Page 61 of Slow Hands Cowboy

He cultivated keeping all that to himself for a reason.

Of course, today, he was going to be putting on a performance, one that didn’t really feel like a performance. Because, yeah, Addison might be something like a nemesis, but one thing he couldn’t respect was a man who would leave a woman in the lurch like that. A man who would publicly humiliate the woman he was supposed to love. A man who then had blown up her text messages with outrage because she might be with another man. As if she owed him anything.

She sure as hell didn’t.

Men without honor would occupy the top of his shit list every time.

Because the man that he had believed to be his father was a no-account, good-for-nothing, faceless asshole, and the man who was his actual father wasn’t any better.

He had plenty of issues with his mother. But the fact of the matter was, he was able to have specific issues with his mother—rest in peace—because she had raised him.

There was a specific sort of trauma that a woman in her position passed on. Some of it was personal, some of it was circumstantial.

Poverty was a bitch. And he had felt driven to do whatever he needed to do to dig himself out of that pit.

But the reality was, at least their mother had raised them. At least she had been there, even though it was hard.

He could hold both truths in his hands at once.

That it wasn’t like she was going to win an award for being mother of the year—she had been so centered on a toxic relationship that it had absolutely affected her ability to care for her kids. But also, she had tried. To the best of her ability, which often hadn’t been enough, a hard truth that Walker had taken on board.

Sometimes your best wasn’t good enough. That was just life.

Still, he held the men in his mother’s life even more responsible for the problems that he had experienced, because they had caused a lot of the issues that she had to begin with.

She had been so much younger than Cody and Lila’s dad. He had always assumed his dad was a one-night stand. He was pretty damn sure that was the case. Maybe the guy didn’t even know about him, though it wasn’t like he had rushed to make contact after that ancestry match.

Or maybe he hadn’t logged in. Maybe he was in jail.

God knew that he deserved to be.

Whatever the case, Walker actually gave his contact info to every woman that he hooked up with because of that. A risk, sure. Because it wasn’t like he actually wanted them all to have access to him in perpetuity, but he needed to know if somebody got pregnant, because if that ever happened in spite of the precautions that he took, he would always support that woman and child. Deadbeats were the scum of the earth in his opinion. And even though there wasn’t a child involved, Alan was a deadbeat. Philosophically, in every way that mattered.

He was practically in cowboy costume: black t-shirt, black jeans and a belt buckle that he hadn’t worn since the rodeo, black cowboy hat and boots. Because hell, his cowboying was one of the things that had gone viral, and he figured that Alan ought to enjoy that.

He had a feeling Alan absolutely would not enjoy that, which he liked even better. Yeah. He really liked that.

He rolled up to the hotel, parked and walked into the lobby.

The Painted Ridge Resort was just as beautiful now, a few months out from opening as it had been on day one. He loved the place. A real, tangible look at the money they invested and what it had done.

It was modern and rustic all at once, with glorious windows facing the wide expanse of lawn outside, and the mountains beyond.

The elevator doors swept open, and out walked Addison. Who clearly understood the exact same assignment that he had been given internally.

If he had been a cartoon wolf, his eyes would have shot out of his head and an air horn would have played. His heart was pounding hard enough that he thought you might be able to see the impression of it in his chest.

It was ridiculous, sure, but the reaction that his body had to hers was damn near mythic.

If the dress she had been wearing out to dinner the other night was a revenge dress, this was a revenge casual summer outfit. Her shorts were short, showing off long, gorgeous legs, her crop top was tight, and when she moved he could see just a little bit of her midsection.

Her blonde hair was swept up into a high ponytail that curled just right, like an old-fashioned Barbie doll, which was maybe a ridiculous comparison, but it was the one that came to mind.

She didn’t have very much makeup on, and even so, her looks were deadly enough to knock him right on his rear.

Alan was going to be eating crow. And dying. And Walker really loved that for him.

You’re not in any different of a position from his. Neither of you can touch her.