Chapter 4
FOUR
SILAS
Just get the man to sign the papers. Just get the man to sign the goddamned papers.
It should have been an easy job. I had the papers in hand, and I had to assume, as mayor of this place, Way would have access to a notary public to witness the signatures. Quick and easy, and then we’d be on our way toward freedom.
But when I saw that big-ass law enforcement officer put his hands and mouth on my… on Waylon , I couldn’t help but see red.
“You told me you were straight,” I snapped.
His eyes widened. The man was even more beautiful than I remembered. “I am straight.”
I waved his hat in the direction of the tall fucker in the uniform shirt and duty belt, trying hard not to remember whiskey-flavored kisses on the dance floor. “All your local cops kiss their mayor like that?”
I bit my tongue against my pique. I hadn’t come here to lecture this man about anything. And at this rate, I was going to anger him right into refusing to sign the papers. I needed him docile, not annoyed. “Sorry,” I clipped. “None of my business.”
“Well…” His lips curved up a little. “You are my husband.”
Surprisingly, the word husband didn’t bother me coming from Way like it had when Kenji said it. In fact, hearing it now, I felt an odd sense of weight lifting. His tease reminded me of how easy I’d been in his company that night, how comfortable I’d felt around him.
“True,” I said, stepping closer and studying him. He looked tired and a little worn down. His eyes were wary, as if he was bracing for the difficult conversation ahead of us. “Uh… hi.”
This was incredibly awkward. I wanted to touch him in some way, reach for his hand, give him a hug, or… hell… press a kiss over the same spot on his cheek if only to wipe all trace of that other man’s kiss off him.
“Hey,” he said, face softening to a grin that made my stomach clench. “You sure showed up fast.”
I lifted one eyebrow. “Would’ve been even faster if you hadn’t run out yesterday morning and made me track you down.”
“I… I had to get back. Mayor stuff.” Way winced. “And… yeah, I guess I might’ve been a little freaked-out. What do you say to the man you accidentally married?”
His honesty made my annoyance soften further. “Ended up being a little more than a casual encounter, hmm?”
Way laughed and rubbed at the back of his neck. “You could say that.”
“Yeah,” I said stupidly. I glanced down at the papers in my hand and cleared my throat. “I, ah… I figured we could knock this out before I fly back east.”
Way glanced down, too, and quickly lost his smile. “Oh. Is that…? Yeah. Well, uh…” He seemed hesitant, which immediately set alarm bells ringing.
“You do want to dissolve this marriage,” I pushed. “Correct?”
“Yeah, yes! Of course I do. It’s just…” He looked around as if remembering we were still standing where others might be able to hear us. “Come in my office.”
I followed him past an empty desk and into a private office. The sign on the door read Mayor Waylon H. Fletcher, and I had to bite back a snicker that someone this young and somewhat naive was the mayor of anything. It was a testament to how tiny this town was. It had a sum total of six stoplights as far as I could see, and several heads had turned to stare at me outside as if it was obvious I was new in town.
When Way took a seat behind his desk, I sat the papers in front of him. “Already printed. My signature’s been notarized.”
His eyes snapped up to mine. “Not notarized here, though, right? Tell me Nicki at the post office wasn’t the one who?—”
“No. My assistant flew in and met me in Vegas. He’s a notary.” I pressed my lips closed and suppressed a groan. Could I possibly sound richer? Jesus, Silas . “I mean… he was coming to Vegas anyway. For a thing.”
Way studied the top page for only a second before glancing up at me. “Park County, Wyoming. You want to file here? No. No way. We’re not divorcing in Wyoming, Silas. It has to be Delaware.”
I frowned. “Why? Delaware has a waiting period of six months after we file. Wyoming doesn’t have a waiting period. I want this done.” I obviously didn’t mention the statement of net worth that would be required in almost any state. Kenji’s entire battle plan relied on a podunk judge overlooking the fact my statement would be thin on details.
Way shook his head. “I want it done, too, but I can’t do it here.” He gestured to his office door and lowered his voice. “Judge Whiteplume might keep this to himself, but his clerk absolutely will not. And as soon as she knows, everyone in town knows.”
I’d expected a homophobic reaction, and here it was. “And everyone in town will judge you for marrying a man?”
His chin jutted out. “No, asshole. They’ll judge me for marrying a stranger . Some guy I picked up in a bar when I was drunk!”
I felt like a jerk for assuming the worst, but I was strangely relieved to have him treat the gay part of this like it was no big deal. “People make mistakes, Way. It was a mistake.”
