Page 38 of From the Ashes
I clamp my mouth shut not wanting to explain the mild panic attack I had over Walker’s age the night we hooked up…or that we hooked up at all.
Knox and I watch as Walker slowly turns in our direction, hitching his duffel higher on his shoulder. Before he reaches us, Knox throws his hammer in the open toolbox at our feet and pats me on the back. “You’ve got demons. Stop running from them and start talking to them, or they’ll end up as the only company you keep.”
This time,myeyes narrow. “Nine times out of ten, I really appreciate your life wisdom, but fuck if that tenth time doesn’t make me want to punch you in the goddamn mouth.”
“Yeah, well, get in line,” Knox grumbles cryptically.
“You know, one of these days, you’re going to have to share a little about your own demons, Knoxy.”
He sighs. “All you need to know is that my demons run fromme, Phoe. Not the other way around. They won’t give me a chance to talk to them.” With that, he walks toward his truck and climbs inside just as Walker comes through the other door to the barn.
One look at his face and I almost drop to my knees.
He hasn’t showered yet and is still in his rodeo button down, but in place of his white show hat, he’s wearing a worn, black cowboy hat with a thin leather braided rope around the brim. My stomach lodges itself in my throat. I once flicked that hat off his head so I could drive my fingers into the hair beneath it.
A pregnant silence fills the air around us and I’m the first one to break it. I wish I had a great line or something really profound to say, but I open my mouth and a terrible, humorless joke falls out. The only reason I can think for it is the look of utter despair on his face.
“You know, the first time we met, you were walking away from me then too. You’d think I’d take a fucking hint.”
Walker closes his eyes like I’m bleeding him dry of the last of his emotions. “I really can’t do this with you right now.” He sounds so defeated.
When he offers nothing else, I point to his duffle bag. “Is that about your ride? Because we all have?—”
“It’s not about the ride.” He cuts me off and shifts his weight. His eyes won’t meet mine, confirming there’s more to this story, but still, he doesn’t elaborate. It reminds me of theway he emotionally held me at arm’s length even though he couldn’t get his body close enough to mine the night we were together.
I’m positive that getting involved is a bad idea, but whatever drew me to him eight years ago, won’t allow me to turn my back on him now.
“Look,” I start. I’d taken my cowboy hat off and replaced it with a ball cap right before Knox got here. Just to give my hands something to do, I pull the hat off, wipe my forehead, and put it on backwards so I can see Walker better. “I know I don’t have any right to be in your business, but I’ve been where you are.” Now isn’t the time to mention that my injury ended my career whereas his won’t, so I leave that part out. “If you have questions about what happens next, you know…I can try to help.”
A slow, deliciously sexy smile tilts one corner of his mouth as he cuts his eyes to me. “I really appreciate that, Phoenix, but uh, I’ve been riding broncs since I was twelve. This isn’t my first injury.”
Right.
“So, what’s got you all torn up then?”
“Well, for starters, my coach just informed me that since my season’s done, he’s going to join Jackson’s team.”
“Jackson White?” I ask incredulously.
“One and the same.”
Hoping he’ll stay, and tell me more, I reach forward for the strap of his bag. “Christ, that guy’s an asshole. Here, set this down for a minute.” He lets me take it from him and I feel his eyes trail up my body. I’m so fucking hot under his gaze I’m concerned about the possibility of a heat stroke. Feeling like this interaction is heading somewhere it ought not to go, I avert my gaze from his beautiful face and steer us back on track—wherever that may be anymore.
Chapter 19
Walker
“What’s your plan?” Phoenix asks.
My plan?
“I don’t really have one,” I answer, because no way in hell am I going to tell him I just found out I have a son, and that myactualplan was to get a little drunk and call my son’s mom back before gettingblackoutdrunk and jerking off to the memory of last night’s kiss with Phoenix, himself.Fuck, was that just last night?
“So, you just threw your shit in a bag and were going to hitchhike back to Texas? Seems dangerous, even for a bronc rider,” Phoenix says, pulling my attention back to his beautiful face.
“Just knew I couldn’t stay in that damn camper one more fucking day.” The honesty and vehemence in my words shocks me as much as him.
“And your backstabbing dickhole of a coach gets to roll out of here with your truck and your camper to go on the road with your rival? That seems more than a little fucked up.”
