Page 32 of Slow Hands Cowboy

In fact, it was the most important thing that she could think of.

About three days after the jilting, it was like she turned a corner, and began strategizing.

She read so many comments. Thousands of comments.

There was no end to the number of comments that she read, and she began to see a theme.

Began to realize exactly what needed to be done.

Because in the middle of all of the old footage from the wedding, there were some new things too. Interviews with Walker. And in all of the comment sections, women were swooning. Talking about how the way that he had picked her up in the aisle was the most romantic thing they had ever seen. The way that he had defended her honor was the most beautiful gesture they had ever witnessed, and there were memes.

In a world of that guy, be this guy.

Don’t be the man who runs, be the one who chases the man down, and then rescues the woman he left behind.

Oh yes, it was becoming more and more clear the longer that she looked at all of this. Maybe she was insane. Maybe the week of isolation had actually damaged her brain, but she didn’t think so.

No.

She was pretty sure that her plan was actually genius.

She texted Anna and confirmed that it was, in fact, brilliant.

Anna agreed, even if she thought it was a little bit risky, but Addison felt like risky was about the only option they had.

Anna felt like risky was something that could work in their favor.

On the last morning, when Walker’s truck pulled up to the front of the cabin to whisk her back to her car, back to reality, she had her entire speech rehearsed.

“Walker, I’ve been thinking about it, and I really don’t see another option,” she said, standing in the doorway of the cabin, arms folded, gaze intent on his.

“Another option to what?”

“To this. This whole situation. My situation. Our situation.”

“And what is that?”

“Walker Grayson, you need to fake date me.”

Chapter Seven

“Is this like the time you asked me to prom?” he asked, wishing that he hadn’t, because there really was no reason in all the world that he should be throwing that out there in a moment like this. Hell no. What he should be doing was playing it cool, not bringing any of the past up, and he definitely shouldn’t be standing there, gut churning, blood flowing like lava through his veins.

“Um… No,” she said, pausing and looking away for a moment. “I’m kind of topped out on humiliation, but I can definitely apologize for that. I was a bitch.”

“Your words,” he said.

“I was also seventeen, so…”

“So was I.”

She went still. “Yeah. I know. But, I just think that it would be really good if we thought about this critically. I think that critical thought shows that the narrative has spun to show that people think you rescuing me was romantic. They think Alan sucks, and amen to that, and I think that if we spin this as the best thing that ever happened to us, we are both going to be better off.”

“That’s what you think?” he asked.

“It is what I think,” she said. “Because the whole Internet has turned you into a sex object.”

“Well, how nice for me. Do you think that maybe I might want to capitalize on that rather than pretend to be in a relationship?”