Accidentally Married on Purpose (10 page)

She knew exactly how she’d feel—madder than hell. Talent and performance should be the only thing that mattered, and it sucked that wasn’t the case for Tyler.

But what he’s proposing…

Sherry frowned as she flicked her blinker and eyed the rearview mirror.

This was a classic no-win situation. Tyler needed to be
in
a relationship to achieve his goals—and Sherry needed out. Marriage put a major cramp in her plot to make Will Trahan, AKA Mr. Boring, hers. But what could she do? Her
oopsident
was already out there. A reporter had come to her door, and more would soon follow. If Sherry told them the truth, that her wedding hadn’t been planned—that it was just some drunken fluke—she’d only confirm what her entire town already believed. She was a relationship disaster. Only this time, it wouldn’t simply be Magnolia Springs pitying her. It would be the whole world.

Lord alive, she could hear the late-night monologues now.

Strangers in the supermarket would cast sad looks behind her back. And it wouldn’t even matter if the truth came out or not. Divorcing quickly, as she’d originally planned, would be just as damaging as admitting it.

At least if they did what Tyler was suggesting, and stayed married for a year or two, she’d be slightly less pathetic. And after a respectable grieving time, she could get back to the main plan.

Sherry fiddled with the A/C vent and peeked at him from the corner of her eye. Clearing her throat, she said, “Okay, now I have a proposition.” Tyler’s head turned toward her. “If I did this, and that’s a huge
if
, I’d need something out of it, too. And I’m not talking about your money or your name.”

“Anything.” He rested his back fully against the doorframe and held his palms up. “Anything you want is yours.”

Sherry nibbled her bottom lip. She couldn’t
believe
she was about to say this aloud. “I want the fairy tale.” His eyebrows drew together, and she focused on the road. If she looked at him when she said this, she’d never get through it. “See, before you and that ginormous belt buckle waltzed into my life, I had a plan. I was gonna find myself a safe, dependable,
normal
guy. You were supposed to be my stolen weekend. But since we’ve found ourselves in this predicament, maybe we can make the best of it. Maybe before I accept the life of Mrs. McDull, or become some tabloid-like footnote on your Wikipedia page, I can experience the HEA.”

Tyler hesitated. “The H-E-what-a?”

“Happily ever after.” Heat spread across her chest, and she was positive she resembled a strawberry. But what did she have to lose? “You said we needed to make this look legit, right? I’m only suggesting we do a
really
good job of that. When we’re out in the world, doing our thing, I want us to look like we’re totally in love. For once, I want to feel what it’s like to be wooed and swept off my feet. To be adored and appreciated. Just for show,” she quickly added before he got any ideas. “Clearly we have different life goals, so this will be make-believe. A masquerade. A small taste of the fantasy.”

The more the new plan took shape in her mind, the more Sherry loved it. Fairy tales may not exist for her, but for a short while, she could manufacture one. What made it even better was that she’d be in control of the situation from the beginning. There’d be no danger of falling. For the first time in her life, she could enter a relationship knowing her heart would be safe.

“So, you’re saying you want me to court you.” Tyler’s handsome face grew thoughtful, as if he was honestly considering her suggestion. A streak of hope shot through her.

“Pretend court,” she clarified. “And yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.” The light turned red in front of her, and she glanced at him after coming to a stop. “Tyler, I heard what you said about your career, but you gotta understand. This isn’t just damage control for
you
. My reputation is on the line, too. Either I can become the laughingstock of Magnolia Springs, or I can run with the hand I’ve been given and make lemon squares.” His lips quirked at the mixed metaphor, and she grinned. “Let’s sell this thing.”

Tyler stared at her for what felt like forever, not saying a word. Her throat began to close. Maybe she’d been wrong. Maybe he
wasn’t
considering her offer, but instead thinking she was a sad, lonely woman in need of intense therapy.

The car behind her honked, indicating the light had changed. She released the breath she’d been holding, her hopes plummeting to her shoes. It’d been worth a shot. She turned to face the road again and saw him nod slowly out of the corner of her eye. “That’s the least I can do.”

