Chapter 18

EIGHTEEN

SILAS

I forced myself to focus on work until Way came back from his ranch chores, but it was hard to be productive when I was so annoyed. Annoyed with Way for making it so difficult to help him. Annoyed with myself for being annoyed because while I might have been married to the man on paper , in reality, he was a guy I'd known for little over a week, and if he wanted to work himself into the ground, that was his own fucking business.

It took a good hour for my anger to burn off and simmer low enough for me to think it through more clearly. Waylon Fletcher was used to being in charge. As the oldest sibling and current mayor of Majestic, his role was to be the leader and take on all the duties. The man clearly didn't know how to delegate, but at this point, I definitely couldn't be the one to point it out to him.

Even though I wanted to very badly.

When the sound of his old truck sputtered to a stop outside, I closed my email and put my laptop away. I'd already spent time clearing my own clutter and trying to take up less of Way's space than before, in case some of his unhappiness had come from my sudden infiltration of his sanctuary.

When he came through the door, he was filthy and sweaty as usual. And as usual, my dick instantly hardened at the sight.

"Hi," I said.

His eyes glanced everywhere but at mine. "Hey."

"You need help washing off all that dirt?"

This time, his eyes snapped to mine, surprised but already heated. "Maybe so."

I tilted my head toward the bathroom and that damned magical shower we'd already shared countless times. "Get in there, then."

Things were awkward as I started the water and began to pull off my clothes. I tried not to stare at every inch of the body he uncovered, but it was impossible to keep my eyes off those hard-earned muscles. Even with the comical tan lines, he was gorgeous, from the sweaty hat band mark in his hair to the long feet he pulled out of dusty boots.

"You're awfully quiet," he said when he finally stepped closer. I reached out a hand to pull him into the shower and under the water.

He groaned as soon as the spray hit, and the sound echoed deep in my gut. I gave him about twenty seconds to appreciate the refreshing rinse before stepping into his personal space and wrapping my arms around him.

"I really am sorry," I murmured against his ear. "For interfering without asking."

While Bash had been wrong about me having serious feelings for Way—what we had was purely physical, as I'd told my friends—I did care about him as a human being. He deserved not to be railroaded by a practical stranger, and I had a tendency to take over. It was one of the reasons I was so successful in business. And also one of the reasons I wasn't always successful in my personal relationships.

Besides which, I was starting to see that he'd been right earlier. I might be able to ease some of Way's burdens temporarily, but what he truly needed was to make some permanent changes. And I wasn't going to be here long enough to become part of those changes.

Way let out a breath. "No, I'm sorry for bitching at you—twice—when you only had good intentions."

We stood together under the water for a few more beats before he reluctantly admitted, "I'm not used to accepting help."

I let out a laugh and pulled back to meet his eyes. "You don't say."

He grinned and shoved me away from him before turning his back on me to face the hot spray. His ass was moon-pale and rounded with muscle. I wanted to fuck him so badly, but so far, our mutual orgasms had been limited to frantic frotting and sloppy blowjobs.

I pressed up against his back and wrapped my arms around him, running my hands across his abdomen and chest and pressing my cock against one of his plump ass cheeks.

His low groan filled the shower, making my dick even harder. I pressed it against him and reached for the soap to slick up his cock. Even though I wanted nothing more than to fuck him or even be fucked by him, I was perfectly happy rubbing off on him right now. My desire for him was too hot and desperate to stop and think about the optimal way to take him.

Instead, I worked as quickly as possible to get us both off, stroking him with one hand and myself with the other, periodically allowing myself a quick fuck in the shallow crevice at the top of his ass crack until my release came storming over me and shot long and sticky across his lower back.

He gasped and sputtered in the shower spray as his own orgasm hit, throwing his hands out to support himself against the wall.

I was beginning to think this shower was the key to my future happiness.

We both stood gasping for a few moments as the water rinsed the evidence of our desperate session from his skin.

Without turning around, Way straightened up and put his hands over mine on his chest. "Come with me to Three Daughters tomorrow?"

One side of my mouth twitched up. "I thought we'd already agreed that I was coming. I bought boots."

Way turned in my arms. Instead of the teasing grin I expected or the flushed relaxation postorgasm, he looked serious. "No, that was me agreeing—not very nicely—to let you come. This is me asking. Please, Silas."

