Page 78 of Marrying Mr. Majestic

I moved my hands to his chest. “You work your ass off for this town and for your family. You’re overloaded and exhausted, and I refuse to contribute to that in any way. I will do whatever you think will bring you the most comfort and relief. Just tell me what it is.”

Way quirked his lips into a cheeky grin. “You do a pretty good job of bringing me relief as it is, Silas.”

I stepped closer to him and moved my hands around the back of his neck until my fingers found the flipped-up ends of the hair at his nape. “I believe it goes without saying I’m not taking sex off the table. Whatever else you want from me, Mayor, will come with a healthy helping of free sexual favors as well.”

“And thank god for that.”

I moved even closer until our stomachs brushed together. He stood up straighter, bringing his chest against mine. “I want you to be yourself,” he murmured. “I don’t want you to hold back or hide away.”

“I can go back to being First Gentleman, then?” I teased. My eyes couldn’t help but trace his full lips.

Way’s hands were warm as they moved up my back to my shoulders. “I should be so lucky.”

We kissed until the water in the saucepan boiled over and let out a loud hiss.

The family cookout at his Aunt Blake’s went off without a hitch. After our conversation about my role in his life, Way seemed to lean into the subterfuge and embrace our relationship as happy husbands. We held hands and brought each other drinks and plates of food. When asked about issues around town by friends and neighbors, Way often asked my advice or indicated my willingness to help.

It took me a while to trust his mood after he’d been so prickly about my offers of help, but over the following few weeks, we settled into an easy routine, so easy it almost felt real. Way and I worked our asses off during the days, whether at the ranch, City Hall, or my own consulting job via online meetings, phone calls, and copious amounts of emails. At night, we came together as if we were touch-starved, satisfying the kind of lust I hadn’t known existed outside of a porn set.

On the weekends, he introduced me to the joys of Majestic’s adventure offerings. I tried rock climbing (hard pass, thanks), hiking (during which I made sure to be on vigilant snake alert), mountain biking (which did, in fact, require Squirrel’s Nut Butter at least once), white water rafting (both terrifying and thrilling), and trail riding. Since the trail riding happened on private Fletcher land, it allowed for a hundred percent more casual encounters than any of the other adventures.

All in all, trail riding had turned out to be my favorite.

As June advanced toward July, preparation for the AdventureSmash exhibition ramped up, and the inevitable end of our marital charade loomed closer.

I tried not to think about it, but one day in late June, a call from Kenji brought it up in a way that I could no longer ignore.

“…not legally binding. So they wanted to make sure you didn’t want an actual contract agreement with your… legal spouse. All the divorce paperwork has been prepared, and I’m overnighting you the copies Way needs to sign. I can notarize them after he sends them back as long as you Zoom with me when he signs them.”

I’d been distracted by the sight of several kayakers paddling past the bench by the river where I’d chosen to take the video call. It was a gorgeous day, and I’d gotten tired of sitting at the kitchen table.

“Sorry, what?” I said, catching on the D-word.

“They apologized that it took so long.”

“That what took so long? Preparing the divorce paperwork? I don’t see why we need it until July.”

“They assumed you wanted to start the clock on the six-month waiting period as soon as possible.”

I couldn’t bring myself to tell Kenji that I hadn’t spent a single moment thinking about the divorce paperwork since the day I’d arrived in Majestic. Thinking about it now, the reality of filing for divorce, my divorce, from Waylon hit me harder than I expected. I stared out at the river. The water rushed by, causing the colorful boats to bob up and down as the current took them around the curve and on toward town.

“Silas?” Kenji’s voice snapped my attention back.

“Yeah. Yes. Fine. Okay.”

“So what about the additional contract? Yes or no?”

“I don’t… Sorry. I’m distracted. What additional contract?”

“They keep asking me if you’re sure you want to stick with just a statement of intent instead of a legally binding contract.”

“What do you mean? I thought the statement of intent was legally binding?”

He paused and took a breath, a move I’d seen and heard him make a million times. “This is what I tried to tell you when you asked me to make it happen. A statement of intent isn’t legally binding.”

Landry’s voice piped up from somewhere off-screen. “I still don’t see why he doesn’t just toss a few stacks of cash at the guy and come the fuck home. Surely he’s had enough dick at this point to?—”

Without changing his facial expression, Kenji took his pen and shot it in the direction of Landry’s voice. “As I was saying, the attorneys wanted me to check in with you about whether or not you wanted them to prep an actual contract or whether you want to let it ride. They said you should be okay once the divorce proceedings have begun but that Waylon will still have the option to contest it until it’s final.”

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