Page 21 of Slow Hands Cowboy

At least it hadn’t changed anything or dredged up any feelings he didn’t know were there.

There was something almost comforting about that. About it being him.

Because as much as she hated the idea of people taking a little bit of secret satisfaction in her pain, she hated the idea of pity almost as much.

Walker wouldn’t pity her.

The trail wound through the trees, and into a clearing, where suddenly she saw a beautiful home. Mid-century style with asymmetrical angles and large windows.

She knew, without having to ask, that this was Walker’s house.

It was western, but it was also sleek and modern, and that seemed to be Walker all over, even though she couldn’t say that she knew him, it felt like something she understood.

It was weird that she was contemplating this while barefoot, on the back of a horse, having just experienced the most humiliating moment of her life, but then, what else was there to ponder, really?

Walker got off the horse, and then swept her down into his arms. Her heart was pounding so hard she could barely breathe.

He was so strong, he carried her like she weighed nothing, even in this great, voluminous dress.

She looked down, eyes focused on the hollow of his throat, on the way that he was breathing.

She didn’t dare look up. She didn’t dare look up into his eyes.

She didn’t hold onto him, not anywhere, she had her hands pressed against her chest, like she was a corpse in a coffin, and allowed him to carry her into the house, the cool air pressing over her, chilly on her damp skin.

She was sweating.

It was hot outside, but also, probably the adrenaline rush had flooded her body and made her even warmer.

Sure. It was adrenaline.

Nothing to do with Walker.

He set her down, barefoot, right there in the entryway.

Only then did she look up at him.

“I’m going to go take care of some things. You… You just chill out here. There’s nothing for you to worry about.”

“I don’t have my phone,” she said.

“I’ll bring you your phone. And… something to change into.”

“All right. Well… thanks.” She looked down and wiggled her toes, which were covered by her ball gown. “I need shoes.”

“Yeah. You just… You just chill. Okay?”

“Yeah.” She looked around, suddenly feeling desolate. “I shouldn’t be here. I should go back and handle all the guests.”

“Nope. I’ve got it. If anybody has any explaining to do, it’s the groom. But otherwise, I’ll take care of everything. You just stay here.”

And then Walker turned around, and closed the door behind him, leaving her alone in his house.

Then Addison’s knees gave out, and she sank to the floor, that beautiful wedding dress billowed out all around her, and she began to weep.

Chapter Five

That fucking fuck. Walker was absolutely going to kill him. By the time he rode his horse back to the scene of the crime, the groom had been freed from the rope, and he was gone. There were still guests milling around, and the bridesmaids, groomsmen, and of course, Addison’s dad, and a woman he assumed was her mother, though he had never met her.