“Um, thanks,” she said, wondering at his assessment.
“Good bone structure, full lips.” He analyzed her and she grew uncomfortable with every second that passed. His gaze was so intense as he drank her in it almost felt like he was physically touching her. “I like your hair, though I prefer when you wear it down.” Reaching out, he plucked the clip from the back of her head, causing her hair to fall past her shoulders in a riotous mess.
“It looks terrible,” she said, smoothing her hand over it.
“It’s sexy. Looks like you just tumbled out of bed.” His eyes roved down the length of her. “You also have a sweet body.” His voice had gone deep, as if he remembered
exactly
what her body looked like.
Her cheeks heated. Did the man have sex permanently on the brain or what? They were venturing into dangerous territory and she needed it to stop.
“Thanks.” She paused. “I think.”
He smiled. “I sound like an ass. I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
“No, it’s fine. Glad to know you at least find me somewhat attractive.” She wanted to roll her eyes but held it back. This game they were playing was dangerous. She would lose—and would probably enjoy every minute of it.
“Oh, you’re more than somewhat attractive.” Reaching out, he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his finger brushing the top of her ear. She wanted to melt at his simple touch. She was in so much trouble. “What are you doing tomorrow?”
His scent reached her, clean and masculine, and she breathed deep, inhaling him. Oh, she could get drunk on his intoxicating smell alone. “The usual. Working.”
He smiled. “Wanna get married?”
…
Asking Sheridan so casually had been worth the shocked expression on her face alone. She recovered quickly, Jared could give her that. And he liked that she’d changed clothes, appearing much more natural in her workspace with the paint-covered jeans that fit her like a second skin, and the oversized sweater that threatened to slide off one shoulder at any given moment.
He’d like to be there when that happened, more than ready to catch a glimpse of silken skin.
That’s about all he’d catch a glimpse of, considering the clause that both lawyers had agreed would be added to the contract, declaring no sexual contact or their marriage was considered void.
He hated that fucking clause. Yet he’d signed the agreement anyway.
“Tomorrow?” she finally asked, her voice a little squeaky.
He tossed the hairclip he’d been clutching in his hand high into the air, catching it with ease. “It’s the only day my schedule allows.”
“Um, what about
my
schedule? I work too, you know.”
“Don’t you have someone who works for you? Can cover for a few hours?” He threw the clip into the air again, smiled when he watched her track it with her gaze. Catching it, he handed it to her and she took it, setting it on the counter nearby.
“No.” She shook her head, all that gorgeous golden brown hair sliding against her shoulders. If he had his way, she’d never wear it up again. “I could never afford it.”
“You certainly can now.”
She rested her hands on her hips, her irritation clear. He felt like an ass. “Not like I could hire someone and have them cover for me part time
tomorrow
. There’s not enough time.”
“Yeah, and you’ll be gone all day anyway.”
“All day?” She frowned. “How long does it take to get married?”
“We have to disappear. Act like we’re on a quick honeymoon.”
“Oh.” She looked confused. “Where are we going?”
“I have it all planned out.” He let his gaze wander over her form, taking her in, hoping like hell he got her size right. The dress he and his agent picked out would be delivered to the studio later this afternoon. But what if she didn’t like it?
Now that everything was official, he’d found himself somewhat on board for the bogus marriage. He liked her. But what made it worse? He couldn’t touch her, not like he wanted to. And he really freaking wanted to.
So he’d have to keep his hands to himself. But going celibate for a year sounded like a special kind of hell, and he wasn’t exactly sure how he was going to get around it.
“What should I pack?”
“I have that pretty much all planned out, too.” At her alarmed look, he shook his head. “Don’t freak out; I hired movers. They’ll box up all your stuff and bring it to my place. Or if you prefer, we can put most of it in storage until the year is up.”
“And where’s your place?”
“I have a house on Seventeen-Mile Drive, closer to Pebble Beach.”
She nodded slowly. “Of course you do.”