“Really?” she asked, ignoring the man now laying on his horn. Tyler nodded, and relief washed over her as fresh air refilled her lungs. “Awesome.”

A smile broke across her face as she accelerated through the intersection. This was more like it. This she could enjoy. A weekend had been great, but she’d be lying if she said she was ready for it to end. That she didn’t want a bit more adventure in her life before she gave it all up. She enjoyed spending time with him, and as long as she kept a good head on her shoulders, this could end up being even better than her original plan.

She smiled. “Of course, we do need to have a few ground rules.”

…

“Ground rules?” Tyler repeated.

Damn, that sounded complicated. Arianne loved rules. So did his manager, his agent, and the label. Everyone wanted a piece of him, wanted to control him and tell him how he should act. But Sherry was different. Rigid rules were as out of place with her as the straitlaced dress she had on—not that he was complaining. During the drive, the thin scrap of fabric had ridden up her lap, exposing the tan skin of her upper thigh.

Definite benefits of their situation firmly in mind, he lifted his gaze to her profile. “What kind of rules are we talking about?”

A black-painted fingernail tapped against the wheel. “Well, for starters, we need to decide how this is gonna end. What reason will we give for our eventual demise? Because I gotta tell ya, if it’s anything embarrassing or tarnishing to either of us, then I’m out right now.”

Hmm. That was a solid point. Honestly, he hadn’t considered that far ahead. Getting her to agree at all had been his only priority.

“That makes sense.” Tyler pushed back in his seat, trying his damnedest to get comfortable in the tin box she drove. “How about this. After the month is over, I have to leave anyway. There’s a media circus for the new album and then Blue has a tour in the summer. That’s how it always is. I’d imagine a few years of life like that would make any marriage difficult.”

Actually, he didn’t even have to imagine—Tyler knew it for a fact. His world made relationships impossible. It was the sole reason his dad had stopped playing.

He shoved aside the sudden weight on his chest. “So, when the time comes, we can file irreconcilable differences and cite my busy schedule as what kept us apart.” He glanced at her. “It’d even be the truth, in a way.”

What appeared to be sympathy washed over her face as her gaze slid over him. What she was searching for, he didn’t know. Tyler loved his life and was happy with it just as it was. After a beat, she turned back to the road.

“I guess that works,” she said. “It doesn’t cast either of us in a bad light. It’ll be mutual.”

“Exactly.” Shifting onto his thigh, trying one last time to stretch his legs in the cramped floor space, he asked, “So was that a rule?”

“No,
that
was our deal breaker.”

She fell silent as an eighteen-wheeler sped up on her left, creeping too close to the driver side. The trucker made a hard cut in front of them to beat the light before the bridge, and Sherry’s knuckles turned white from gripping the wheel. A string of curses went through Tyler’s head as he glared at the fading license plate.

Lying about his identity to sweet southern women was one thing, but cussing in front of one was another. His mama had taught him right.

“Asshat.”

Sherry lifted her middle finger at the windshield, and Tyler shook his head, chuckling under his breath. This
particular
southern woman kept him on his toes.

“Anyhoo, rules.” She leaned back in her seat and sent him a look. “They’re for how we’re supposed to act around each other the next thirty days. Expectations for how this is supposed to go, what we have to do, our limits…”

“Limits?” The amused smile fell from his face. That didn’t sound promising. “Like what?”

“Like, for starters, no one can know the truth about us. Other than that fancy team of yours,” she amended with a twist of her mouth. The light turned green and she accelerated through the intersection, merging into line for the Lake Pontchartrain Causeway Bridge. “I assume
they
know, but no one else. Not even family.”

She paused to let a car in front of her, anxiety tightening her normally animated features. “Look, I don’t know how close you are to your family, but I’m really tight with mine. I don’t want them worrying about me. It’ll be tough enough keeping this straight between the two of us. Let’s not involve anyone else in our madness, okay?”

