There it was. Tyler’s opening. The question of how and when it would happen had kept him up all night, and she’d just presented him with the perfect opportunity. Shifting his weight, his boot crunched an old water bottle on the floorboard of her tiny car. He scratched the side of his jaw, prepared to lay it all on the line…and had nothing.
Shit. Why am I so nervous?
“I don’t give a crap about alimony, if that’s what you’re thinking,” she said, clearly misreading his silence. “I don’t want a cent of your money. Just want the creepers out of my bushes.”
The reminder of the cameraman firmed his resolve. He’d already gotten her in this mess. Marriage to him, out in the open, would offer Sherry some kind of protection. He could insist on a bodyguard and even defend her himself over the next month. Let that guy show up again on Tyler’s watch. His jaw locked at the thought.
“I know you’re not out for my money, sugar,” he said, gazing at her from across the car. “You didn’t even know I had any until yesterday. That wasn’t why I hesitated.”
“It’s not?” When he remained silent, a curious smile touched her lips. “Okay, I’ll bite. Why did you hesitate?”
Her smile widened, probably wondering what the big deal was. Perhaps even thinking he’d lost his mind. In some ways, it sure as hell felt as if he had. But that wide, gorgeous, easy smile finally prompted him to go for broke.
“What would you say if I suggested we stay married?”
Chapter Seven
“Stay…married?”
For one brief, hope-filled second, the romantic in Sherry fantasized that somehow in the forty-eight hours they’d spent together, and the forty-eight hours since, Tyler had honestly fallen for her. That insta-love was real, cute babies shot arrows at people’s butts, and fairy tales existed in the real world. But then sanity returned, and she drop-kicked that part of herself to the curb. That had been the romance novels talking.
“Yeah.” Tyler gave a disbelieving sort of laugh, confirming her thoughts. “I know it sounds insane. Hell, it is insane. But see, I have a business proposal for you.”
Business proposal. The antithesis of the romantic kind. Sherry almost laughed aloud at her previous girlish hopes. Silly, naïve heart, won’t you ever learn?
The pragmatic man in her passenger seat shifted and said, “Listen, I know it’s asking a lot, but just hear me out, okay?”
Sheer, masochistic desire had her nodding, needing to kill any remaining hope. Tyler took a breath and let it out. “What I’d like is to deliver a press release and announce that we’re happily married.” Her eyes widened, and he rushed on. “See, the tabloids already got wind of the story. It’s out there, and by tomorrow, it’ll be everywhere. But what I’m saying, what I want, is for us to spin it our way. Control the story. Then after that”—he glanced away and then back—“well, I’d like to spend the month with you, here in New Orleans. Be photographed together. Really sell our version of the truth, you know?”
Sherry’s mind raced to process the verbal vomit he’d just thrown at her. Unfortunately, at some point wires must’ve gotten crossed, because what she finally comprehended was complete lunacy.
She shook her head and closed one eye. “I’m sorry, what? I think my brain must be broken. I could’ve sworn you just confused me with an actress. Or a mindless, starry-eyed groupie.”
Other than a slight wince, Tyler didn’t appear that fazed by her reaction. He just continued watching her watch him, an expectant look in his eyes. Maybe her new husband had a few screws loose.
“I know what you’re thinking—”
“No, I honestly don’t think you do.” She bit her lip and searched his face, trying to spot the crazy—and he laughed. That didn’t help her opinion of his sanity at all.
“Let me back up and explain.” He removed his ball cap and ran his fingers through his hair. It was long on top, and Sherry vividly recalled grabbing on to those strands. She shook the image away as Tyler twisted the cap around and replaced it on his head. Bright green eyes, unencumbered by hair or brim, worked their swoony magic as he stared into hers, and Sherry couldn’t help but think, At least he’s a hot nutcase.
“The day I met you in Vegas,” he began, “my publicist gave me an article that called my credibility into question. Apparently, relationships are the new aphrodisiac. At least in country music.” His upper lip lifted in a sneer that spoke volumes. “Sherry, I’m not sure how much you know about me, but I’m not what you’d call a relationship kind of guy. Music isn’t just my career. It’s my life. Emotional entanglements of any kind would just get in the way. But that’s why our drunken mistake is sort of a blessing in disguise.”
Sherry snorted. “Wow. Damn boy, you really know how to woo a girl. Emotional entanglements. Are you for real?” She shook her head, sure that she was either still asleep or someone had slipped something seriously funky in her morning coffee. The world no longer made any sense. For no other reason than utter curiosity, she tilted her head and said, “What exactly are you proposing? A press release and a month of staged photos, and then…what?”