What did she mean by that? “Look, it’s pointless for you to keep that little apartment in Seaside.” Once they split, she’d have enough money to buy a decent house. Anything better than that hovel she lived in.
“I have a lease—” she started but he shook his head.
“Leases are made to be broken. Hell, I’ll pay it off. Don’t worry. Not like you’re going back there when this is all said and done, right?”
“No. I guess not.” She looked a little dazed. Everything was moving at such a rapid pace, he knew he felt a little shell shocked as well. “So do I need to bring anything tomorrow? For the uh…ceremony?”
“No, just yourself.” He reached inside his pocket, pulling out the small, pale blue box he’d picked up just before he came to her studio. “And this.”
The gasp that escaped Sheridan rang in his ears as he handed it over and settled it in her trembling grasp. “What is this?”
“Open it and see.” He nodded toward her and she cracked open the box, a little cry of surprise falling from her lips.
Wide eyes met his, her mouth hanging open for a brief moment before she snapped her teeth shut. “I can’t take this.”
“Yes, you can. It’s yours.” He’d had his agent Gwen pick it up for him at the local Tiffany’s up the street. Heaven forbid he walk in there and buy an engagement ring. It would probably make the national news by evening. Plus, he trusted Gwen to find something special.
“It’s beautiful,” she breathed, her gaze locked on the open box. She smoothed her index finger across the surface of the five-carat center stone, tracing the pave diamonds that surrounded it. “Is this an Asscher cut?”
“How’d you know?” He was impressed. Not that he’d known beforehand—Gwen had to school him on rings when she helped him with the quick Internet research. He’d wanted something big, beautiful, and expensive. He trusted Gwen’s taste. She’d been his agent for years. And the ring had put him down more than one hundred thousand dollars, which meant Gwen had fucking expensive taste. Not that he could tell Sheridan how much the ring cost. She’d probably never wear it if she knew.
“My grandma loved jewelry, especially diamond rings.” The fond smile curving Sheridan’s mouth snatched the breath from his lungs. When she smiled like that, he could easily forget all his troubles. “She married five times. Finally confessed she did it all for the diamond rings they each gave her.”
Jared laughed. “Really?”
“No, not really. My grandma said she was like Elizabeth Taylor. I guess Elizabeth was once quoted saying she was in love with falling in love. My grandma said that described her to a T.” Sheridan pulled the ring from the box and slipped it onto the proper finger. Holding her hand out, she splayed her fingers, admiring the glint of the sparkling ring. “She would’ve loved this one especially,” she said with a sigh.
There didn’t need to be any sentimental attachment to that moment. It was a business transaction, pure and simple. He gave her a ring, he told her they were getting married tomorrow, end of story.
So why did it feel so damn personal, giving the ring to Sheridan, hearing her talk about her grandma? He fought the urge to go to her, draw her into his arms and tell her everything was going to be okay. They could make this work.
There was nothing romantic about it—in fact, it was the complete opposite of romantic.
“I’m glad you like the ring,” he finally said. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning at your apartment. Say around ten?”
“Okay.” She nodded.
“Everything’s arranged. Just…be ready.”
“You’re not giving me many details.” She frowned. “This is all so mysterious.”
Jared couldn’t admit he kept the details from her on purpose. What if she slipped? What if she accidentally told someone they were getting married and where and next thing he knew, they had an entire fleet of paparazzi waiting for them to emerge from the courthouse?
He couldn’t risk it. If she revealed even a hint of what they were about to do tomorrow, they were done for. He flat-out couldn’t trust her.
“It’s nothing crazy, I promise. I have practice for the next two days after we’re married. Our first preseason game is this Sunday.”
“Oh. Home or away?”
“Home.” He studied her. “Have you ever been to a Hawks game before?”
She shook her head. “I’ve never been to any professional games before.”
“Well, if you want to go, you’re more than welcome to. In fact, I’m sure Harvey would encourage it. Good PR and all.”
She rolled her eyes. Damn, he appreciated that little hint of sass. “Could I bring a friend? Maybe a couple?”
