Page 37 of Marrying Mr. Majestic

His eyes danced, and I wondered if he was pulling my leg. “Is there another kind, cowboy?”

I huffed out a laugh. “I can’t picture you learning archery while living in New York City.”

“A few years ago, I read a book about focus. At the time, I was feeling overwhelmed and scattered. Too much on my plate. Too many commitments and not enough time to think. My goal was to learn how to ground myself, how to focus better. The author suggested several key elements involved in learning how to clear mental clutter. They used archery as a metaphor, but for some reason, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I discovered there was a place in the city that gave lessons, so I signed up on a whim. I fucking loved it. Still do.”

I grinned at him. “Well, city boy. You’ve come to the right place. Our summer rodeo has an archery competition. Maybe you could try your hand at displaying your talents to the locals.”

His laugh filled my little house with something it had been missing. A warmth and ease that made me want to settle in like a fox in a burrow.

“Maybe I will, cowboy.” Silas’s bare foot stretched out to nudge mine under the table. “What about you? I know you did junior rodeo, but what events were you good at?”

I told him about roping and barrel racing and about my mother’s fears keeping me from even attempting bull riding. He told me about playing lacrosse in high school, which led to me asking a million questions about the sport since we didn’t have it here in Majestic. We talked for a long time about growing up, about being responsible for our younger siblings, and about taking pride in working hard.

It was strange to me to discover just how much the two of us had in common, considering we had such different backgrounds.

“What about pets?” I asked, wondering what other common things spouses should know about each other.

“No pets. I travel too much.” Silas paused. “But I did have an iguana in college.”

“No shit?”

His smile was distracting. Whenever his lips turned up like that, his eyes went from intense to blindingly bright. My stomach clenched with desire for him in a way it never had for Eden or anyone else.

“His name was Chase.”

My eyes moved down to his lips. It was difficult to concentrate on the conversation when all I wanted was to kiss him again. “That seems like an awfully normal name for an iguana.”

His smile dropped, and his eyes went back to their usual dark intensity. “Can we stop talking now?”

I held his gaze. My stomach was a riot of writhing snakes. “Why?”

He watched me for a moment. “Practice.”

My heart pounded erratically. “Practice what?”

Silas stood up. My eyes immediately dropped to the visible dick print in the front of his sweats. My head felt light and untethered while my dick selfishly demanded all the available blood supply.

Instead of answering, he reached out his hand.

I glanced over at the archway to my sleeping nook, where there was still only one bed. Visions of a naked Silas climbing in beside me, after months and months of only the company of my hand, filled my head. The idea of sharing a bed with him was both exciting and terrifying.

“Practice,” I murmured.

“Mm.”

I stood up slowly. My legs felt boneless and shaky. “Who said I needed practice?”

Silas’s eyes roamed up and down my body in a slow, sultry pan. “It’s probably best if I assess your abilities just to be sure.”

Heat pooled low in my belly as I tried to put on a brave face. “Be gentle with me…” I locked eyes with him. “Husband.”

FOURTEEN

SILAS

Hearing this beautiful cowboy call me husband did something to me. When Kenji had first used the word, it had been jarring. Wrong. A reminder of all the things I’d once thought I’d wanted before I learned how devastating relationships could be.

But now, the word cut through me, hot and sharp. It was a good pain, unexpected and strangely settling at the same time. While I had my sister and my brotherhood of friends, there was something about having a husband—even a temporary, accidental one—that felt different. More intimate. More… mine.

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