The Rancher's Baby. Maisey Yates
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heard through that reliable Royal grapevine that he and Will had remained friends. It made her wonder why Rich wasn’t here.
Rich had been part of their group of friends, though he had always been somewhat on the periphery, and he had been...strange, as far as Selena was concerned. He had liked Will, so much that it had been concerning. And when Will had married Selena, Rich’s interest had wandered onto her.
He had never done anything terribly inappropriate, but the increased attention from him had made her uneasy.
But then... Well, he had been in their apartment one night when she’d gotten home from class. He’d produced evidence that Will was after her trust fund—the trust fund that had led to their marriage in the first place. And she needed that money. She needed it so she would never be at her father’s mercy again. The trust fund had been everything to her, and Will had said he was marrying her just to help her. She’d trusted him.
Rich had been full of some weird, intense energy Selena hadn’t been able to place at the time. Now that she had some distance and a more adult understanding, she felt like maybe Rich had been attracted to her. But more than a simple attraction...he’d been obsessed with Will. It almost seemed, in hindsight, as if he’d been attracted to her because he thought Will had her.
And what Rich had said that night... Well, it had just been a lot easier to believe than Will’s claim that he wanted to help her because they were friends. Trust had never been easy for her. Will was kind, and that was something she’d wanted. Not because she was attracted to him, but because she had genuinely wanted him to be a real friend. After a life of being thoroughly mistreated by her father, hoping for true friendship was scary.
Selena had spent most of her childhood bracing herself for the punch. Whether emotional or physical. It was much easier to believe she was being tricked than to believe Will was everything he appeared to be.
She and Will had fought. And then they had barely limped to the finish line of the marriage. They’d waited until the money was in her account, and then they’d divorced.
And their friendship had never been the same.
She had never apologized to him. Grief and regret stabbed her before she remembered—Will wasn’t actually dead.
That means you can apologize to him. It means you can fix your friendship.
She needed to. The woman she was now would never have jumped to a conclusion like that, at least not without trying to get to the bottom of it.
But back then, Selena had been half-feral. Honed into a sharp, mean creature from years of being in survival mode.
The way Knox had stuck by her all these years, the kind of friendship he had demonstrated... It had been a huge part of her learning to trust. Learning to believe men could actually be good.
Her ability to trust hadn’t changed her stance on love and marriage. And she fought against any encroaching thoughts that conflicted with that stance.
It didn’t really matter that Knox sometimes made her think differently about love and marriage. He had married someone else. And she had married someone else. She had married someone else first, in point of fact. It was just that...
It didn’t matter.
“I know this dredges up a lot of ancient history,” Knox said, turning the car off the highway and onto the narrow two-lane road that would take them out to her new cabin. Now that she had the freedom to work remotely most of the time—her skin-care company was so successful she’d hired other people to do the parts that consumed too much time—she had decided to get outside city limits.
Had decided it was time for her to actually make herself a home, instead of living in a holding pattern. Existing solely to build her empire, to increase her net worth.
Nothing had ever felt like home until this place. Everything after college had just been temporary. Before that, it had been a war zone.
This cabin was her refuge. And it was hers.
Nestled in the woods, surrounded by sweetgrass and trees, and a river running next to her front porch.
Of course, it wasn’t quite as grand as Knox’s spread in Jackson Hole, but then, very few places were.
Besides, grandness wasn’t the point. This cabin wasn’t for show. Wasn’t to impress anyone else. It was just to make her happy. And few things in her life had existed for that reason up to this point.
Having achieved some happiness made her long for other things, though. Things she was mostly inured against—like wanting someone to share her life with.
She gritted her teeth, looking resolutely away from Knox as that thought invaded her brain.
“Which is now a little bit annoying,” she pointed out. “He’s not even dead, and I had to go through all that grief, plus, you know...”
“Thinking about your marriage?”
She snapped her mouth shut, debating how to respond. It was true enough. She had been thinking a lot about her marriage. Not that it had been an actual, physical marriage. More like roommates with official paperwork. “Yes,” she said finally.
“Divorce is hell,” he said, his voice turning to gravel. “Believe me. I know.”
Guilt twisted her stomach. He thought they shared this common bond. The loss of a marriage. In reality, their situations weren’t even close to being the same.
“Will and I were only married for a year,” she commented. “It’s not really the same as you and Cassandra. The two of you were together for twelve years and...”
“I told you, I don’t want to talk about it.”
Blessedly, distraction came in the form of the left turn that took them off the paved road and onto the gravel road that took them to her cabin.
“Why don’t you get this paved?” he asked.
“I like it,” she said.
“Why?”
That was a complicated question, with a complicated answer. But he was her friend and she was glad to be off the topic of marriages, so she figured she would take a stab at it. “Because it’s nothing like the driveway that we had when I was growing up. Which was smooth and paved and circular, and led up to the most ridiculous brick monstrosity.”
“So this is like inverse nostalgia?”
“Yes.”
He lifted a shoulder. “I understand that better than you might think.”
He pulled up to the front of the cabin and she stayed resolutely in her seat until he rounded to her side and opened the door for her. Then she blinked, looking up into the sun, at the way his broad shoulders blotted it out. “What about my car?” she asked.
“I’m going to have someone bring it. Don’t worry.”
“I could go get it,” she said.
“I have a feeling it’s best if you lie low for a little bit.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Well,” he said. “Your ex-husband just came back from the dead, and both of you cause quite a bit of media interest. You were named as beneficiary of his estate along with four other women, and that’s a lot of money.”
“But Will isn’t dead, and I don’t care about his money. I have my own.”
“Very few people are going to believe that, Selena,” Knox said, his tone grave. “Most people don’t acknowledge the concept of having enough money. They only understand wanting more.”
“What are you saying? That I’m...in danger?”
“I don’t know. But we don’t know what’s going on with Will, and you were brought into this. You’re a target, for all we know. Someone is in an urn, and