His entire body went on high alert, completely attuned to that one spot where she touched him. “I totally agree.”
“I wish you’d let me go,” she murmured, her grip on his shirt loosening, though her hand never moved. She slid those soft fingers down his chest in the lightest of touches, and he felt that gentle caress as if she’d stroked the tip of his dick.
“There is no way in hell I’m going to let you go. Not until…” He dipped his head, the urge to kiss her damn near overwhelming. If he felt nothing, not even a spark, then he’d let her leave. Forget this potential wife business.
A whimper escaped her when he brushed her mouth with his. The spark lit, crackled between them, and he smiled, kissed her again, igniting the fire. And then again, persuading her mouth open, her lips parted on a sigh, her tongue tentatively touching his. Memories flashed and his body reacted, remembering hers.
Oh yeah, he could drown in her taste, sweet and spicy and with a hint of mint. He held her in place, breathing her in, enjoying the slow burn that swept over his skin, simmered in his veins.
Jared broke the kiss, staring down at her, her big, golden eyes blinking open, watching him with a mixture of shock and wariness. Yeah, he felt exactly the same.
“At least listen to what I have to say,” he murmured.
She closed her eyes, pressed her lips together. As if she were battling an epic war within herself. “You’ll only try to convince me to do it when I know I shouldn’t.”
“Why shouldn’t you?” He touched the delicate line of her jaw, stroking her soft skin. They were in the middle of the sidewalk in downtown Carmel and he was kissing her, touching her for all the world to see. He was taking a huge risk.
For whatever reason, he couldn’t seem to give a shit.
She blinked up at him. “God, I should probably sell the gallery if I’m even remotely considering doing this.”
Triumph threatened to erupt in a shit-eating grin on his face, but he held himself in check. “You need money.”
Nodding, she sighed, her gaze skittering away from his. “Lots of it. Too much. But I don’t want your money.”
“We get married, my money is your money for the duration of the marriage.” He shrugged. Harvey would punch him in the face for saying such a thing.
Her jaw dropped open. “You’re crazy.”
“I am. For my career, I’ll do just about anything.” He couldn’t leave. It made his dad so damn happy, seeing him play. Telling everyone he worked with that Jared Quinn was his son. He had season tickets and he brought all his friends to every single game, bragging that he’d sacrificed everything to get Jared to the top. The thought of going somewhere else, of leaving his hometown, of leaving and disappointing his dad, was almost too much to bear.
“You’re that passionate about it?”
“I know nothing else.” He spread his arms wide. “I’ve played since I was in grade school for the junior leagues. I went to college but I hardly remember the courses I took. I was going through the motions while I played. Until the Hawks signed me and I came home to California where I belonged.”
She shuffled her feet, nibbled her lower lip. He was filled with the sudden urge to taste her again.
“I can’t believe I’m considering this. It’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard. And I’ve heard of a lot of crazy things.” She shook her head.
“Really? From where?” He doubted her. She looked too young, too naïve to have experienced a few scams. Whereas he felt like he’d seen and done it all and he wasn’t even thirty.
“My best friend’s dad is Walter Cavanaugh, the entertainment lawyer. I’ve heard
plenty
from her.”
“This sort of thing happens more than you realize. I’d guess at least twenty-five percent of Hollywood marriages are fake, based on a binding contract that gets both parties involved by giving them whatever they want out of it, money and fame-wise.”
“Do you really believe that?” Her voice lowered. “Do you think Tom and Katie were fake?”
He tried not to roll his eyes. He sort of liked how she wanted to believe in Tom and Katie, that maybe she was a romantic at heart. No wonder Harvey thought she was a good choice. “I know this all sounds crazy but give it some thought. You want to grow your business. I need to fix my image. I think together, we could make a great team.”
“Really?” She sounded incredulous.
He nodded, dead ass serious. “Really. You’re my only hope.” And now he sounded straight out of
Star Wars
.
What was this woman doing to him?
“The terms are rather stringent, so we’d need you to readily agree in a rather rushed manner,” Harvey explained when they returned.
“How rushed?” Sheridan asked.
Jared watched her. She looked nervous. He felt nervous. This was it—his last chance. He still didn’t quite get why he was so fixated on her.
Great sex messed with your head, jackass.
“Within a week type rushed,” Harvey said smoothly.
“And how long would the terms be in effect?” She lifted her chin, her lips pursed.
Jared studied her mouth, fascinated with the lush curve of her bottom lip. His mouth still tingled from that searing kiss.
“A year.”
Sheridan burst out laughing, shaking her head. “A freaking year? That’s a long time for me to pretend to be married.”
“Oh, there won’t be any pretend going on. You two will really be married.”
“Right.” She laughed louder, an edge of hysteria to the sound. “And when it’s all said and done, we’ll get a divorce and it’s over? How is
that
going to improve his image?”
