Page 96 of Marrying Mr. Majestic

“Camille Nightingale Concannon, a man has standards,” he said with the flick of a hand.

I shot him a look. “He doesn’t meet yours?”

Dev shrugged. “Not interested. Never was. The day I met him last year, I noticed no fewer than four hookup apps on his phone—which is fine, by the way. You do you. But then don’t do me.”

Camille snickered and took another sip of her drink, turning back to me. “So the new hand is staying in the room under Dev’s apartment?”

Dev’s eyebrows furrowed. “What new hand?”

Way turned to glare at me as I winced and mouthed sorry. I’d been the one tasked with breaking the news to Devon about the new ranch hand.

“Uh…” I tried to figure out the best way to tell him. Dev didn’t take to strangers very well, and he was almost as particular about his private space as Way had been when I’d met him. “He kind of fell in our lap. Got a call from a kid down in Boulder. Said he knew horses and was going to be in the area this summer between semesters. It was too good to pass up.”

“Why wasn’t I involved in the hiring?” he asked, turning his glare on my husband.

Way didn’t let the glare intimidate him. “You know anyone in Majestic who can ride and can also start work in less than a week?”

Dev’s nostrils flared.

Way nodded. “I’ll take that as a no. Besides, it’s only for the summer. If he doesn’t work out, we’ll find someone more permanent in a few months.”

“He plays polo,” I blurted.

Camille’s eyes widened, and Dev’s expression turned exasperated. He snapped at Way. “You hired a polo brat to do roundup? Waylon, Jesus.”

I kind of loved that Dev was comfortable enough around Way now to speak freely. But at the same time, I was going to appreciate seeing my friend eat crow when he saw how good the new guy was on horseback.

“You were a polo brat,” I pointed out.

Dev glared at me. “I only learned polo after stabling my horse at a polo club. And that’s how I know most of those guys don’t know shit about working a ranch.”

Way stood up straighter. “I don’t know about the polo thing, but we’re desperate now that Taza’s gone. If the kid can stay in the saddle and is willing to work long days, that’s good enough.”

Camille, ever the peacekeeper, tried changing the subject as soon as Sheridan and Bo walked up. “Hey, how’s construction coming on your new place, Dev?”

“It’s coming.” The words were little more than a grunt, but the small, satisfied smile on Dev’s lips spoke volumes.

Once Dev had moved from “for the time being” to “indefinitely” sticking around, we’d offered him acreage on the ranch to build his own place, but he’d refused to take any part of the land that had been in Way’s family for generations. Instead, he’d taken his time about selecting the right spot, and he’d wound up finding a rare parcel of land for sale that abutted the northwestern edge of Fletcher Ranch. It was a gorgeous spot, and since he owned it outright, he’d be able to keep it as a vacation home even if he changed his mind about living here in Majestic permanently.

“Seems like things are finally settling down.” Way leaned his arm against mine. “Don’t get me wrong, this past year’s brought a whole bunch of good changes, but now it feels like everyone’s right where they’re supposed to be. Far as I’m concerned, things can stay just as they are for a little while.”

“I agree.” Sheridan smiled. “With one big exception.”

Way stopped with a loaded nacho halfway to his mouth. “What exception?”

Bo wrapped his arm around Sheridan’s waist and put his other hand over her lower belly. They didn’t even get the words out before Camille squealed and Way’s eyes bugged out.

“A baby?” Way asked.

Sheridan nodded. “A baby.”

“A baby?” Way repeated, as if the news of having a baby was something fantastical, only heard about in legends and myths.

I bit back a laugh. “They’ve been trying for a while,” I reminded him before turning to the happy parents-to-be. “Congratulations, that’s exciting. When are you due?”

She beamed and began telling us all about it. I noticed Dev melt away from the group the way he sometimes still did when the subject got too… familial. I let him go, knowing he simply wanted time and space to himself.

I noticed Way wasn’t saying much, either, so I pulled him aside a little. “Talk to me,” I murmured in a low voice.

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