Accidentally Married on Purpose (22 page)

“Something tells me you’re not wanting to discuss flowers, though,” his old man said, shooting him a wry look. “What’s on your mind?”

Tyler scrubbed a hand across his face and squeezed the back of his neck. Where to begin? “I guess I never realized you and Mom worried so much,” he said, giving the board in front of him a gentle kick. “You talked about my career like it’s empty. But you didn’t seem to feel that way a few years back.”

“Now, I didn’t say it was empty. It’s just that I know it can be lonely. Non-stop touring on the road can be isolating. That’s not the life your mother and I wanted for you.”

Tyler’s hand clenched around his neck. He’d never known his old man to lie, but…

“How can you say that?” he asked. “Dad, it was the lessons you paid for and the contacts you had that got me here. And hey, I’m grateful. Thanks to you, I’m living both our dreams, and I’m doing better than I ever imagined. That’s for damn sure. But I don’t get how you can stand here and say this isn’t what you wanted. This is
exactly
the life you pushed me toward.”

Awkward silence fell, and Tyler winced. He’d tried to contain it, but the words had just come out. Here he was busting his ass every day fulfilling a dream his father instilled in him, and the man acted as if he’d missed a memo. His dad made a rough sound in his throat, and releasing a breath, Tyler cracked his knuckles and faced his old man.

Blue eyes stared at him under bushy brows. “Son, you need to know I’m proud as hell of you. I saw that spark in you, the same spark I once had, and I encouraged it. I admit I never expected it to amount to all this”—he held out his hand—“but we’re thrilled you achieved your goals. That’s all I wanted, for you to succeed in a career that you obviously had a God-given gift for.” Tyler’s shoulders sagged a bit in relief, until his dad added, “But success can be fleeting. More than that, it can be lonely. That’s why I hoped you’d find the same happiness in life, in
marriage
, that I have.”

Grasping his ball cap, Tyler tugged it off and shoved his hand through his hair. He scratched the side of his jaw, twisted the cap around, and returned it to his head. But he couldn’t look his old man in the eyes.

“How…”

He squeezed his eyes shut and coughed. Could he actually ask him this? They’d always told each other anything. Total open-door policy. But even while everything inside Tyler screamed for an answer, would asking it gut his dad?

Opening his eyes, he saw his father’s mouth curved in a small, understanding smile. He nodded once, subtly, and Tyler said, “You still feel that way, even with Mom…?”

He didn’t need to finish the thought for his dad to understand.

“Absolutely,” he replied, voice filled with conviction. He put a hand on Tyler’s shoulder. “I never once felt like I missed out. Yeah, things got hard earlier than expected. We lived the sickness a lot more than the health. But she’s my sunshine. My angel. The undisputed love of my life. Earlier, you said you were living both of our dreams. And I still wonder now and then about Nashville, what would’ve happened had I gone like I planned. At one time, I wanted that almost more than anything in the world.”

Tyler caught the
almost
and swallowed hard.

Dad looked him straight in the eye. “That would’ve been a heck of a journey. You know I love me some music…but son, I love your mother more. A life with
her
was always my dream.”

Chapter Fifteen

Tyler laughed humorlessly and tossed his phone onto the bed. Ridiculous. One article turned his entire life upside down and, almost one month later, another one set it to rights. At least musically. Along with the Exclusive First Listen of Blue’s new album, Tammy Paxton sang Tyler’s praises today on the magazine website, not so subtly tooting her own horn. Being in love
did
make him a better writer, she claimed.

Singling out “Rain Dance” for its “vivid imagery of the early stages of love, when everything is new and beautiful and exciting as hell,” she’d gone on to say that their third album was the best to date, and credited Tyler’s recent marriage for the change. “Blue’s early work was full of fun and flirtation, but it lacked that vital core of truth. Now it has it in spades. We at
Country Music Weekly
congratulate Mr. and Mrs. Blue and wish them many years of happiness.”

Many years…or two days. That’s all they really had left.