“First of all, I don’t make mistakes. This town counts on me to not bring scandal and drama, okay? We had enough of that with our last mayor. But also, I’m trying to land a big outdoor adventure race here in town, and I can’t have the powers that be at AdventureSmash finding out I’m embroiled in a… a… drunken Vegas marriage. So, we’ll have to do it in Delaware and wait the six months.” He glared at me, the sweet, naive cowboy suddenly taken over by the stressed town mayor. “And no one here will find out.”
I considered him for a long moment. Waylon was someone I wanted to trust. He seemed like a genuine, upright guy. But I’d been down that road before and had gotten burned very badly. People weren’t always what they seemed, and even if they were, sometimes people were desperate enough to cross even their own lines.
Then again, the waiting period would give me some time to figure out how to handle things better… and possibly consider offering him a settlement if things got contentious. And I hated seeing him stressed nearly as much as I’d hated seeing him sad the other night.
I nodded slowly. “Alright. I’ll get my people to prepare the paperwork for Delaware. You can get it notarized—out of town, I suppose—then we’ll file. Okay?”
Way blew out a breath, his shoulders dropping. “Yeah, good. Okay. Thank you . For understanding.”
“Let’s exchange contact information and stay in touch.”
We exchanged phones. His looked like it was several years old and had been caught in old sofa cushions for half its life or left out in a mud puddle a time or two. I quickly entered my contact info and handed it back before my fingers got nosy and clicked out of the contacts window.
Waylon wasn’t as reticent. He closed my contacts window and whistled when he saw my home screen. “That’s… a lot of apps.” His eyes met mine. “Tell me the truth, Silas. Have I married a closet phone addict?”
I grabbed my phone back and tucked it safely into my pocket. “Nothing closeted about it. I told you back at the bar that I’m on my phone all the time. I travel a lot for work, and I manage my life from my phone. Zero unread emails in my inbox,” I said proudly.
He mock shuddered. “This marriage was doomed from the get-go.”
It was ironic that he took the divorce papers off his desk a moment later, stepped over to a plastic paper shredder, and dropped them into the teeth. A loud grinding noise accompanied the loss of my plan A as the machine ate the notarized forms.
Way must have seen my face drop because he shot me a teasing look. “Let me buy you lunch before you go. Think of it as my first and last husbandly act. You can drown your sorrows in my brother-in-law’s chicken ranch wrap.”
I agreed, strangely relieved not to be saying goodbye right away. The idea of flying back to New York this afternoon and not seeing him again for a few months made me… uncomfortable.
My friend Bash would say this was because I was controlling and liked managing everything. Landry would make a snarky comment about me wanting to seduce the straight boy. Camille would suggest I needed a vacation that included fresh air and time in the great outdoors.
As I followed him out of the old building, I gave myself a stern lecture on the benefits of leaving Majestic as soon as possible. Waylon seemed just as willing as I was to end this marriage quickly and painlessly, so I needed to ensure things stayed exactly the way they were right now.
When we stepped into the late-spring sunshine, I closed my eyes and turned my face up to the warmth. The smooth felt of the cowboy hat dragged through my fingers as Way pulled it out of my grip. I opened my eyes to see him setting it on his head.
“Wouldn’t do to have anyone see you with this,” he muttered under his breath.
“I was hoping to keep that as a memento,” I said, only partially kidding.
Way winked at me, and it somehow sucked all the air out of my lungs, leaving me breathless and stupid.
“You’re wearing your memento,” he said, gesturing to my hand.
I looked down at the gold band and felt a wave of embarrassment. “It won’t come off. I’m going to have to see a jeweler when I get home and have it cut off or something.”
“Serves you right for talking an innocent man into?—”
“Innocent?” I cut him off. “Talking you into it? Are you kidding? As I recall?—”
Way held up his hands in surrender as his eyes crinkled with humor. “Woah, woah. I see we’re feeling a little sensitive about the situation. My bad.”
He was even more stunning when he smiled. I couldn’t help but stare. “You were there, too,” I said petulantly.
He stopped in front of an old Dodge truck I assumed was his and studied me, the smile still visible in his eyes. “I was. But I still can’t quite figure out how—Mr. Jenks! Nice to see you, sir.”
Way’s face transformed from teasing to an “aw-shucks” friendliness as he greeted an older man getting out of a truck that looked even worse than the Dodge.
“Mayor,” the man said, holding out his hand for a shake. “Just the man I was hoping to see.”
When they finished the shake, Way crossed his arms in front of his chest and leaned a hip against his truck hood. “What can I help you with?”
