by Addison Fox
“I’m hanging out behind the scenes a bit.”
“But back here?”
What was she doing back here? This was even too far out of the way for the bachelors to wait to take their turns onstage.
“Are you okay?”
He spotted a set of folding chairs propped against the wall, reached for one and quickly opened it, then turned back to her. Careful to keep his hand on her arm, he drew her toward the chair. “Come on and sit down here for a minute.”
Once he got her settled, she reached for him. “Get a seat for yourself.”
“I’m fine. Do you want anything? I can get you some water.”
“No, no. Just grab a seat my dear.”
Reaching for her hand, he sat there with her, waiting to get her whatever she needed. His impression from earlier in the day—that something really was wrong—rose up to haunt him again.
“Grandmother? Are you feeling sick?”
“No, no, dear.” She patted his arm. “Nothing like that.”
As they sat there in silence, mingled sounds swirled around them from the other side of the stage. The women were doing their level best to outshout each other and, when added to the booming loudspeaker, the room was operating at a dull roar.
“I’m glad you’re not sick, but are you going to tell me what’s gotten into you all of a sudden? It’s the crowning moment of your day and you look like the sky’s falling.”
“Aren’t I entitled to a sad moment now and again?”
“Of course. But what’s gotten in to you today? You look forward to this all year.”
“The same thing Mary and Julia are sad about.”
Walker prayed for patience as he took in the clearly miserable set of his grandmother’s face. Even her shoulders were visibly slumped through the bright fabric of her evening gown. “All three of you are upset? Did something happen?”
“Only that our grandsons have finally found love and they’re all too blind to see it.”
He nearly fell off the chair as he took in her words.
How did she know?
And Mick and Roman, too?
“Grandmother. What are you talking about?”
“You and Sloan. Mick and Grier. And Roman and Avery, although those two are so damned stubborn Julia knows she’ll be well and gone before those two figure themselves out. If they ever do. And now those women are going to go home and we’re far too afraid you’re going to let them. And well, as I said, Julia’s got a whole other set of worries about Roman.”
It was the same thought he’d had as he stomped out of the bachelor cave. And as much as he wanted to reassure his grandmother, he had to speak to Sloan first.
She had a right to know. Even if his grandmother had been waiting for this moment since the day he came into the world, the woman he loved deserved to hear the news first.
He had to get to Sloan.
“Look—”
She held up a hand to cut him off. “If you could only understand where we’re coming from. Where I’m coming from.”
What had gotten in to her? “Grandmother. If you’d just wait a bit.”
“I don’t have time to wait, Walker.” She gripped his arm again. “We all see it happening and I just can’t keep quiet on this.”
“Look. For the record, I could give a rat’s ass about Mary and Julia and Mick and Roman. I’m talking to you. And while I appreciate your concern, I’m a grown man. And I need you to trust that I know what I’m doing.”
“But it’s all slipping away. Don’t you see that?”
Walker was about to protest when her next words stopped him cold.
“It’s just like your father.”
Ice filled his veins, running cold fingers down his spine before settling low in his gut. “What about my father?”
“Don’t let him stand in the way of your happiness. That woman is the answer. She’s what you’ve been searching for, Walker.”
“What about my father?”
“I know all of it, Walker.” At what must have been an incredulous stare, she added, “I’ve known for a very long time.”
This wasn’t possible.
It just was not possible.
He’d been so careful. Had carried the secret for so fucking long. How could she possibly know?
“But how?”
“He’s my son. And I love him, no matter how awful his behavior. And you of all people know there are no secrets in this town.”
“But they’ve kept it from you. They didn’t want to upset you.”
“Then your father shouldn’t have taken up with every light skirt he could find in Anchorage, Fairbanks and Juneau and every small town in between.”
Walker fought the urge to drop his head into his hands as he tried desperately to process his grandmother’s words through the shouting and merriment echoing toward him from the other side of the stage.
Everything he thought he knew was yet again turned on its ear.
He’d lived with the lies for so long—and the very person he’d thought to protect had known all along. She’d known he was keeping a secret from her and she’d never said anything.
Was anything real?
Anything at all?
Chapter Twenty-three
Sloan glanced around the now crowded dance floor and tried to stem her confusion. Most of the town was gathered in the ballroom, dancing and having a great time, but she couldn’t get into any of it.
Where was Walker?
She’d sat through the entire auction, not surprised as bachelor after bachelor came up with no sign of him. With all the fuss Sophie, Julia and Mary had made about getting two of the three grandsons on the auction block, she had every expectation they’d go last.
But the auction had been over for thirty minutes and Walker was nowhere to be found.
She didn’t want to be clingy. She would not be clingy. She hated clingy.
But where was he?
Catching sight of Roman, she made eye contact and waved him over, surprised at how quickly he extricated himself from the woman he was in conversation with. He leaned in and pressed his lips to her cheek in a gallant kiss. “I could kiss your feet right now. Thank you.”