I pressed a kiss to his lips. "If you want me, I'll be there."

I could tell from the tension in his body that this wasn't just a regular hike or an item to check off his to-do list, but the story didn't come until the next day when we were half a mile down a dirt path at the base of Three Daughters. We'd been hiking in silence for several minutes, so his voice took me by surprise.

"My dad died out here alone."

I glanced over at him, but he kept his face forward as he continued speaking.

"He was one of those ‘do as I say, not as I do' guys, you know? Told us not to drink and drive but said he could handle a few drinks before getting behind the wheel. Wouldn't let us go swimming in the river alone but didn't hesitate to go in himself at the end of a hot day." Way took a moment to suck in a deep breath and let it out. "It was the last weekend of the hunting season, and he still hadn't gotten his deer quota. Normally, I would have been with him, mostly to keep him out of trouble since he was known to drink while hunting, but I was in school down in Laramie."

I didn't want to do or say anything to stop his story, so I stayed quiet and simply listened.

"The girls hate hunting. So do I, but I also recognized it was necessary to our grocery budget. My mom had explained it to me early on and encouraged me to keep Dad company and help make sure we got enough food to put up for the year." He'd left his cowboy hat at home and had replaced it with a ball cap, but he still pulled it off and settled it again with the same nervous gesture. "I'd gone out with him the week before, when I was home over Thanksgiving, but we didn't have any luck. Bad weather and… I don't even remember now. So the next weekend, after I was back at school, he went out again—alone this time, even though he knew better."

"What about your brother? Was he still home?"

"Nope. Wynn was away at a piano thing. Aunt Blake had taken him and our cousin Anna to Billings for some concert that day. He felt awful afterward, like he should have given that up to make sure Dad had someone to go with."

"That's not fair," I said.

"No. But Wynn was too young to understand that."

I glanced over at Way again, but he was still focused on the trail ahead. "What happened to your dad? A hunting accident?"

He shook his head. "Froze to death. When he didn't come home that night, Mom called the authorities, and they put together a search party for the next day. Found him in the deer blind along with an empty bottle of scotch." He cleared his throat. "His blood alcohol was so high they think he passed out from drinking and didn't realize night was falling and the temperature along with it. He obviously hadn't planned to be out overnight since he hadn't taken any gear for it."

"I'm sorry," I murmured.

Way let out a frustrated sigh. "Yeah, same. I'm sorry he made such a piss-poor parent. I'm sorry he set himself up for a horrific death after worrying my mother out of her mind. I'm sorry he'd run the damned ranch into the ground. And I'm sorry…" He snapped his jaw shut and shook his head. "I'm sorry I'm not more sorry he's gone."

I wanted to grab him and hold him, squeeze him tightly enough to convince him someone cared about him, but I got the feeling touching him just then might have resulted in a quick uppercut to my chin.

Instead, I continued walking and gave him time.

"It haunts us all," Way admitted softly after a few minutes. "My mother couldn't handle staying here. Sheridan felt like she needed to take over as the positivity patrol. Wynn's guilt drove him into the army. ZuZu feels disconnected from the rest of us because she hardly remembers him. And Foster has spent every spare minute of the past eight years trying to improve and perfect our Search and Rescue program to prevent anyone else from a similar experience—not that SaR would have helped in my family's case. Dad wasn't lost. Just stupid." He huffed out a breath and corrected himself. "That's not fair. Addiction is complicated. Maybe I shouldn't continue to carry so much resentment, but I do anyway."

This explained so much.

So much about his need to be in charge, to take care of everything for his family.

So much about never wanting to rely on anyone else.

He was trying to be the man, the leader, his father wasn't.

"Tell me more about how you ended up mayor," I said, hoping the slight change of subject would ease the stress tightening his entire body.

He let out a soft, humorless laugh. "When Dad died, I'd quit school to move back home and take care of everything. The kids, the ranch, the debt. Three years later, the mayor suddenly absconded with eight million dollars of Majestic's municipal funds. It was shocking. Dwight Erikson had been the mayor for eighteen years by then. He'd grown up in Majestic and knew everyone. The man was a volunteer at the church, a Scout leader, and the kind of neighbor who shoveled old Mrs. Winshaw's drive and walkway when her son couldn't do it."

