Page 99 of Cowboy Seeks Husband
Roan woke upwith a start and the horrible feeling he was late for the funeral, then he remembered it’d already happened.
“Jesus.” He sank back in his bed, waiting for his heart to calm down and the sick dread in his stomach to ease. He hated waking up halfway through an anxiety attack.
When he settled down a little, he frowned, wondering why he was in bed with his shirt and pants still on.
Walker.
Swinging his legs out of bed soundlessly, Roan held his breath as he listened but heard nothing. He closed his eyes and swallowed down the disappointment. Roan hadn’t tried to reach out to Walker at all the last few weeks; he couldn’t expect Walker to stick around now. With a sigh, he levered himself out of bed, considered changing his clothes, then remembered most of his stuff was piled up in the downstairs laundry room.
As he stepped out into the hallway, he automatically strained to listen for any sounds from his mom’s bedroom, but of course there were none. He shivered, thinking he should probably turn on the heat, but he should first find himself a new job before he began to spend more money. The funeral alone would cost enough, and while Andy had paid him against all expectations and contract requirements, it wouldn’t last long after the cost of the funeral and other final expenses.
The house felt strange, the small, old-fashioned living room all wrong with his mom’s blankets neatly folded on her chair. He averted his gaze and stepped into the kitchen as he unbuttoned his shirt, ready to rummage through the laundry in search of a warm sweater.
“Oh, hey, you’re awake.”
Roan froze in the doorway, shirt half-unbuttoned, and stared at Walker sitting on a rickety kitchen chair. A mug of coffee curled with steam in front of him, and he put his phone down as he rose to his feet.
“I thought you were gone.” Roan’s voice sounded rusty.
Walker frowned a little. He’d taken off his suit jacket and tugged the tie loose so it hung over his shoulders. The top two buttons of his white shirt were undone, and his hair was a mess of ridges drawn by repeatedly shoving his fingers through it.
“You asked me to stay,” Walker said carefully. “When I brought you home after the funeral… But I can go if you want.”
“No! I—” Roan watched him warily. “I forgot. I’m not thinking right. I’m confused.” He suddenly felt self-conscious about their small, old house in the rough part of town where all the yards were tiny, divided by peeling fences. Somewhere in the distance a dog bark incessantly. Compared to Walker’s farm, this place was a shit hole.
“You want some coffee?” Walker asked. “I hope you don’t mind I made some.”
“No, of course not. Um, if you’re hungry, there are a lot of casseroles and lasagnas in the fridge and freezer.”
Walker gave him a small, careful smile. He was watching Roan intently, as if trying to figure him out. “I wanted to wait and eat with you.”
“Oh. Thanks. Um, I’m just going to change out of my suit.” He looked at Walker. “I’d offer you something more comfortable but I don’t think my skinny jeans will fit you.”
Walker laughed softly. “It’s okay. I have a suitcase in my rental car out front. I just didn’t want to assume…” He looked uncomfortable for a second.
“How long are you staying?” Roan asked.
“I have an open ticket. I can be gone tomorrow, or next week. Whatever you want.”
Roan blinked at him. “Whatever I want?”
Walker nodded solemnly, and Roan cracked his first smile in what felt like forever.
“I want you to go get your suitcase, cowboy.”
By the time Walker came back, Roan had changed into a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. He kind of felt like he should’ve dressed up since Walker had never seen him like this, but he was too drained and too vulnerable. He wanted to wrap himself in layers upon layers, comfortable like a hug. He was pulling on a pair of thick, woolen socks, when Walker reappeared.
“I wouldn’t mind a pair of those,” Walker said. “I didn’t realize it was already going to be so cold here.”
“Really? Because I have some.”
Walker smiled. It wasn’t his usual grin, like he didn’t know if he was allowed to smile his full smile while Roan was hurting. “Sure, why not.”
Roan grabbed another pair of the thick socks. “I should turn on the heat,” he said, feeling his face flush. “It’s just that I have to be careful right now.”
“Careful how?” Walker pulled off a thin sock. His toes wiggled, and Roan’s eyes were drawn to his long, slender feet. He had high arches and surprisingly beautiful toes for a man who worked in boots all the time.
Roan’s gaze snapped up. “I need to find a new job,” he said. “And I have to be careful with the money Andy sent me. It will definitely help for a while, but until I have some prospects…” Roan trailed off and shrugged, uncomfortable discussing his financial situation.
