Accidentally Married on Purpose (27 page)

So she’d stumbled walking from the master in the back. Big whoop. Their current house was on freaking
wheels
. Her balance would’ve been off even if she weren’t carrying the equivalent of a giant basketball in her stomach. But she was indeed with child—a future soccer player or Rockette if kicks were any indication—and her baby-daddy was a worrywart.

“You should be lying down,” Tyler grumbled, sliding on the bench beside her. His expert fingers immediately found the throbbing knot at the base of her spine. It had been spasming all day. “Please humor me. You’re due in a week, we’re at the tail end of a tour, and for all my luck, you’re gonna pop in the middle of a concert.” The pressure from his hand eased as he kissed her temple. “I just want you to be safe.”

Gold in Fort Knox isn’t guarded as safely
, she thought with a chuckle. Honestly, though? The über-protective, clueless-future-father vibe was hot. Seeing her music man worry over her, fuss, make sure doctors were on call in every city they toured…she’d be lying if she said it wasn’t a turn on. Tyler loved her. Truly, completely, totally loved her, and he showed it every minute of every day.

Who knew happiness like this existed outside of books?

Deciding to cut the man some slack, she smiled and grasped his slightly stubbled chin. She tugged him down for a kiss on the lips—that temple business so wasn’t cutting it—and said, “I
am
safe. A bodyguard trails my every step. Arianne is back in control of Meet and Greet duties, and Angelle is handling everything with
Fairy Tale Endings
in Magnolia Springs.”

As a second wedding present, Tyler had purchased her rent-to-own cottage, making the site where their love story began officially theirs. They went back as often as they could, considered it their home, and spent the entire fall and Christmas season with her family. That was when Blue created their latest album, and when they created the baby she affectionately called
Whopper.
That’s all this thing craved—meat, meat, and more meat. In between runs to the nearest Burger King, she’d also set up a thriving event planning business and recently hired Angelle as her partner.

“I’m fat, happy, and practically living in bubble wrap,” she continued with a grin. “And Elizabeth Angelina Blue would be blessed to enter this world while her daddy’s kicking butt on stage. Some of his best lyrics are inspired by a fabulous woman.” Her husband scrunched one eye and sized her up, then flashed his crooked grin. Expert fingers moving again, only this time decidedly
south
of the base of her spine, he murmured his agreement. “Can’t argue with that. A hot woman, too.”

“Good God, I’m eating here!” Charlie made a production out of gagging, but she saw through his act. He was going to make an amazing honorary uncle. And, hopefully, occasional babysitter. “I thought you two would’ve gotten all the gushy, mushy, love crap out of your system after the last tour.”

“Sorry to disappoint you,” Tyler replied. “But hey, look on the bright side. All this gushy, mushy, love crap is the reason our last two albums kick such ass.” He slid his arm around Sherry’s shoulders and cuddled her close. “Embrace it, my friend.”

“Better yet, get your own woman,” she suggested, smiling despite the increased pain in her back. It was an ongoing joke between them. Charlie was the eternal playboy with a heart of gold. One day he’d settle down and make a fabulous boyfriend. For now, she’d just tease him into submission.

“Yeah, yeah.” Charlie rolled his eyes and shoved a spoonful of Cap’n Crunch into his mouth. Loud crunching soon filled the bus.

Sherry shifted her enormous weight on the bench. Man, today was a doozy. Pregnancy had been relatively easy on her thus far. A few bouts of morning sickness in the beginning, fatigue around the second trimester, and her obsession with meat (and unattractive waddle) in the third. Mostly, though, she was enjoying the hell out of this thing.

Today, however, she’d awoken with a dull pain in her lower back that wouldn’t go away. In fact, hours later, it seemed to be getting worse.

Lord, what would actual labor feel like?

Just then, another spasm rocked her core. Teeth clenched, she gripped Tyler’s thigh as she breathed through the cramp.

“Still in pain?” When she nodded jerkily, Tyler swung his gaze about the bus. “Want me to grab the heating pad?”

“No.” Thankfully, the spasm was easing. After a few more moments of deep breathing, all that remained was a dull ache. A low laugh bubbled in her throat as she slumped against the seat. “I’m fine. I think Whopper’s just punishing me for the Chinese last night. Sticky note to self: only burgers until I give birth.”

“Uh, Sher?”

Sherry glanced at Charlie to see his head tilted, gaze darting between them.

“You think maybe you’re in labor?”

“No.” She shook her head forcefully. “Oh, no. I’m not due for another week. Besides, it’s almost all in my back.”

Cereal bowl forgotten, he grabbed for his phone. “Are the pains lasting longer and longer?” he asked, eyebrows raised. She nodded reluctantly. “And coming frequently?”

Well damn. When he put it like that…

“But it’s only in my back,” she repeated.

Charlie shrugged. “Five older sisters, twelve nieces and nephews, and only a few had traditional contractions. The rest all had back labor.” His gaze flicked to Tyler. “What? I’m a good brother. You find the nearest doctor, and I’ll go tell the driver.”

Without another word, her husband leapt from the bench. He went to the back of the bus, Charlie stalked to the front, and Sherry sat there, staring at the tabletop.

“But it’s only in my back!”

This was not happening. She’d done her research, read her books, and every stinking one of them said she needed a birthing plan. So, by God, she’d actually made one. And it was already an epic fail.

For starters, she looked a mess. Far too many photos existed of stringy-haired, sweaty women holding their babies, and that business was supposed to end here.
Her
baby’s first photo was going to show a darling angel, a proud papa, and a glistening mama with full-on makeup.

Currently though, thanks to the dull ache she’d had all morning, the only thing Sherry was rocking was cherry-flavored Chapstick.