That, right there, revealed so much about the woman he’d accidentally married. Stuff Tyler already knew, but it was nice to have confirmed. Sherry was genuine. She cared about other people, maybe even more than she cared about herself. In his world, that was rare.

“Fine with me.” Unfortunately, Tyler didn’t talk with his parents nearly as much as he should, but when he did, they discussed way more important things than his screwed-up love life. “And yeah, my staff knows. So does my bass player, Charlie. But they won’t say anything. They want this staying quiet as much as we do.”

A soft smile eased her anxiety as she exhaled aloud. “That’s a relief.”

She looked so relieved, in fact, that he hesitated to ask his next question. But he was too damn curious not to. “Is there a second rule?”

When the smile dropped, and she squirmed in response, Tyler cursed his curiosity.

“Actually, yes.” Messing with the rearview mirror, she sat up tall and cleared her throat. “Well, first, we agreed on the fairy tale in public, right?” She glanced at him for approval and he nodded. “That should be a rule, too. Whenever we’re outside, out in the world, we pretend to be in love.”

“Okay,” he said slowly, watching her fluff her hair. A low hum emanated from her throat. Sherry’s energy was always a bit manic, but this was extreme even for her. Which meant whatever she had cooking up in that brain of hers was sure to spell S-U-C-K for him.

“But, I think if we do that, then it’d be only natural for that kind of, um, tension to seep into our private time…you know, when we’re
alone.
And that would just be asking for trouble.” Her gaze skittered to his and quickly away. “So I think the third rule should be no romance. When it’s just us, no mixing of business and pleasure. It’d only complicate things.”

Tyler shrugged. Despite the songs he wrote, he wasn’t exactly the “hearts and flowers” type of guy. Sure, it sold records. That and the fairy-tale crap she mentioned earlier. But he was a man. This rule was no skin off his nose.

Then she cleared her throat again.

“Which leads to the fourth rule…no more sex.”

Only when she said it, it came out more like, “
nomoresex.
”

His mouth fell open. A row of straight teeth clamped down on her full bottom lip as she looked at him, then away, and back again. “I know what you’re thinking,” she said with a grimace. “Been there, bought the T-shirt, so what’s the big deal, right? But see, that’s the thing. I don’t
do
casual sex. Not normally at least. Our weekend was a first for me, and the only reason I escaped with my heart intact was because it was
just
for the holiday. But an entire month?
Years
together?” She shook her head and swallowed hard. “I can’t do that, Ty. Not if I want to walk away from you unscathed.”

Tyler was a man of no words. Their mutual attraction was a living, breathing, separate entity inside this shoebox car, and Sherry wanted to pretend it away. Ignore that it existed.

“You’re serious?”

Those teeth worked her bottom lip so hard he expected to see blood. “I realize you probably have certain, uh,
urges
.” Wincing, she flushed a light shade of pink and shook her head. “Good God, I feel twelve again. Why the hell am I sweating?” She raised an open palm to each cheek and left it on her forehead. “Look, I’m no nun, and I ain’t saying this is gonna be easy, for
either
of us. Once you go out on the road, I-I guess as long as you’re discreet, I can’t say sh—” That opened palm came down to smack her mouth, and she squeezed her eyes shut for a second. Focusing back on the road, she said, “I’m sorry, I just…I can’t…”

Tyler huffed a sigh. “Sugar, despite what you think, I’m not the himbo of country music. I don’t do mindless, casual sex, either.” He scrubbed a hand over his face, saying farewell to those benefits he’d imagined earlier. “Not anymore.”

Back when he was young and stupid, and before Blue made it big, he’d indulged a few times. Okay, more than a few, but still less than most. Even then, though, it’d been empty. Those women barely knew his first name. The only thing that mattered was who he was, what he did, and where he was going. It hadn’t taken long to grow old.

Unfortunately, that didn’t leave him with many options.
Meaningless
didn’t work and
casual
was all he could offer. Sherry had been his solution. Until her damn rules came into play.