Page 77 of Marrying Mr. Majestic

“Holy fuck,” I breathed against the side of his face. “Fucking Christ.”

He let out a weak laugh, causing me to slide out of him. I snuggled against him, half on top of him, despite our sweat-damp skin and the fog of heat surrounding us in the bed nook. Way’s arms tightened around me.

“Yeah,” he said with a huff of laughter.

“You—”

“I’m okay,” he said, pre-empting my concern. He raked his fingers through my hair, lightly scratching my scalp with his nails the way I liked. “Very okay.”

“Maybe don’t ride Helios tomorrow,” I suggested.

Way let out another laugh. “Yeah, maybe not.”

I tilted my head up until my chin rested on his chest and I could see his face. “No regrets?”

There was clear affection in his expression that tightened my gut and made me feel helplessly happy.

“No regrets.”

I laid my head back on his chest and ran my fingers lazily up and down the skin of his abs.

“Being married’s not so bad,” I offered with a grin Way couldn’t see. “Better than most casual encounters.”

He poked strong fingertips under my arm until I yelped and winced away from him. “Being married to me is better, you mean.”

“Of course that’s what I meant! I’ve only had one husband, Way.”

Way grabbed my chin and hauled my face up to meet his. And then he kissed me hard on the mouth in a soul-possessing, mind-melting, dick-hardening, marriage-affirming kiss.

The kiss turned into several more long minutes of appreciating my husband’s body before finally admitting I needed a break and sustenance.

“You know Aunt Blake is expecting us at her cookout this weekend,” Way reminded me after we showered and began poking around in the kitchen for something to eat. “It’s her big Memorial Day party. Expect half the town.”

I’d been around Way’s family enough by now to know they were supportive and welcoming. “Why do you sound so unenthusiastic about it? Are you worried about someone discovering our ruse?”

He shook his head as he pulled a box of macaroni out of the cabinet and held it up with a question in his expression. I nodded and reached for the saucepan to fill it with water. If my friends could see me eating boxed Mac n Cheese, they’d never let me live it down.

“I’m not worried about that. I just…” Way sighed and turned to prop his ass against the counter while crossing his arms over his chest. “I just hate going further down this road when I know they’re all going to be disappointed in me in July when you leave.”

I forced myself to sit at the kitchen table so I wouldn’t be tempted to touch him. “They love you. They’ll understand.”

“Will they?” He pursed his lips for a moment before inhaling. “They really like you. And the more time they spend with you, the more in lo—in like they fall.”

“I like them, too, but Waylon…” I tried softening my voice so I didn’t sound as annoyed as I was beginning to feel. “You can’t have it both ways. You can’t ask me to act like your true husband and then imply I need to keep from being friendly to your family.”

“I know that.”

I watched him to try and determine what was really going on in his head. He seemed to be struggling.

I gave up keeping my hands to myself and stood up again to rub the tension out of his shoulders while meeting his eyes. “Tell me what you want. Do you want me to be less friendly? Less helpful? Less like the kind of man you’d be married to? Maybe try to keep some distance? I could be less talkative. Stick around here more instead of coming into town.”

He uncrossed his arms and ran his hands down my sides to my hips. “I don’t understand why you’re so willing to help me. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful. You’ve gone along with everything I’ve asked of you, and now you’re even willing to do the opposite.”

I considered whether or not to confess the truth, the real reason I was inclined to do whatever he wanted. Waylon Fletcher was nearly impossible to lie to. He seemed like the kind of man whose integrity and determination were baked into the very core of his being.

“The night we met, you told me about offering yourself, your entire future, to a woman in need,” I explained. “You were so genuine and kind you even felt guilty for accepting free drinks from strangers who offered them to you.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Those drinks were fifteen bucks!”

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