Also, Merle Haggard?
So
not in her birthing plan. No, she had a playlist prepped, ready, and filled with girl power. Katy Perry, Beyoncé, even old-school Madonna. Music to empower her, give her confidence, and keep her sane until the good doc arrived with drugs. No trains, tractors, or whiskey involved.

Sherry’s gaze swung to the dead phone holding her beloved playlist hostage.

Why could she never remember to charge the bloody thing?

As if in agreement, a new spasm shot up her spine, rocketing her off the seat. Instinctively, she curled forward to shield baby Whopper from the pain, and breathlessly called out,
“Babe?”

Her voice was so low she doubted he’d even heard her, but a moment later, Tyler marched back down the hall, duffel bag in one hand, functioning cell phone in the other. “I just called Colby and they’re on their way.” Eyes wide and alert, he tossed the bag on the counter, scooped her into his arms, and said, “The nearest hospital is two miles away. Hang on, sugar, we’re almost there.”

If she weren’t in so much pain, it’d be adorable. Gripping his shoulders tight, she lifted her chin in acknowledgment and exhaled.

Strong fingers pressed into her back. The silly lessons her Lamaze coach taught them came flooding back, the ones she’d sworn she’d never do because they looked so dumb. But when the pain continued, Sherry decided dumb or not,
anything
was worth a shot.

“He he hooo.” Yep, complete and total idiot. “He he hooo.” But dang it if she cared.

The breathing exercises continued until, a few moments later, the contraction passed. “Holy crap.” Sherry sagged against her husband and huffed a laugh. “Yo, labor ain’t no joke.”

She shook her head and then raised it to find Tyler’s mouth curved in an awed smile. A mix of anxiety and wonder filled his green eyes, and he gently slid a palm around to cradle her stomach. “You’re about to be a mama.”

Happy tears sprang to her eyes as her heart melted all over the floor. She touched a hand to his cheek and said, “You’re about to be a daddy.”

His gaze lowered to his hand on her swollen abdomen. The muscles of his jaw flexed and her hair fanned with his exhale. Locking his gaze with hers, he said, “Thank you.”

She knew he meant more than for just this moment. This was emotional for both of them, wishing their mothers could be there. But in their own way, they were. And their daughter would forever honor both her namesakes: Elizabeth Blue and Angelina Robicheaux.

Sherry smiled, feeling the slow glide of tears on her cheeks. “Thank
you.
”

Charlie cleared his throat behind them. The bus came to a stop, and Sherry glanced out the window. The doors for Meadow Crest Hospital were just beyond, and already a few people were gawking in their direction. Apparently, tour buses didn’t roll up here that often.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Charlie said, “but we’re here.”

Sherry rolled her shoulders as the chorus of “Roar” started in her head. She looked up at Tyler and asked, “Ready to do this, Daddy?”

His answering smile, while still a bit anxious, was also full of excitement. “Ready for the next adventure with you? Definitely.”

Both men grabbed a hand and helped her down the stairs. For once, she didn’t mind the fussing. Face-planting out of a tour bus in front of a crowd was most certainly not a part of her birth plan. When she reached the ground, she grabbed hold of her husband’s steadying arm and said, “Just think of the songs you’ll write after this.”

“Already on it.”

Unsurprising, Tyler withdrew a pad of sticky notes from his pocket. What was surprising was that the first sheet was already filled with words. A boyish grin replaced his usual confident one as he handed her the note.

My Gorgeous Wife,
Marrying you was the best decision I ever made.
Our future child is the best gift I’ve ever received.
Thank you.
Tyler
P.S. I hope this girl’s as crazy as you are.
Tears fell freely now, and Sherry didn’t even bother to swipe them. Sniffling, she looked over and said, “I’m crazy, huh?”

“Certifiable.” His response was immediate and seemed sincere. But before she could get all riled up, he added, “And I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

She laughed aloud and reached down to link her fingers with his. Then, hand in hand, they walked through the emergency room doors, ready for their next adventure.

* * *

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Acknowledgments

When I sat down to plot this book, I had such a smile on my face. It’s no secret that Sherry has been a fan favorite since day one…truthfully, she’s my favorite, too. I couldn’t wait to dive into her world and give her the happy ending she so rightfully deserved. I hope you enjoyed the outcome!

Writing the Love and Games series has been such a thrill. This was my first foray into adult romance, even though I’ve been reading the genre since I was a young girl swiping books from my mama’s shelf. Words don’t exist to thank you for the incredible welcome I’ve received, so for every reader, reviewer, and blogger who’s taken a chance, for every sweet message and letter I’ve received, and for every friend I’ve made on this journey, just know that I adore you. You are my daily dose of inspiration and gratitude.

Rose Garcia, thank you for sharing your sweet mother-in-law’s story with me. Char Ryken was a courageous woman who battled peritoneal cancer but never lost her spunk. Peritoneal cancer acts and is treated in much the same way as ovarian cancer, and it is Char’s story that inspired Tyler’s mother. For every woman who has faced a similar battle, and for every loving family member who has held their hands, my prayers and thoughts are with you.

Ashley Bodette, assistant extraordinaire, you are the cure for my insanity. Thank you for speed-reading these pages as I write them, and then reading the second, third, and fourth drafts if I can’t seem to get a certain scene right. Thank you for not laughing too hard at my crazy plot outlines, for your keen insight into the editing process, and for all the laughter.

Trish Wolfe and Shannon Duffy blessed these pages with their notes and love—best critique partners ever! Also a shoutout to Trish for the character name inspiration J Jessica Mangicaro blew my mind with her beta notes (and love for Tyler, *mwah*). And I can’t thank Caisey Quinn, Megan Rigdon, and Staci Murden enough for their enthusiasm and fabulous feedback. Love you, girls!