We came to a small creek that crossed the trail, and Way immediately reached back for my hand, as if stomping through an inch of water was likely to confound or endanger me.

I took his hand without arguing and allowed him to pull me across the shallow water before he continued his story.

He didn't release my hand.

"We still can't figure out what happened. He apparently took a singles cruise down to Mexico or something a few months before he left Majestic. So you can imagine the stories people concocted. Illicit affairs, gambling addiction, running afoul of a drug cartel… You name it, someone's suggested it. The FBI is on the case, but they're tight-lipped. And to be honest, I get the feeling they think the amount we lost isn't worth much of their resources. They did confirm what Bernice and I figured out ourselves, which is that he'd been siphoning smaller amounts for the previous five years. So I don't think we can lay the blame completely on the cruise to Mexico."

"So you were, what… twenty-three?" I asked in surprise. "Why did they elect someone so young?"

Spots of sunlight danced across the trail in front of us as a light breeze ran through the trees. It was cool now that we were at a higher elevation, but the sun and our movement kept it warm enough for comfort. There had been several other cars at the trailhead, so we weren't the only ones taking advantage of the clear weather.

"Maybe everyone else was smart enough to say no," Way said, smiling as if it was a joke. I could tell it wasn't a laughing matter, though, by the way he pulled his hand out of mine and lifted his hat off before pulling it back on again. I missed the feel of his hand in mine, but there was something reassuring in being able to recognize his agitation.

"Why didn't you say no?"

He blew out a breath and glanced off the trail, leaving me with a view of the thick blond hair flicking out from the edge of his ball cap. "I wanted to fix it. Couldn't stand the idea that one lying asshole's dick move would cost the rest of us the town we'd lived in for so long. My family has been in Majestic for generations, and we're not the only ones. The idea of having to get rid of our librarian or our firefighters or any number of other essential elements of our community… it was untenable. So a group of the largest landowners got together to brainstorm in hopes of staving off bankruptcy. Each family agreed to loan as much as they could, only in my case, it couldn't be cash. The ranch was just coming out of the worst of its debt and definitely didn't have capital to loan."

"But you could give your time and effort," I suggested, finally understanding.

He nodded. "Foster did the same. He was a deputy at the time but also volunteered to work with no pay since he's a partial owner in the Love Muffin and was still living at home with his mom at the time. Jenks Dairy, the Godfrey family holdings, which includes a couple oil wells, and Duke Stanner's construction company all loaned the town enough to cover the biggest commitments. We negotiated some of the other stuff into better terms." He shrugged. "We got through the worst of it those first two years, and now… if we can sign AdventureSmash to a big race next season, it'll finally put us back right."

"How much debt is left?" I asked before reminding myself it was none of my business.

"Three million. But we project the exhibition will take care of almost a third of it, between tax revenue and the resulting bump in tourist traffic we expect this summer, thanks to media coverage for the event."

Part of me wanted to donate the money. It was only three percent of what I earned each year from my investments, and I'd spent enough time in Majestic and with its leader to feel comfortable it would be well spent. Waylon was a hard worker. Dedicated and smart, too. He cared more about Majestic than his very own comfort.

But I also knew that if I was going to give anyone three million dollars, it should be my actual husband rather than, essentially, his employer. He and his family could do a lot of personal good with that money on the ranch and in their own individual business endeavors.

And there was my promise to the brotherhood to consider. Throwing around seven-figure sums of cash wasn't a great way to fly under the radar.

"What are your remaining pain points?" I asked, falling back into the familiar corporate strategy rhythm that had become second nature in the past decade.

As Way methodically laid out the areas of greatest concern, I did my best to make low-pressure suggestions, making sure to use real-life examples to justify each one.

Thankfully, Way listened without getting his back up, and we spent the next forty minutes discussing various municipal topics as well as the challenges remaining for the AdventureSmash exhibition. One way I could help mitigate the town's debt was by quietly securing a few additional corporate sponsorships, something I'd already asked Kenji to work on.