Where in the hell did an entire month go? Just over three weeks ago, he’d woken up in his hotel room hungover and in the middle of what he thought was the worst mistake of his life. Now he couldn’t imagine anything worse than leaving. But he had to. He had a job waiting, an album to promote, and an agreement to keep. Despite what his dad had said, marriage wasn’t the goal for everyone.

At first, the old man’s words had rocked his belief system. How could Tyler have misread his father so badly? He hadn’t lost himself or given anything up. He’d married his dream. But that didn’t really change anything for Tyler. Music might not have been his dad’s dream, but it sure as hell was
his
. It’s all he’d ever known.

More than that, music was Tyler’s life, and it was no life for Sherry. She deserved more than months on the road, trapped on a tour bus and a different hotel every night. She had a new budding career of her own. The Humane Society and Hall of Fame events had generated tons of buzz, and a huge, soon-to-open bridal shop had already contacted her, wanting help planning their launch. Now wasn’t the time for her to leave.

Just as he couldn’t let marriage split his focus now, Tyler refused to get in the way of Sherry’s dream. Her goals.

And a relationship, much less a marriage, couldn’t survive if they were always apart.

Tyler slumped to Angelle’s bed, a hand scrubbing across his face. God, he was exhausted. He’d put it all out there musically, writing three songs that were in fact his best yet. He’d lived as a husband…though not biblically…and formed a real friendship. Whatever else she wasn’t, Sherry was his friend. He cared about her. Wanted the best for her. Hell, maybe even loved her.

Elvis darted through the crack in the door and hopped onto his legs. “Hey, boy.”

Picking up the puppy’s soft weight, he fell back on the mattress, Elvis planted on his chest. “I’m gonna miss you, too. Our daily walks helped me think, yes they did.” Laughing, he rubbed behind a fluffy ear. “Your mama’s even got me speaking baby talk.” Warm puppy breath hit his chin and the dog’s upper lip twitched. “You gotta take care of her for me, okay? You’re gonna be the man of the house again. Don’t let any strangers inside; attack any burglars.” He thought for a moment. “Attack any dates she brings home, too.”

The very real possibility—no,
guarantee
, that Sherry would be dating again hit him like a brick. She was too beautiful, too lovely, too perfect to stay single. She’d go on eventually and find someone else to give her the fairy tale, and he’d be left alone. Like he wanted.

He looked into Elvis’s eyes and scratched under the dog’s chin.

“Knock, knock.”

Glancing over, Tyler watched Sherry slide the door fully open and smile. The sight never stopped slaying him. She shifted her weight and shoved her hands in her back pockets. “So, I was thinking…” Her gaze fell on his open suitcase and the light vanished from her eyes. “You’re packing already?”

He almost laughed. In many ways, they were totally compatible. A similar sense of humor, shared interests, and off the charts chemistry. But Tyler’s need for order, and Sherry’s need to wing it, was definitely not one of those compatible areas.

“Just getting a head start,” he said. “You know me. I never wait to the last minute.” He winked to show he was teasing, but she didn’t respond. She nipped at her bottom lip, and he pushed to his elbows. “You were saying you’d thought of something?”

“Oh. Right.” Sherry leaned her back against the wall and raked her fingers through her hair, seeming to debate for a minute before squaring her shoulders. “I’ve been thinking Arianne might need some help while you’re on the road. Setting up venues, promoting, things like that. Maybe I could come with you for a while.” Her gaze flittered to the far wall. “It’d probably be good experience for me.”

A selfish warmth hit Tyler’s chest, even as pressure built behind his eyes. She wanted to come with him. Leave her family and friends, put a pause on her budding career, all to travel the world by his side. And
God
, did he want her there. Just the thought of waking up to her easy smiles, hearing her infectious laugh, made him excited for the tour. He’d been dreading it every calendar day that passed, knowing it meant saying good-bye. That wasn’t fair to his guys, to Charlie.

But if she came with them…

No
. Tyler squeezed his eyes shut. What kind of man would he be if he said yes? A selfish one, that’s what. Sherry deserved better than him and the life he could give. From what he could tell, she’d always put the needs of her family and friends above her own. This was
her
time now. Saying yes, letting her come with him, would mean letting her choose his dream over hers.