“It looks like the viper from Chicago was giving you a run for your money.”
“You’re not kidding. That woman could give a whole parking lot full of rink bunnies a run for their money.”
“Ewww.” Sloan held up a hand.
“I’m just kidding. I’m not nearly as indiscriminate as the tabloids would have you believe. I have absolutely no idea how a parking lot of women would behave.”
She couldn’t resist his infectious smile and despite her anxiousness at finding out where Walker had gone, also couldn’t resist a small dig on Avery’s behalf.“Self-diagnosis, Doctor?”
“Self-preservation, more like it.”
Her gaze roamed the room on the off chance she had somehow missed Walker and wouldn’t have to lower herself to asking after him.
And when another head count around the room turned up no sign of him, she bit the bullet. “Have you seen Walker?”
“Yeah. It’s been a while, though. He was backstage for the auction and then ended up leaving as we were waiting.”
“He just left?”
“Yeah. Said something about a bull chute.”
“I’m sorry?”
The grin got even wider. “Sorry. Inside joke.”
“Okay. Well, if he was there before, do you know where he headed off to?”
“Come to think of it, no.”
“If you see him, let him know I headed back to the hotel.”
“Will do.”
Sloan had already turned to walk away when Roman stopped her with a tap on the shoulder. Turning back to face him, she was intrigued by the lines furrowing his brow and the tight set of his mouth. “Can I tell you something?”
“Of course.”
“It’s not one-sided.”
Sloan ran through the appropriat
e responses, from playing dumb to genuine outrage on behalf of her friend. In the end, she settled for simple. “Oh?”
“It’s not. I mean, it’s more me than her, but it’s not all me.” He ran a hand through his hair, no evidence of the carefree smile he’d just sported anywhere near his face. “Look. After a while, it’s hard to keep coming back when all you get is your past thrown in your face. That’s all I wanted to say.”
She knew what it was to have your past haunt you repeatedly and for the first time, she actually felt a small measure of sympathy for Roman Forsyth. “That’s the first thing you’ve said that makes me think you’re sort of human instead of some hockey god.”
The smile was back in full force. “Well, I’m a hockey god, too.”
“How could I forget?”
She turned around to leave and realized she had one more thing to say. “You know, sometimes the only way to forget your past is to change your future.”
“Yeah. But you have to want to change.”
On a shrug, she had to admit he had a point. “I guess you’re right. Still, I remain forever amazed that it’s often the easiest answers that are the hardest.”
Five minutes later she entered the Indigo’s lobby wrapped again in her fuzzy boots, her strappy heels dangling from her hand, her own words ringing in her ears.
Simple answers, hard decisions.
That fit her situation with Walker to a T. And maybe it was time to level with him and tell him that.
If she could find him.
Mingled voices rumbled through the lobby as she moved toward the elevators. It looked like a few bachelor/bachelorette combinations were on their way to getting to know each other better. She’d seen several heated glances during the bidding and had high hopes for all of them that things would work out.
And wouldn’t that be a lovely ending to her story.
She caught sight of another bachelor in a tuxedo and Sloan imagined what Walker would have looked like had he made it up on the auction stage. She’d had it on good authority from Avery that he was wearing a tux and she had no doubt the man would look damn fine in black and white.
So where was he?
Stabbing the CALL button, she had to admonish herself. Oh, who was she kidding?
The man looked damn fine all the time, regardless of the attire. Or lack thereof, she couldn’t help adding to herself, as the cat-n-cream smile spread across her face.
Stepping from the elevator, she dug into her purse for her keycard and dipped the plastic into the reader. The door swung open and she immediately caught sight of a large form, sprawled on the bed in the muted light coming from a blaring TV. A moment of panic assailed her before recognition dawned.
“Walker?”
A heavy groan reached her from the direction of the bed.
The initial shock of fear evaporated as a different sort of fear replaced it.
What was wrong with him?
And what was he doing in her room? Groaning from the bed?
“Walker. What’s wrong?” The stench of liquor hit her halfway across the room and the reality of why he was sprawled on the bed and not at the auction hit her. Is this what he’d been doing?
Getting drunk in her room?
“What is the matter with you?”
He rolled onto his back. “About four glasses of whiskey, I think.”
She snapped on a light and saw him wince from the sudden brightness. “Why?”
“I was trying to forget. But fuck it all, it didn’t work. Maybe I should have more, but it’s like each glass makes it easier to think. Easier to feel.”
He still wore his heavy parka and she tugged on his arm to pull him to a sitting position. Slipping off the heavy coat, she managed to get him out of one arm before he flopped back against the pillows.
She was right about the tux, at least. Underneath the heavy winter coat, he was dressed head to toe in black and white and the jacket tangled around his back and shoulder. Dragging on the lapel, she tried to pull up the material to fit to his frame.
“Come on. Help me here, would you?”
