Page 4 of Inheriting Miss Fortune

I swallowed hard. “Yes, sir.”

TWO

DEV

I’d heard about the Final Night celebration for months. The street festival was a Majestic, Wyoming tradition—a chance for Majesticans to enjoy the final days of the low season before the hiking, fishing, and mountain climbing tourists took over the area around Memorial Day—and so far, just being here for it tonight had made me feel like a true local.

And I guessed, at this point, I was. Majestic had been my home now for almost a year. When I’d arrived to help my friend Silas and his new husband, Waylon Fletcher, with roundup on the Fletcher family’s ranch, I’d never expected to stay for long. But the wide-open space, the scent of horse and hay, and the utter lack of anyone other than Silas who knew my sad story had made it a kind of unexpected sanctuary. So I’d bought some land and put down roots for the first time in years. After the last thaw, I’d broken ground on my first house, and now I rode my horse, Trigger, over there nearly every day to oversee construction and bask in the natural beauty of the site.

For the most part, I had everything I’d ever wanted. A beautiful outdoor playground with never-ending trails to ride. A purpose in improving Fletcher Ranch’s horse breeding program and helping care for the herds. Good friends who reminded meto laugh and enjoy living in the present rather than stewing over the past. A secret billion dollars in the bank—a number that still terrified me sometimes but meant I’d never go back to my hardscrabble childhood. And soon enough, when construction was finished, I’d have a place on Earth to call my very own.

But despite all of that, as I made my way through the late-afternoon crowd of revelers on Poke Street, I was half-inclined to head back to the ranch and call it a night. Way’s sister had announced her pregnancy earlier in the evening, and seeing the Fletcher family’s excitement over the news was bittersweet. There had been times in the past year when I’d envied their close family dynamic, but other times, like tonight, it had made me uncomfortable. They weren’tmyfamily—not that I had much of one anymore—and being around them sometimes reminded me of my loss.

Watching Silas and Way fall in love and build a life together sometimes hit me the same way. I was glad for Silas, of course. More than glad. After a decade of being the rock and the fixer for the tight-knit group of college friends we referred to as our “brotherhood,” he deserved to soak up every bit of happiness he could find, and it was clear Way loved him deeply. Watching the pair together, though, I’d started to feel that maybe I didn’t haveeverythingI wanted. The winter nights out here were long and cold, and I’d often wondered if they’d be better spent with a warm body and kind soul sharing my bed. While Majestic was a wonderful place to live, it wasn’t exactly brimming with what Way jokingly referred to as “casual encounters,” much less potential life partners.

Not that I had any interest in one of those anyway.

“Devon, get over here!” Way’s Aunt Blake called from the nearby Love Muffin booth, where she was busy passing out her famous toffee bars and honey garlic chicken skewers. Big vats of lemonade weighed down a table behind her, and coolers full ofice were stacked underneath. My arms twinged at the reminder of the heavy lifting I’d helped her with earlier.

“Congratulations,” I said, offering her a smile after hearing Sheridan and Bo’s news. No one would spoil that baby more than Jolene Blake. “I just saw Sheridan and Bo.”

Her face lit up as she handed me a skewer. “Gonna have us a baby, Dev. Best be prepared, especially since Waylon is going to take a little warming up to the idea.”

That surprised me. Silas’s husband seemed like the quintessential family man. “He doesn’t like kids?” I understood the aversion. Babies and I didn’t really get along, mostly because I didn’t know what to do with them. As a single man, I mostly spent my time with other guys. I hadn’t spent much time around kids at all.

“It’s not that. He just doesn’t have experience. It’s okay. He’ll get over it real quick, don’t you worry.”

I nodded while thinking,Better him than me. I liked my life just the way it was. Being able to take a long trail ride whenever the mood hit, having the option of eating cereal for dinner five nights in a row, and barking out the wordfuckwhen it was called for were all freedoms I wouldn’t have if I’d ever chosen to raise a kid.

No, thanks. Not for me. It was one of the best-known benefits of being a gay man. No one assumed kids were part of my life plan.

“I’m sure he’ll be a doting uncle,” I said politely before pulling a piece of chicken off the skewer with my teeth.

She gave me an assessing glance. “You’ll make a good father, too, one day.”

I nearly choked on the chicken. “No, thanks.”

“I can see it. Maybe now’s not the right time, but you find the right man, and it’ll happen.”

Jolene Blake was a force to be reckoned with. She’d decided early on to adopt me whether I liked it or not. Most of the time, I liked it fine. She brought me dinner, made sure I was included in family meals, and introduced me to various townsfolk. Her attention to me had started as an intense matchmaking scheme trying to connect me with her son, Foster, and she was still hell-bent on getting the two of us together.

I’d avoided her schemes for the most part—only because he was Way’s best friend and unavoidable in Majestic—on the chance things between us became awkward.

But one night in the dead of winter and after one too many drinks at the Old Oak, Foster and I had come close. We’d stayed late at a corner table, sharing intimate confessions about previous hookups and life regrets. When I’d asked him if he wanted to come back to the ranch with me, no strings attached, he’d offered me a soft smile.

“Would it be better than the last guy you were with?”

I’d huffed out a laugh. “My memory hardly goes back that far, Sheriff.”

This was a lie. My memory of the last man I’d been with was crystal clear. I’d been back in Texas a couple of years ago, doing a favor for an old friend. She’d invited me to a party, where I’d met one of her coworkers.

He’d been drop-dead sexy and just the right amount of cocky, not to mention buttoned-up, slicked-down, and urbane in a way that made me want to put my hands on him, if only so I could mess up his perfect exterior. It had been memorable, alright. So memorable I hadn’t bothered hooking up since then because it would most likely be a disappointment in comparison.

Foster must have seen the wistful look on my face. “Uh-huh. Why don’t we table this discussion for another time?” Foster had said with a low laugh. “Maybe a time when we both aren’t feeling the effects of the weather and whiskey.”

We’d never made another attempt. Instead, we’d become good friends, creating the kind of relationship I didn’t dare fuck up with sex.

But his mother liked to think it was just a matter of time. Even now, she nodded toward where Way and Silas were still joking around with Sheridan and Bo and said coyly, “Looks like Foster found the fun crowd. You should join them. Let loose a little. Tell my son to do the same while you’re at it.” She shot me a wink, and I returned an eye roll.

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