“By then it won’t matter so much. The two of you together will have healed his damaged reputation and he’ll come out of it a changed man. You can then walk away—with a very fat sum of money, I might add.”
Her face was flushed. Had their earlier kiss put roses in her cheeks? Her gaze flashed to Jared, those golden brown eyes lingering for a moment and she nibbled on her lower lip, as if contemplating what to do next. That little gesture was going to drive him out of his mind if he didn’t watch it.
“Just…consider it,” Harvey said. “We can meet with you again tomorrow. Bring the lawyers and have a contract agreement hammered out, detailing everything that would be expected of you, the monetary agreement and so forth.”
She flinched. Probably didn’t like hearing it phrased like that, but damn. This was a business transaction, which meant money would pass hands. It couldn’t be avoided. “I don’t like the idea of being paid for this,” she said.
“You need the money, right?” he asked gently. He knew what that was like. He’d grown up poor, his football future the only shining light at the end of the tunnel for him and his dad. And when he’d hit it big, he’d bought his dad a house and made sure he was financially sound.
“It’s just, the studio was my grandma’s.” Her eyes grew darker, full of sadness. “She died over a year ago and it’s my last connection to her.”
Sympathy filled him, swift and consuming. Breathing deep, he reached out, settled his hand over hers for the briefest moment, felt the jolt all the way to his bones. He barely touched her and he reacted. “I can help you keep it,” he said quietly. Jared realized right then he didn’t want to deal with anyone else. Didn’t want the possibility of auditioning a bunch of skanks for the chance to be his pretend wife. He wanted this one.
And no one else.
But he was saved from saying anything else when Harvey leaned forward, an expectant expression on his face. “Shall we set up an appointment first thing tomorrow morning? So we can go over the formal agreement?”
“I never said I was going to agree.”
Harvey’s smile was brimming with confidence. “You’ll agree. You won’t be able to resist.”
Sheridan’s gaze cut to Jared and she didn’t say anything for a long, telling moment. The longer she looked at him, the more uncomfortable he became. “Fine,” she finally said. “But I’ll be bringing my lawyer.”
Chapter Five
Sheridan flipped through the thick pile of papers, skimming them, losing focus quickly so that the words blurred. She’d already read the documents. So had her lawyer, the incomparable Walter Cavanaugh. Talk about thorough. The man hadn’t let them get away with a thing.
She trusted him—after all, she’d known Willow since they were in elementary school. His first bit of advice had been to try and talk her out of it. When she hadn’t budged, he’d reassured her before they walked into Jared Quinn’s lawyer’s office that he would get her the maximum amount of money she deserved for such an outrageous and life-altering plan.
And he did. The total amount she’d receive was staggering. The first check—30 percent upfront was what Walter had negotiated—sat in her purse. She needed to go to the bank at lunch and deposit that sucker. Knowing it just sat there made her extremely nervous. But relieved. Sending her mom a set amount every month, nothing too outrageous, would keep her happy, financially sound, and not too suspicious. The studio’s business would pick up, too, so then she’d understand.
And then she’d marry Jared Quinn and her mom would
really
understand.
Sheridan knew she should call her. She hadn’t talked to her mom in weeks. They’d fallen into the habit of not talking a few years ago. But her mom was too busy living her life, spending frivolously, behaving like a teenager. They’d done a complete role reversal. And not like she could tell her mom what was going on—she could only imagine what her mom might do with that sort of information.
The entire situation made her a little sick, the legalities of it, the seriousness of what she was about to embark on. But she’d done it. One week after that meeting at her studio, she’d signed on the dotted line, and soon, she would become Mrs. Sheridan Quinn, wife of the famous quarterback for the San Jose Hawks.
The money had been tempting, she couldn’t argue with that. And the chance to bring her business into the next stratosphere also held massive appeal.
But it was the man who had pushed her over the edge. Pretending to be married to Jared Quinn was a temptation she couldn’t resist. Which was why she’d put the no-sex clause into the agreement—one that Jared didn’t know came at her request. The one that would keep her strong and ensure she didn’t do anything stupid.
Any
sort of sexual contact was grounds for dissolution. She’d asked Walter to include it to protect herself and he’d readily agreed to the idea. In fact, he’d encouraged it, saying the clause was the perfect way to protect her from doing something risky. She’d known Walter since she was a child and he was protective of her. Because she’d never really had a dad, he was the man she looked to for guidance growing up, and she appreciated him watching out for her. It all came together rather easily after that.
Walter hadn’t backed down from the clause whatsoever when they’d been in the midst of negotiations. And Harvey hadn’t batted an eyelash when it was brought up. Neither had Jared’s lawyer, though he’d at least raised an eyebrow.
