Page 10 of Marrying Mr. Majestic

We’d finally started making some headway when the former mayor had up and bolted, taking most of Majestic’s money with him.

The town had decided I was the only one knowledgeable and trustworthy enough to fill the position and help us recover from the losses, which meant my time was now split between running my family’s ranch and running the town—a balancing act that was damned near killing me on my best day.

Foster grumbled. “I don’t like this, Way. This husband of yours could take half the ranch. He could take half your truck.”

I huffed out a laugh. “Let him have the truck. Jesus, I almost didn’t make it back from Billings. I’d be better off riding Helios these days, if there were any place to stable him in town.” I thought about the ranch. My family’s legacy and my newly built tiny house tucked away on a portion of it. I’d built that place myself over the past eight years. The idea of having to sell it because of one stupid mistake in Vegas made me sick to my stomach. “It’s in a trust. I only own a fourth of it. Most he could take us for would be an eighth of the value after the mortgage.”

Not that I could afford to buy him out of even that much, but I knew my sisters and brother would agree to take out a second mortgage if need be. I just didn’t want to have to put them in that situation again.

“You need to serve him papers first,” he said with a firm nod. “Get ahead of this thing.”

“He’ll probably track me down eventually and get the ball rolling. He’ll have his attorney handle it. He seemed like the kind of guy who already has a lawyer and some money,” I admitted. “So maybe he wouldn’t expect anything, or maybe… maybe half his assets would be the same as half mine, and we could just… ignore all that and sign the papers. He was a nice guy, Foster. And, uh…” My mind wandered as I thought of him. I remembered chemical symbol tattoos on his upper arms and shoulders. Long, toned legs bared below the edges of boxer briefs. The memories were disjointed and scattered, but my fingers felt the memories of touch. “Tall,” I said with a swallow. “Tall as hell. Taller than you.”

“Hmm.” Foster frowned as he leaned back against a file cabinet and folded his arms again. His eyes flicked over my shoulder as if in thought.

“Lots of smile lines,” I continued. “But he didn’t smile overmuch. He was very intense. I remember that, too.”

Foster straightened. “Short brown hair?”

“Er, yeah? I mean, I suppose that’s an easy guess.”

His eyebrows lifted. “Broad shoulders? Ass so tight you could bounce quarters off it?”

“I… I didn’t say that.” I felt my cheeks heat.

“May or may not be in possession of the hat your dad gave you at graduation?”

I remembered the moment I realized I’d left my hat in the hotel room. “What? How could you know that?”

Foster’s lips turned into a grin. “Because I think your husband just tracked you down.”

I spun around and stared across the small lobby, which was definitely no longer empty. Sure enough, a very familiar silhouette strode confidently through the glass doors, carrying my Stetson in one hand and a stack of papers in the other. As he got closer, I noticed his eyes were just as intense as I recalled, but his expression otherwise was eerily neutral.

He wore faded denim jeans and a wash-worn flannel that looked suspiciously like one I’d donated to Bigford’s Thrift ’N Save several weeks ago.

My heart began to pound, and my head filled with helium. I reached out and clutched Foster’s arm to keep from toppling over in shock.

“Oh god,” I murmured under my breath.

“He sure is,” Foster muttered back. “My straight bestie goes to Vegas and pulls a hotter man than I ever could. Doesn’t seem fair, if you wanna know the truth.”

“Shut up,” I hissed. “Help me. I don’t know what to say.”

Foster looked Silas up and down with his assessing gaze at the same moment Silas’s eyes fell to where I was gripping Foster’s sleeve. If it was possible, Silas’s gaze got even more intense.

Foster chuckled. “Not so sure talking’s what he’s got on his mind, Waylon. I’m outta here. Ping me later and let me know how it goes.” He clapped me on the shoulder before pausing. Then, he leaned in to press a long kiss to my cheek.

My face flooded with heat. What the hell was he doing? We might’ve been cousins and best friends, but Foster Blake had never once kissed my cheek. As he pulled back, he shot me a knowing grin. “Don’t look at me, look at him,” he said softly before tipping the brim of his hat at Silas and leaving the building.

My eyes flashed to Silas in time to see his nostrils flare and his jaw clench. I didn’t appreciate feeling like the rawhide chew tossed between two feral dogs, but there was something about that possessive look in Silas’s eyes that shot a hook deep down inside me… and settled in for the long haul.

FOUR

SILAS

Just get the man to sign the papers. Just get the man to sign the goddamned papers.

It should have been an easy job. I had the papers in hand, and I had to assume, as mayor of this place, Way would have access to a notary public to witness the signatures. Quick and easy, and then we’d be on our way toward freedom.

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