Page 48 of Marrying Mr. Majestic

Kenji sighed and continued to shake his head. Dev’s wide eyes turned soft. Bash’s grin faded. “Holy shit, Silas,” he said.

“No,” I said, pointing at the screen. “Do not even think about it. Whatever you’re going to say needs to remain unsaid. Understand?”

Bash tilted his head and opened his mouth. I cut him off. “I do not have feelings for him. I don’t have feelings for anyone. Never again, remember? I learned my lesson with Justin.”

And it was true. I knew better than to develop real feelings for another man after the way Justin had played me. The brotherhood had been through too many examples of people using us for our money, of people pretending to care about us before taking advantage of our financial situation.

That was exactly what had happened with Justin Hardy, and I’d felt like a fool. So much so that I’d tried my hardest to keep Bash from making the same mistake with Rowe. Even though Rowe seemed to be the exception, he hadn’t been around long enough for us to know for sure. And he was definitely profiting right now as the brotherhood worked to make his business idea a billion-dollar success.

“I have to go,” I said, remembering I needed to buy boots before my riding lesson. It was as good an excuse as any to get off this damned call. The thought of my lesson with Natana reminded me of what she’d said earlier about bailing on roundup. “Hey, Dev… do you know anyone who can help round up horses?”

“Like… for what?”

“Way’s ranch keeps herds of horses over winter for all the local dude ranches. This weekend, they’re scheduled to round them all up and move them out to wherever they go in summer. They’re short-handed this year. I thought maybe you?—”

“I can do it,” he said abruptly.

A small spark of excitement flashed for a split second in his eyes before disappearing. It was more than any of us had seen in a while. Bash and I exchanged a look.

“You sure?” I asked. “That would be amazing.”

“When do you need me?”

“By Friday at the latest. We can probably put you up in the family farmhouse.”

Another idea began to come together in my mind. I probably should have talked to Waylon about it before acting. It probably fell under the heading of Things Way Doesn’t Want Help With. And it was probably one of those times when, as Camille said, I didn’t need to fix someone’s problem for them.

But damn it, remembering the bone-weary look in Way’s eyes—the way he’d looked like he was going to pass out on the sidewalk this morning, for fuck’s sake—I decided I’d take the risk.

Way could be angry all he liked, after the fact. But for right now—for the next few weeks—the man was my husband… and I would not let him carry his burdens alone.

“Plan to stay for a while unless you have somewhere else to be,” I told Dev. “Things are going to be chaotic here through July Fourth. They can use some help on the ranch if you’re up for it.”

He nodded. “Yeah. Okay. I can… I can do that.”

Kenji nodded. “I’ll make the arrangements and let you know the details, Dev. Now, before I let you go, Silas…”

As Kenji did his final rundown of the work deliverables he needed from me, I let out a long breath. This felt right. Dev needed a distraction; he needed to get away from his grief and the heavy memories of his brother. Horses were his happy place, and I happened to have access to a ton of them.

Maybe the reason all of this had happened was to get Dev away from home and onto the ranch for a much-needed mental health break. Maybe this detour to Majestic, Wyoming, wasn’t about me at all. Maybe I was only here for a short time to introduce the Fletchers to Devon McKay. And maybe Dev could help lighten Way’s load here at the ranch. Maybe Way wouldn’t mind taking Dev’s help.

After ending the call, I tried refocusing on work for a little while longer. But images of Dev happily riding Trigger across the gorgeous rolling hills of Waylon’s ranch kept interrupting me.

Because in every single one of them, Way was happily riding Helios right next to him.

And something about that image didn’t sit right with me.

I gave up my attempt at working and headed out to buy some riding boots.

SEVENTEEN

WAYLON

After the third interruption by a well-meaning Majestican stopping by to either congratulate me on my marriage, inquire about my foolish decision to marry an outsider, or thank me for my “sweet husband’s generosity” for various and sundry help around town, I was ready to tear out my hair.

For the sake of my scalp, I decided to leave the office and head home.

“Bernice, I’ll be back in the morning. If you happen to see Taza Daggett, please ask him to give me a call. I could use his help with roundup this weekend.”

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