Jared had looked momentarily stunned but recovered quickly, which filled her with relief. He’d agreed to it, nodding as if it were his idea all along. Of course, how could he protest the clause? He’d look like the world’s biggest jackass. It helped that Walter made it appear he was the one who insisted on the clause by acting as her lawyer and looking out for her best interests, while she had nothing to do with it. When, really, she had everything to do with that clause.
Inserting it into their marriage agreement was the smart thing to do. That night with Jared had been too magical—and dangerous, especially to her sensitive heart. Not to mention the crazy kiss outside the studio, the one that had left her reeling when he finally let her go. She couldn’t risk falling for him any further. Not that she was falling for him per say, but it would be so easy.
Too easy.
She’d been hurt enough the past few years. Taking care of her neglectful mother, mourning the loss of her grandmother, trying her best to keep her new business afloat. She needed no more trouble, no more heartbreak.
Jared Quinn had heartbreak written all over him.
Holy shit
, she thought. Willow was going to kill her. She couldn’t tell her friend the truth, couldn’t admit she was getting married in a few days’ time. The secret was bubbling inside of her, dying to come out, and she didn’t know how much longer she could stand it.
But she didn’t have a choice. She’d have to stand it. If this business deal got out, Jared would look like a complete ass,
and
it would give him the legal right to sue her. Plus, she’d have to forfeit the money—pay back every single dime of it. On the flip side, if Jared leaked the information, she’d have the legal right to sue him—and collect twice the amount of money they’d originally agreed to.
Going to her desk, she settled into the chair, opening her MacBook so she could Google Jared. Again. She’d stayed up half the night researching him, reading the endless articles that detailed the circumstances behind the Craig and Tabitha Wallace scandal. His past indiscretions, the fights he’d gotten into on the field during his college years. How quickly he’d turned around that particular bad habit.
The Super Bowl victory, the many, many articles that detailed last year’s shoulder injury that put him out of commission for the last half of the season. The Hawks had made it to a wild card game, going for their chance to get into the playoffs, but they’d failed. Many blamed it on Jared not playing.
Such enormous pressure. She didn’t know how he did it.
Without thought, she clicked on the images tab at the top, the screen displaying an endless list of photographs of Jared. Out on the field, in uniform and with his helmet on, though anyone could make out that gorgeous face. Practicing with his teammates clad in a Hawks T-shirt and long athletic shorts, sweaty and delicious as the photographer caught him poised perfectly to throw the ball.
Leaning her elbow on the edge of her desk, she rested her chin in her hand, slowly scrolling through the images. This man, this really, really famous, ridiculously good-looking man was going to be her husband. She’d have to pretend she was madly in love with him. Would have to spend time with him on a near-constant basis, though with the football season ready to launch into full throttle, she wouldn’t see him as much when he traveled.
The entire situation was…mind-boggling. She still couldn’t believe she’d agreed to it.
The bell that hung over the front door of her studio gently clanged, indicating someone had come inside. Shutting her laptop, she rose from her desk, ready to approach when she halted in her steps, seeing who stood in the middle of her studio.
Her future fake husband.
“Hope you don’t mind that I stopped by.” Jared glanced around, his eyes wide as he took everything in.
Had he noticed much last time he was here, especially her private workspace? Talk about a messy jumble of stuff. Paint, brushes, and blank canvases, bits of paper and glitter, and photos she’d recently ripped out of magazines she’d wanted to save for inspiration. At least it was what she considered “controlled chaos,” and she knew where everything was.
“I don’t mind.” She clasped her hands in front of her, thankful she’d closed her laptop. If he’d caught her Googling him, she would’ve been mortified.
He walked the perimeter of her gallery, his head tilted back, taking in the paintings that hung on the wall, covering almost every available bit of space. “How long have you been here again?”
“A little over a year.” She still couldn’t believe she’d confessed to him this gallery had once been her grandma’s.
“I didn’t get a chance to tell you how much I liked it when I was here last.” He turned his head to study her, his sharp blue eyes meeting hers, making her nervous. “It’s very bright.”
“Which I’m sure is not your usual style,” she said wryly. Her work appealed mostly to women and children. He didn’t need to make nice just because they were going to be married.
Oh, God. Her heart dropped into her toes all over again at the thought.
“You changed.”
“What? Oh.” She glanced down at herself. Since she couldn’t wear her only good black pantsuit in the studio for fear of ruining it, she’d changed into a pair of old, paint-splattered jeans and an oversized navy blue sweater the moment she arrived. She always kept extra clothes around for moments just like that. “I’m leading a class later this afternoon.”
“Really. For whom?” He crossed his arms in front of his chest. Still clad in the suit that he wore earlier at the lawyer’s office, though he’d shed the jacket, loosened the tie, and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. Revealing muscular forearms covered with golden hair, arms that were the most talented the NFL had to offer.
