Page 111 of Slow Hands Cowboy

It just felt like a terrible thing, because she knew that she couldn’t have it.

She knew that it was a silly thing even to think. But still, part of her just... ached for it.

It was insane, because she’d been with Alan for years before they had even gotten engaged, and she was ready to just devote her whole life to Walker.

Maybe that was a normal thing, when somebody was part of such a big sea change in your life. When another person brought you to all these realizations about yourself.

When another person made you a much better version of yourself.

Except that didn’t sound like something fleeting. That sounded like something real.

Very, very real.

So it was the substance of who she was now. Part of who she was becoming. And that didn’t feel like a fling or a rebound or just sex.

They’d never labeled it anything. They had just let it be. But now it felt like something that couldn’t just sit there.

Because if she let it sit there, it might get away.

She might lose it.

So when she got back to his house, she did a get ready with me to go on a dinner date, and posted it. Then hoped that he didn’t see it. Because it felt kind of cringe.

Also, she didn’t want him to see her before they went out.

So she was rewarded by his appreciative reaction to the dress, and she had to remind him that they had actually made a reservation.

“You made a reservation at Spurs?” he asked, sounding disgruntled.

“Well, yes. I don’t like to have to wait for a table when I’m hungry.”

“All right. Let’s get you fed so that you don’t bite a chunk out of me.”

It was so easy to imagine that this was something real. That it was something that could be her life. She was just so much happier. So much happier than she’d been with Alan, and yeah, the sex was a decent part of it, but there was more.

She could be sillier with Walker. She could be random, and just tell him whatever she was thinking, and he didn’t act like he needed to tell her what to do. Or solve her problems, he just listened to her. He treated her like she had a brain in her head, and she wouldn’t have said that Alan treated her like she was dumb, or like he needed to make sure he managed her reactions to everything, but being with someone who didn’t do that was just so different that it highlighted that behavior.

She was learning so many things that she would have hated to live with by being with a man who was everything she hadn’t known she wanted to live with, yet was, effortlessly.

Of course, there was an element of the unknown with Walker, too. He was a man. It was like living with an entity that would always be somewhat unknowable, and she liked that. She liked the contrast of a man. But they contrasted in the right ways. She was still musing on that when they walked into Spurs, a big two-story building that was once the old saloon and dance hall. The upstairs was a mezzanine floor that went all the way around the large dining room, and looked down on the stage and tables below. The stage frequently still had performances on weekends, though this was a Wednesday night, so it was a little bit more relaxed.

So they sat down at their table, and she immediately started debating the merits of ribs with him.

“No,” he said. “Too much hassle for too little meat. I’d rather get brisket and drown it in barbecue sauce.”

“But the ribs are so juicy,” she said.

“And then you basically have to take a sink shower when you finish. And for what, Addison, I ask you.”

“I’m going to get the ribs to bug you.”

“I’m not going to be bothered, but I might have to lick your fingers clean.”

“I’m not sure that barbecue sauce lends itself to erotic play.” But she was smiling, and her face was getting hot.

“That sounds like a challenge, and you ought to know you don’t challenge me on things like this.”

“Walker, I’m not sure that⁠—”