Tyler regarded her for a moment, then exhaled heavily and scratched the side of his jaw. “First off, the photos wouldn’t exactly be staged. We’d be out, living life, you going about your normal routine with me in tow, and the photographers would capture that. As for after next month…” He trailed off and cleared his throat. Not a good sign. “We’d stay married for a year or so, more than likely maintaining separate residences in different states,” he added, lifting his hand in the air for emphasis, “with just a few targeted photo ops in select national magazines.”
The boyish, innocent smile he slid her was at once highly confident and a touch uncomfortable. A mix he pulled off remarkably well. Sherry laughed aloud. “Oh, is that all?” With another shake of her head, she fired up the engine. “Why on earth would I agree to that?”
He was silent for a long beat before quietly answering, “Because you’re the only one who can.”
Reversing out of her space, she turned to look at him and saw that he meant it. “Seriously? A woman you barely know. Aren’t women lined up in Nashville to fill this very position?”
“Maybe.” He shrugged a shoulder and faced front to buckle his seat belt. “But I trust you.”
Dammit, that wasn’t playing fair. Words like that called on every feminine instinct she had. Coming to a stop in front of the garage pay window, she searched for a way to reply without sounding like a bitch. Before she could, though, he added, “And I’d really like to help you, too.”
“Me?” She slid the lady in the booth a ten dollar bill and accelerated past the gate after being waved on. “How can you help me?”
“With your event-planning business.”
Sherry blinked. “I-I told you about that?” She wracked her brain, trying to recall when she’d revealed her biggest secret, let anyone in on that hidden wish, and came up with nothing. She hadn’t even told her family about it, because there’d be no point. It was a stupid pipedream. Nothing would ever really happen.
And she’d told him?
“Yep. Mentioned it somewhere between the fourth and fifth round of margaritas, I think.” She looked over, surprised, and he shrugged. “Gets pretty fuzzy after that, but the job part I specifically remember. Your eyes lit up, a smile took over your face, and you said that if you could do anything in the world, that’d be it. You called it your dream.” He paused. “That’s what music is for me. And with my help, we can make your dream come true too.”
A neighboring minivan honked, and she swerved back into her own lane. Embarrassment flushed her cheeks, and she fluffed her hair to cover her face. She suddenly felt exposed. And more than a little insulted.
“Tyler, this isn’t freaking Pretty Woman. I don’t need your white knight ass swooping in and rescuing me. I already told you I didn’t want your money. If I wanted to do this, I could do it myself. I have a savings account.”
An account
she’d nicknamed “For My Dream” and had been building for years. Last time she checked, her nest egg had enough zeroes to make more than a decent-sized dent in her plan. She was just too chicken shit to do anything about it.
What if she told her brother and sister about it and they were disappointed? The restaurant had been in their family for years. A business they ran together. The thought of letting them down was too much. And that wasn’t even the biggest stumbling block.
What if she did go for it, honestly try, and put everything into making the dream happen…only to completely crash and burn?
That would be too devastating to come back from.
No, it wasn’t money keeping her from stepping out. Drive and heart weren’t the problem either. The only thing holding Sherry back was herself. And a super-size portion of fear.
“I wasn’t trying to insult you,” Tyler said. “I honestly want to help, and if not with my money, then with my name. Plan events for me this next month, come up to Nashville at some point and throw a party. Build your resume, gain experience, and use me to get your own name out there.” His voice sounded off somehow. Soft and sincere. Unguarded. “Hell, no one else has a problem using me. And unlike with the others, I actually want you to.”
She snuck a glance, shocked to discover the look on his face was hurt. That didn’t make any sense. Why did it matter to him if she did the business or not? They might be married in the eyes of the law, but in the space of her car, they were practically strangers. “Why do you even care about this?”
“Because I believe in you,” he answered, surprising her with the conviction in his voice. “Because I saw your passion in action and read about that auction last fall. The article I read said you more than doubled ticket sales, and made a local charity a fat load of cash. That’s impressive, sugar. More than that, it’s good business. In my industry, you learn to trust your gut, and mine says you’d be incredible at anything you set your mind to. I want to be a part of it.”
His words made the center of her chest ache. He believed in her, and he barely even knew her. She sat there, uncertain how to respond, and he shrugged.
“I just need your help too.”
Sherry held his gaze for a second, then sighed and turned back to the road.
Tyler Blue, internationally famous country star, cared about her silly pipedream. Moreover, his dream was important to him. He’d called it his life. Colby felt that way about being a chef. Cane loved running the restaurant. Sherry had no clue what that kind of passion was like. Waitressing, managing the staff, it was a job. A paycheck at the end of the week, and a way to support her family. But if she ever did risk it all and go after what she wanted, how would she feel if it were suddenly threatened? And not even over anything she’d done, but because of her personal life?
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.
Accidentally Married on Purpose: A Love and Games Novel Page 7
