mattered to him. Not at all.One more week. Then he’d be home with his mom, where he belonged.
Victor shrugged a strong shoulder. “I’m wasting my time here anyway.”
“What do you mean?”
Victor turned to him and gave him a disbelieving look. He looked gorgeous in an emerald shirt that clung to his tanned skin and shoes that made him even taller than he already was. “I didn’t expect to feel anything for the guy, and I don’t. Not really. But he’s a good person, and he deserves a good man. That’s not me.”
“It’s not?”
Victor laughed. “No. For me, it’s all about the money.”
“But it’s all about the money for me, too,” Roan confessed. “So I’m no better than you are.”
“Maybe it started that way for you, but…” Victor looked toward Walker pointedly. “You’re fooling yourself, kid, if you think everyone here hasn’t seen how into each other you guys are.”
Roan swallowed hard and rubbed at his arms. Victor wandered away, leaving him to his thoughts. Did he dare to hope? Was it ridiculous to think that anything real could come out of something as fake as this show? His heart beat quickly, his pulse thrumming with restrained excitement. His eyes swung back to Walker, who was looking at him, too. He lifted his hand to wave, and Walker’s lips tweaked up at the edges, a small smile.
Roan’s heart soared. Okay, yes, maybe he didn’t need to go home right away. Maybe he would stay around for the full six weeks if possible, and not for the prize money. But for the way his stomach flipped, and his blood pounded, and his soul felt like it was taking to the sky just from that small, sweet smile Walker had sent his way.
A heavy hand gripped his right biceps and pulled him into the less crowded kitchen. “Hey, what…?” Roan bit back the rest of his question when he got a good look at who had hold of him.
John’s expression was grim, but his voice was steady when he said, “Roan, it’s your mom.”
His stomach flipped again, but not like it had when Walker had smiled at him. No, now it flipped with a cold, sick terror. “What’s going on?”
“Don’t panic, but we got a call—”
Roan’s pulse pounded, and he couldn’t make out the rest of John’s words. They sounded like they were coming from far away, in slow motion, under water, and not in English. He blinked rapidly, acid lurching into his throat.
They got a call.
They got a call.