Staying in Magnolia Springs was for the best.

“I’m pretty sure Arianne’s got it covered,” he replied.

When her shoulders slumped, Tyler reached a new level of self-loathing. But he convinced himself he was doing the right thing. Relationships couldn’t last without roots. If Sherry joined him on the road, they’d only be prolonging the inevitable. He was far gone in this girl already, and he saw how she watched him. The only shot he had of not completely decimating her was ending it now. A clean break, just like they’d agreed.

“Besides, you don’t need experience,” he added, hiding away his pain. Camouflaging emotions was a necessary survival skill in the entertainment industry. “You’ve got clients coming to you.”

He willed her to look at him, so she could see his forced smile and they could pretend everything was fine. But when her hazel eyes turned his way and locked on him with pooled hurt, breath
whoosh
ed from his lungs.

Sherry’s gaze tracked his face, eyes narrowed in search. Maybe she was looking for assurance. Maybe she hoped to discover how he felt about her. Tyler stared back, expressionless even though it killed him, and watched his beautiful wife’s face shut down.

Unable to stand it any longer, especially when everything in him wanted to retract his words and beg her to come with him, Tyler pulled a true dickhead move. Stretching his arms above his head, he yawned big and fake. “Man, I’m beat.” He rolled his shoulders and sighed heavily. “I think I’ll turn in early. Get some rest for the parade tomorrow.”

She nodded once and wrapped her arms around herself. But still she didn’t budge.

In the same breath he wanted her to leave, he also needed her close. Was desperate to soak up as much time with her as he could. So even though he should’ve been pushing her away, discouraging a greater attachment, he asked, “Are you still going to watch from the stands?” She nodded again, this time with a forced smile, and the tightness in his chest eased a fraction. “Good. I’ll be looking for you.”

She pushed away from the wall. “I even got a new dress for the ball,” she told him. “Need to wow the press for our last hurrah, right?”

Tyler winced at the slight edge to her voice. “Right.”

Fingers drummed against her thigh as she hesitated by the opened door. “All right then, I guess I’ll let you get some rest.” When he didn’t argue, she looked away. Raising her voice an octave, she called, “Coming, boy?”

Elvis sagged against his chest. He’d been glued to Tyler’s side ever since he’d arrived, sleeping in his bed, cuddling on his lap on the sofa. Sherry shook her head softly and mumbled, “Traitor.”

A fluffy white tail ticked in response, and Sherry raised her eyes to his. “Night, music man.”

He hated that it sounded so final. But he guessed, in a way, it was. “Good night, sugar.”

…

Well, you wanted a clear sign. I think you got it.

Sherry closed the bathroom door and leaned against it. Lord, she was an idiot. She’d gone into his room, completely believing she was prepared for any outcome. Of course, she’d hoped for the best. Hell, she’d even expected it. But she was a big girl.

If Tyler had said yes, then that would’ve been awesome. She’d have gladly stood at her next book club meeting and proclaimed she’d been wrong. Happily ever after really
did
exist outside fiction. And, if he’d said no, well, that would’ve been okay, too. It would’ve hurt, sure. But it wasn’t like she was in
love
with the guy.

Swallowing hard, Sherry rubbed the left side of her chest, soothing the throb that screamed,
Liar
.

Tyler was wonderful, and she cared a lot about him. She enjoyed his company, liked the way he made her feel. Loved the sound of his laugh and the strum of his guitar. Without his stealth cleaning operations, the clutter on her counters would return, and she’d have to hide all her shoes from Elvis—he liked to chew on or pee in them when he was angry, and he’d be pissed when Tyler left. Her baby had totally chosen sides, and it was
not
hers.

But those things didn’t equal love.

Love
was pure passion and complete insanity. It was terrifying, intense, and fickle as hell. It made her second-guess her every thought, every move, and held her brain hostage. It didn’t feel comfortable, peaceful, or
tender.
Not in her experience, anyway.