The realization left her weak in the knees. She knew what it felt like to be held in those arms.
“It’s an after-school class. I do a few of them each month.” They were a lot of fun. The kids were always enthusiastic to learn, easy to teach, and so creative. They painted with abandon and without fear.
“Huh. Well.” He paused, appearing a little unsure of how to proceed next. An unusual look for him, she was sure. “Now that we got the legalities out of the way, I need to know a few things.”
Instant worry made her stomach tumble and she stood straighter, hoping like crazy she looked calm, cool, and serene. “What do you need to know?”
Jared surprising her by coming to her studio was bad enough. That he asked her such a loaded question while looking utterly gorgeous set her on edge. His mere presence filled the room, overwhelming her, and she took a step back, needing the space.
As if he sensed her need and didn’t give a crap, he took a step forward, obliterating everything she saw, everything that surrounded them, until all she could see. Was. Jared.
“First, do you have any skeletons in your closet?”
She arched a brow. “Shouldn’t you have asked that prior to our signing the agreement?”
“I figured Harvey found out everything he could about you, including all the bad stuff. But maybe you have something to confess.”
“Nothing too major. Besides our motel room incident.” God, why did she go there? Was she an idiot? And he made her wary, standing so close. The memory of their night together came rushing back, filling her with the need to taste those sensual lips again. They were incredibly soft, incredibly warm, and the rasp of his tongue against hers…
“I’m going to be your husband, after all.” His assured tone sent her insides tumbling and she breathed deeply. Tried her best for complete composure.
“True.” She tapped her index finger against her pursed lips, noticing that his rather avid gaze remained locked on the movement of her finger. Interesting. She dropped her hand. “Well, I do have that one boyfriend I’d rather not admit to dating.”
“Really.”
She nodded. “He was my only regret.”
“Why? Did he break your heart?” The thunderous expression on his face secretly thrilled her.
Sheridan wanted to giggle but held it in. “He tried to. Just as I was starting to fall for him, he left me for my friend Heather.”
Jared’s entire body went rigid. “Who is this asshole?”
“His name was Rooster.” She could barely keep a straight face.
His expression was nothing short of incredulous. “Are you serious?”
She nodded, warming up to the story. After all, it was true. “I met him the summer after I graduated high school. We dated for a few months and then, when Heather left for Berkeley, he followed her. I think they eventually got married.”
“And his name was
Rooster
.”
“Yes. Well, I guess it was a nickname. I never heard him called anything else.”
“Why the hell did they call him Rooster?”
“No one knows.” She shrugged, frowning.
“I want to call bullshit but…”
“I’m telling the truth. Trust me, Rooster is real. And I’m pretty sure he lives in Berkeley with Heather.”
“Figures,” Jared muttered, shaking his head. “You don’t look like the sort of girl who would go out with a guy named
Rooster.
”
“We all have our mistakes, right?” She smiled. Well, that was fun. She hadn’t thought of Rooster in years—he was that forgettable, with the exception of his name. “So what was the other thing you wanted to know?”
“If we’re compatible. I mean, I know I’m no Rooster but…” He stood directly in front of her, his shoulders so broad he blocked out most of the light shining from the small lamp that sat on her desk. “It’s kind of important, since we’ll be husband and wife.”
“Trust me, it’s a good thing you’re nothing like Rooster.” She nodded once, swallowed past the lump in her throat.
Husband and wife.
That had quite the ring to it. “I took drama in high school. I used to be a fairly good actress.”
He smiled at that admission, the sight of it sending a zing to all her feminine parts. It wouldn’t be a hardship pretending to be this man’s wife. Nope, not at all. “If it appears we’re not attracted to each other, they’ll know.”
“Who’ll know?” She frowned.
“The media. The fans. The game analysts who’ll turn their attention to our body language just because they need something to talk about.” The smile faded, replaced with an expression that bordered on serious. “We have to ensure there’s chemistry between us when we’re out in public.”
“Oh. Right.” Chemistry? She already knew they had it in spades. She felt it right now. Arcing and spinning between them, her body drawn to his as if he were a magnet and she was steel. “I’m not too worried about that,” she admitted, her voice incredulous. Like he didn’t know they had it going on.
The smile that curled his lips made her heart flutter. “So you’re attracted to me.”
Sheridan refused to answer, but he really hadn’t asked it like a question anyway. Pretty much every woman in the United States who had a pulse was attracted to him. And then there was that night they shared… “I think we know there’s plenty of chemistry between us. We proved it already, right?”
“I’m definitely attracted to you.” Parting his lips, he tilted his head, his assessing gaze drinking her in. Making her squirm. “You have pretty eyes.”