Page 12 of Marrying Mr. Majestic

Then again, the waiting period would give me some time to figure out how to handle things better… and possibly consider offering him a settlement if things got contentious. And I hated seeing him stressed nearly as much as I’d hated seeing him sad the other night.

I nodded slowly. “Alright. I’ll get my people to prepare the paperwork for Delaware. You can get it notarized—out of town, I suppose—then we’ll file. Okay?”

Way blew out a breath, his shoulders dropping. “Yeah, good. Okay. Thank you. For understanding.”

“Let’s exchange contact information and stay in touch.”

We exchanged phones. His looked like it was several years old and had been caught in old sofa cushions for half its life or left out in a mud puddle a time or two. I quickly entered my contact info and handed it back before my fingers got nosy and clicked out of the contacts window.

Waylon wasn’t as reticent. He closed my contacts window and whistled when he saw my home screen. “That’s… a lot of apps.” His eyes met mine. “Tell me the truth, Silas. Have I married a closet phone addict?”

I grabbed my phone back and tucked it safely into my pocket. “Nothing closeted about it. I told you back at the bar that I’m on my phone all the time. I travel a lot for work, and I manage my life from my phone. Zero unread emails in my inbox,” I said proudly.

He mock shuddered. “This marriage was doomed from the get-go.”

It was ironic that he took the divorce papers off his desk a moment later, stepped over to a plastic paper shredder, and dropped them into the teeth. A loud grinding noise accompanied the loss of my plan A as the machine ate the notarized forms.

Way must have seen my face drop because he shot me a teasing look. “Let me buy you lunch before you go. Think of it as my first and last husbandly act. You can drown your sorrows in my brother-in-law’s chicken ranch wrap.”

I agreed, strangely relieved not to be saying goodbye right away. The idea of flying back to New York this afternoon and not seeing him again for a few months made me… uncomfortable.

My friend Bash would say this was because I was controlling and liked managing everything. Landry would make a snarky comment about me wanting to seduce the straight boy. Camille would suggest I needed a vacation that included fresh air and time in the great outdoors.

As I followed him out of the old building, I gave myself a stern lecture on the benefits of leaving Majestic as soon as possible. Waylon seemed just as willing as I was to end this marriage quickly and painlessly, so I needed to ensure things stayed exactly the way they were right now.

When we stepped into the late-spring sunshine, I closed my eyes and turned my face up to the warmth. The smooth felt of the cowboy hat dragged through my fingers as Way pulled it out of my grip. I opened my eyes to see him setting it on his head.

“Wouldn’t do to have anyone see you with this,” he muttered under his breath.

“I was hoping to keep that as a memento,” I said, only partially kidding.

Way winked at me, and it somehow sucked all the air out of my lungs, leaving me breathless and stupid.

“You’re wearing your memento,” he said, gesturing to my hand.

I looked down at the gold band and felt a wave of embarrassment. “It won’t come off. I’m going to have to see a jeweler when I get home and have it cut off or something.”

“Serves you right for talking an innocent man into?—”

“Innocent?” I cut him off. “Talking you into it? Are you kidding? As I recall?—”

Way held up his hands in surrender as his eyes crinkled with humor. “Woah, woah. I see we’re feeling a little sensitive about the situation. My bad.”

He was even more stunning when he smiled. I couldn’t help but stare. “You were there, too,” I said petulantly.

He stopped in front of an old Dodge truck I assumed was his and studied me, the smile still visible in his eyes. “I was. But I still can’t quite figure out how—Mr. Jenks! Nice to see you, sir.”

Way’s face transformed from teasing to an “aw-shucks” friendliness as he greeted an older man getting out of a truck that looked even worse than the Dodge.

“Mayor,” the man said, holding out his hand for a shake. “Just the man I was hoping to see.”

When they finished the shake, Way crossed his arms in front of his chest and leaned a hip against his truck hood. “What can I help you with?”

“Georgie Pollner over near Fenton is looking for some trail-riding stock for a group she has coming in next month. I told her to give you a call.”

Way’s shoulders stiffened almost imperceptibly. “Alright. Appreciate the referral. I can probably find her something, depending on how many head.”

The man smiled and nodded. “I told her you’d fix her right up. Said you’re the one to come to for it.” His eyes flicked to me and back to Way curiously. “Well, I guess I’ll let you get on with your day. Tell Sheridan I’ve got new chicks hatching if she wants any.”

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