Recognizing a losing battle with the sleeve, she pushed at him, trying to force him to roll to the side she’d already removed from the coat when his hand snaked out and wrapped around her stomach. A loud ripping noise rent the air as the force of his movement stretched the ill-fitted tuxedo coat. “Hey, baby.”
“Don’t hey, baby me. You’re drunk and semi–passed out and I want to know why. You didn’t even come out for the auction, which you promised your grandmother you’d do.”
“I did, too.”
“So how’d you end up here?” With another push she managed to dislodge him so that he rolled enough to let her grab the other sleeve and pull the coat free.
He sighed loudly and pulled up the now shredded sleeve. “That’s good. It’s hot in here.”
“I’d imagine so based on the layers of clothing you’re wearing.” She tossed the parka over one of the chairs in the sitting area and reached for a bottle of water, unscrewing the cap. “Here. Drink this.”
He struggled up again and gulped down half the bottle. The bowtie was untied at his throat and damn, if the hanging ends of the tie didn’t look like a fantasy straight out of a men’s magazine.
Forcing her hormones in line, she switched her gaze on the depleting water bottle. She kept watch on him as he drank and didn’t miss the unfocused gaze or the slight swaying of his shoulders as he gulped down the water. “That’s good.”
“Finish it up and I’ll get you another one.”
She headed for the small dressing area outside the bathroom where the maid service restocked everything and grabbed another water. His eyes were less glazed as she handed him the second bottle and she was pleased to see he looked steadier.
“Now. You want to tell me why you’re up here in my room getting drunk instead of down at the auction and dance with the rest of the town?”
“You can thank my grandmother for that.”
“Walker. Come on and cut the riddles. What happened?”
“According to my grandmother, I’m in love. But I’m too fuckwit stupid to do anything about it because of my father. Or he’s the fuckwit.” Walker rubbed his forehead. “I’m a bit fuzzy on that. But it’s all because of him that I can’t seem to close the deal on love, and my grandmother’s known all along and she’s sad and miserable and she lied to me.”
Sloan wasn’t sure what to make of his impassioned speech and she couldn’t quite bring herself to ask him if he was actually in love with her so she focused on the last part.
“What do you mean she lied to you?”
“She’s known about my father. All along, basically. She’s known the truth.”
“Maybe she was trying to protect you.”
“Or him. Or, hell, I don’t know.”
“Does it really matter?” Her voice was quiet as she tried to puzzle through what he must be feeling. Tried to justify his drunken behavior by reminding herself he’d received a large emotional blow. He was struggling to come to grips with it even as her own heart was breaking as they casually discussed what was between them.
Or not between them.
His dark eyebrows narrowed over his slightly unfocused brown gaze. “Does what matter?”
“Your father. Your grandmother. Any of what’s come before?”
“Of course it matters.” The angry notes of his voice floated over her, but they were noticeably less slurred than when she’d first walked in.
“But why? Can you explain that to me? Because honestly, I really don’t see how it affects you. Or what’s between us.”
“There’s nothing between us.”
She leaped off the bed at that, whirling on him and his callous words. “You can honestly sit there, look me in the eye and tell me you believe that?”
With a wave of his hand, he gestured her back to the bed. “I didn’t mean it the way it came out.”
“Okay. So explain it to me.”
>
“I meant . . .” His voice faltered as he stopped and gathered himself. “Aww, Sloan. Come on. Don’t look at me like that. What I meant is that you and I have had a wonderful time, but you don’t live here.”
“If this is you digging out of a hole, you need to find another shovel.”
“What? It’s not like you’d consider staying, right?”
The tables turned so swiftly she had to stop herself from the reply that sprang to her lips, unbidden.
Yes. Always and forever. As long as you want me.
“I’m not playing this game with you. And you haven’t answered my question. I want to know why you think your father’s infidelity has anything to do with you.”
“It doesn’t have anything to do with me. Not directly. But at the same time it’s all about me. About how I was raised and what he passed on to me.”
Sloan threw up her hands, not sure if she was dealing with the residual effects of the whiskey or the residual effects of almost two decades of hurt.
Or both.
“That’s bullshit, Walker. It’s all about what you choose to make of your life.”
“And what if I hurt you? Like he hurt my mother.”
“You wouldn’t do that.”
“I never thought he would, either. But he did. And does. Every day he lives a lie.”
She had no idea how to handle his resistance. No clue how to make him see reason. So she did the only thing she did know how to do.
“I can’t speak for you, Walker. I don’t know what drives you or what experiences you’ve lived through that have brought you to today. I can guess and I can piece things together, but I really don’t know. All I know is what’s inside of me.”
And in that moment, she saw it. It flared to life in the depths of his gaze as he leaned forward slightly and reached for her hand. It was a tiny spark, but it gave her the smallest moment of hope there may actually be something real between them. It was buried deep and he was fighting it, but it was there.
She’d bet her future on it.
He pressed his lips to the back of her hand. “There’s so much inside of you. So much good. So much that’s wonderful.”
“Then why are you fighting it?”