“Georgie Pollner over near Fenton is looking for some trail-riding stock for a group she has coming in next month. I told her to give you a call.”
Way’s shoulders stiffened almost imperceptibly. “Alright. Appreciate the referral. I can probably find her something, depending on how many head.”
The man smiled and nodded. “I told her you’d fix her right up. Said you’re the one to come to for it.” His eyes flicked to me and back to Way curiously. “Well, I guess I’ll let you get on with your day. Tell Sheridan I’ve got new chicks hatching if she wants any.”
Way tilted his chin down. “Appreciate it. Tell Mrs. Jenks I said hi.”
Once the man had wandered off, Way turned to me. “It’s a bit of a walk to the cafe. You want to take my truck instead?”
I glanced at the vehicle behind him and low-key wondered if that parking spot might end up becoming its final resting place. “I’m up for a walk if you are. Drove my rental all the way from Billings and have to turn around and do it again after lunch. Would be good to stretch my legs.”
Way gestured down the main drag that I belatedly remembered was called Poke Street. We barely made it to the first in a row of shops before he was stopped again, this time by an attractive man in his late thirties or early forties. “Way, there you are. I tried calling Bernice, but it went to voicemail.”
“Hey, Jackson. I was just headed to lunch at the cafe.” This seemed to be Way’s version of attempting to dismiss the man, but it was too nice to work.
“I’ll walk with you. I wanted to ask about setting up a mini shop during the AdventureSmash exhibition. Something closer to the racers and spectators that offered basic equipment and local merch. Would that be allowed?”
Way pursed his lips in thought. “Depends on the location, I guess. The event team is coming in next week to finalize some of those details. Maybe I can get you in on that meeting since you’re a sponsor.”
The man’s face lit up. “That would be perfect. I’ll tell Lake. Thanks, man.” He clapped Way on the shoulder before splitting off from us. “Enjoy your lunch, and thanks again.”
We walked a little further down the street. “You’re a popular guy,” I said after a few more people called out greetings or shot Way a wave or smile.
“Mayor. Comes with the territory.”
“You lived here long?”
He huffed out a laugh. “My whole life. My dad’s from here. His dad before him, and his dad before him. The Fletchers have been in Majestic since…” He shrugged. “Since forever, I guess.”
“Was your dad the mayor before you?”
He shook his head, all trace of the friendly grin gone. “Nah. He was just a horse rancher.”
I noticed his use of past tense. “He retired or…?”
“Passed.” He cleared his throat and waved to another person across the street. “Been eight years now.”
“I’m sorry. Who runs the ranch now?”
He laughed again, only this time, it carried no humor. “Me.”
I stared at the side of his head. “But you’re the mayor. Surely that’s… I mean, I’ve always assumed being a rancher is a full-time thing.”
He nodded. “More than full-time. Morning feed’s at five thirty. I usually do what needs doing until eight and then come into the office and do my job in town until around four. Then back out to the ranch for the second feed and any herd movement that’s needed.” He shrugged. “Never ends, really.”
“How many people work for you?”
He glanced at me. “Uh, none? I mean, I’ve got three siblings. My two sisters help out for sure. Our brother’s in the military, so he’s not around. Sheridan manages the cafe we’re going to—her husband’s the chef—and my baby sister, ZuZu, does some of the horse training, but she also has a pottery studio here in town.”
“Jesus,” I muttered. “How big’s the ranch?”
He opened his mouth to respond but then stopped. Before I could repeat the question, an older woman stepped out of a shop in front of us and accosted him.
“Well, hey there, Mayor Fletcher!” The woman beamed. “I was hoping to run into you at some point. Listen, my niece Marlee—you remember Marlee? She’s Jimmy’s oldest and smart as a whip. Did some hunter-jumper in high school, so she knows her way around a horse, believe you me—well, she’s coming up for a visit from Phoenix for July Fourth weekend. Now, I know you have the exhibition and all, but I was thinking about having you over to say a quick hello, maybe for Sunday brunch? What do you say?”
“Oh, er… uh…” Way swallowed and adjusted the hat on his head. He looked kind of adorable when he was put on the spot. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to commit to anything that weekend since I’ll be busy with the exhibition and all. But thank you for the?—”
She squeezed his arm, her grin never faltering. “I’ll leave you as a ‘probably.’ See you then!” She bundled off toward an SUV parked at an angle to the sidewalk a few spaces away from where we stood.
Way settled his hat on his head again with a sigh before walking on.
I let him get a few more steps down the sidewalk before I started teasing him. “I can’t believe the nerve of that woman threatening to set you up right in front of me.”