I'd also texted Kenji to find out if he could lure an experienced rock climber out here on short notice to help vet the rock climbing routes AdventureSmash planned on using during the exhibition. While I knew Way wanted me to stop interfering, that didn't mean I couldn't have solutions on hand when they were needed. As long as I didn't push them on him, surely he wouldn't argue against having a problem solved without additional effort on his part.

As we cut across another stream, this time hopping from flat rock to flat rock to cross the wider expanse of running water, Way glanced back at me with an unexpected smile on his face. "Thanks for talking this out with me. Maybe I was premature when I asked you to stop helping. Seems like you know a few things."

I couldn't help but snort. "A few."

When I took the final jump to land on the dry bank next to him, he stopped me with his hands on my shoulders. "I'm sorry."

I stepped closer and put my hands on his hips. Any excuse to touch him. "You already apologized, remember? We took an apology shower yesterday."

Heat flooded his cheeks. "I seem to recall some kind of shower…"

I moved one hand up to trace the pink blush. "You're not familiar with the apology shower?" I murmured, moving even closer. His hands moved over my shoulders and around my back.

"Mm… not sure. Remind me what's involved…"

I leaned in and kissed him lightly on the apple of his cheek. The faint taste of sunscreen lingered on his skin. I moved over to take his earlobe between my teeth. "Perhaps I need to do something bad again so we can work toward another apology shower."

The garbled noise in his throat made my dick fill.

I moved my hand to his ass and pulled him against me. "Way, fuck . There is never a moment when I don't want to get you naked and run my mouth along every inch of you."

The sound of chatter behind us on the trail broke the moment, causing us to pull apart. I rubbed my face in both hands, trying to shake off the lust fog.

"Save those thoughts for later?" Way murmured with a smile in his voice.

I groaned and grabbed his hand before continuing along the trail. The mood was lighter as we teased each other about being such stereotypical newlyweds, at least in one respect.

We couldn't keep our hands off each other.

He smirked at me from under the bill of his cap. "If I'd known marriage was all it would take to get this many orgasms…"

"Marriage to a man, Waylon Fletcher. Don't forget that critical detail."

"I see."

Something had been inching its way into my mind recently, and I decided now was the time to ask about it. "Do you think after this you'll… I mean…" I couldn't think how to ask this question without sounding ridiculous and needy.

Way quirked an eyebrow. "It's not like you to trip over your words, Silas."

"Do you think you'll date men?" I blurted. "After us, I mean. After we… After the divorce." I clamped my mouth shut. The only thing worse than the invasive question was the stupid post-question babble.

But instead of laughing at me, Way took a minute to consider it.

And then another minute.

I watched his jaw work as he thought, like he was angry, not confused, and I rushed to apologize. "Nope. Never mind. That is absolutely none of my business?—"

"Huh?" Way blinked. "Oh. No. I'm not upset with you for asking. I was just thinking about my answer, and my instinctive reaction kinda surprised me. I was thinking?—"

The sound of a woman's bright laughter cut him off. "This is the most fun ever! On rappel !"

Way's entire face changed in recognition of the voice as he sped up to where the trail curved through the trees. "Eden!"

When we turned the corner, the trail opened into a wide, flat area at the base of a giant rock face. A petite woman was flying down the rock on a set of ropes, kicking at the granite surface every few feet like air hops.

When she reached the ground, she called, "Way!" and shot him a huge grin over her shoulder as she unhooked herself from the ropes and thanked a woman who'd stepped up to help her. Both women were fit and dressed in climbing gear with helmets and harnesses. The one with the big smile pulled her helmet off and dropped it lightly on a pack of gear before approaching.

She was tiny and strong, and lean, cut muscles in her shoulders, arms, and legs were shown off perfectly by her running tights and thin, long-sleeved athletic top. Her hair was golden honey-colored with whiter highlights, most likely from the sun instead of a salon visit. The wind had whipped little wisps of it around the edges of her hairline, but the rest of it remained in a loose braid to her shoulder blades. Her eyes were the same blue as the big Wyoming sky, and I stood transfixed as they sparkled for my husband as she dove into his arms.

I suddenly realized why the entire town of Majestic had wanted these two beautiful humans to get together.

They were fucking Barbie and Ken. Mr. and Mrs. Perfect Blond Beauties.

And I immediately hated her with every fiber of my being.