He looked at me with an expression of surprise. “What?”
I lifted my hands in an exaggerated shrug. “What am I, chopped mush? I’m your legal spouse, for god’s sake, and she just?—”
He clapped a hand over my mouth and yanked me down a side street before shoving me behind the shops into a narrow alley. “Will you shut up? This town has ears, in case you didn’t know.”
I let out a laugh. “Relax. No one heard me.”
His nostrils flared. “I can’t relax. I can’t ever fucking relax, not when everyone and their fucking…” He exhaled in a rush and reached for his hat again, lifting it and resettling it in a nervous gesture. “Never mind.”
I reached forward and grabbed his hands to keep them off his hat. “Hey. Hey . I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I was just trying to?—”
“Nobody can find out about you and me,” he growled. “I mean it, Silas.”
“I get it. You already said as much. Don’t be an ass.”
“I’m not… it’s not… it’s not because of the gay thing.”
I wanted to pick a fight with him. Suddenly, I was feeling some kind of way, and I wondered if maybe fighting with him would help keep me from grabbing and kissing the fuck out of him just to distract him from his stress for one solid minute.
“Feels a little like it’s because of the gay thing ,” I said, meaning it as a joke. Or maybe I didn’t. I wasn’t quite sure, but it annoyed me all the same. “You’re not gay, right? Makes sense that you wouldn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea.”
“That’s not why I don’t want anyone to know,” he gritted out.
I let go of his shoulders and stepped back. “Fine.”
He stepped closer and glared at me. “I’m not homophobic. I wouldn’t care if anyone thought I was gay. I told you, my best friend is gay.”
I wondered if his best friend had been the sexy sheriff, the one whose arm I’d wanted to rip off earlier. “You can have a gay best friend and still be homophobic,” I pointed out. “You could be gay yourself and still be homophobic.”
He stepped closer, his eyes flicking down to my lips. “Fine. But I’m not.”
I licked my lips without thinking. His eyes flared as he glanced from the movement to my eyes. Time tripped and slowed. I wanted to challenge him, to murmur prove it , but I kept my mouth shut. I wouldn’t complicate things between us. I wouldn’t be the reason he got found out here among everyone he held dear.
“Okay,” I breathed.
“I kissed you that night,” he hissed, eyes flicking down at my lips again before his scowl deepened.
“I remember.” My voice came out as a low rumble. My heart skipped too fast in my chest. Holding myself back from tasting his lips was damned near impossible. I wanted him more than ever. Maybe it was because I couldn’t have him—not here in this town. Or maybe it was because my tongue seemed to choose that moment to remember exactly how sweet he’d tasted.
I held my breath and closed my eyes. Maybe if I couldn’t see the thick, wavy blond hair curling out from under the brim of the hat, or the little patches of scattered, faded freckles under each eye, or the microscopic scar bisecting his lower lip… Maybe if I couldn’t see them, I’d stop wanting him.
“You were drunk,” I offered softly, giving him an easy out.
“It wasn’t… it wasn’t the alcohol,” he said, although he didn’t sound so sure.
I opened my eyes. “Wasn’t it?”
He took another step closer until our bodies were pressed together, stomach and chest. I didn’t dare move, didn’t dare pull his hips closer so I could feel more of him. Instead, I stayed frozen, only moving my eyes left and right to see if anyone was around to witness this.
We were alone in the alley.
“No,” he whispered, eyes firmly locked on my mouth now.
Prove it , I thought again in desperation. Please, god.
His hands came up and grabbed my face before he leaned in and kissed me hard. It wasn’t a tentative, testing kind of kiss, the kind that wondered whether Saturday night had just been a drunken Vegas mistake. No. This was a confident, crushing kiss, one that set out to make a point.
To devastate.
I made a surprised sound in my throat before grabbing his hips and yanking him closer. I’d thought of him over and over for the past forty-eight hours, and in the dark hours of the night before, this had been the way I’d imagined him.
Way’s tongue joined mine, and more memories from the other night flooded in. His confidence. His magnetism. His strength. The soft, tender touch of his lips and the downright bossy way he’d shoved a muscular thigh between my legs.
Oh fuck. This was… this was…
I grabbed at his clothes, keeping him from pulling away, but he didn’t even try. His thick fingers were in the back of my hair, the brim of his hat dug into the side of my head. I grabbed it off his head and held it against his back the way I had on the dance floor.
Something about the movement surprised him, and he pulled back with a gasp. His eyes were wide with shock but a little glassy with lust, too.
“Fuck,” he said, looking around frantically before landing his gaze back on me. “ Fuck .”