“However many tickets you need, you’ll get. You’re the wife of the quarterback, baby. You can have whatever you want.” He grinned when she blushed. Shit, she needed to get used to it. This was gonna be her life, at least temporarily. He wasn’t some regular guy who worked a nine-to-five job and mowed the lawn on the weekend.
The Mighty Jared Quinn was a fucking superstar. His star might be a little tarnished, but she was just the right amount of shine to make him bright again.
He hoped.
Chapter Six
Jared Quinn’s house was unlike anything she’d ever seen. It could’ve come straight from the pages of a magazine, which perhaps it had. Seemed every move the man made was documented for the world to see. A spread he’d done for
GQ
was slated to come out within the next few days. She’d seen the teaser pics on the Internet.
She might’ve created Google alerts to keep her posted. Considering he was her husband now, she had every right to know.
Jared Quinn is my husband.
She wanted to pinch herself extra hard at the realization.
Stepping back, she studied her reflection in the guest bathroom mirror.
Her
bathroom for the duration of their marriage, considering they were sleeping in separate bedrooms. That night would be their first public appearance as a married couple. They’d gone to the county courthouse two days prior and gotten married in a very simple ten-minute ceremony. Jared was clad in a gorgeous silvery gray suit, Sheridan in a white dress he’d had delivered to her studio the afternoon after they signed the contract agreement.
It touched her somehow, that he’d picked out her wedding gown. Funny how the dress had fit her perfectly. Funnier still the fluttery feeling she had in her belly when he first saw her in that dress, just before the quickie ceremony. Her unease had vanished when she saw him in his suit, sexier than ever. She’d repeated in her head the entire time that it was a sham.
The memory of his warm blue gaze, how he’d leaned in close and whispered near her ear, “You look beautiful,” had sent a million bazillion butterflies flying within her body.
They’d hid out overnight at an exclusive resort in Big Sur, staying in a suite with three bedrooms and a view that stole her breath. They’d been extra careful with each other. Extra polite, they’d made small talk and she’d sat outside as the sun set, sketching the scenery because it was too beautiful not to capture. They’d ordered room service and then she’d spent her wedding night alone in her own, separate bed.
Weird.
Since the ceremony, they’d hardly seen each other. She was either supervising the moving of her personal items into his ridiculous house or working at the studio. Harvey had hired a team to revamp her website and look into a promotional campaign for her. Jared had been at practice every single day, and most evenings she conducted classes at her studio.
If this was how their marriage was going to be, she could handle it.
But there was a different sort of fluttering in her belly that night. Charlie Monroe was opening a new restaurant in Carmel and all Hawks players were expected to make an appearance, especially Jared. Rumors were flying around town that he’d found himself a steady woman.
Wait until they heard he’d found a freaking wife.
Her cell phone suddenly rang from its spot on her bedside table. She ran across her gigantic bedroom, and noticed it was Willow calling. Dread filled her. “Hello.”
“How dare you. Marrying Jared Quinn and not even telling us?”
That dread fell like a lead weight and settled in the bottom of her heart. “What are you talking about?”
“Don’t play dumb with me, Sheridan. There’ve been stories about Jared finding some secret woman. Then I see the little mention on that horrendous gossip site that they dug up a marriage license. And
your
freaking name is on it!”
Oh. Shit. “Um, well…”
“Don’t hem and haw to me, sister. So did you really marry him? Is TMZ lying?”
“We, uh…” Sheridan swallowed hard. “We got married two days ago.”
A moment of scary silence fell just before her friend exploded. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me! I’ve been beside myself. I’m your best friend and you couldn’t even tell me?”
“I’m sorry, it’s just—it’s been a complete whirlwind since I met Jared.” That wasn’t a lie. She felt like she’d been on a roller coaster ride from the moment she first saw him.
“I’ll say.” Willow snorted. “I’m assuming the two of you will be at the restaurant opening tonight?”
“We will. It’s our first public appearance.” She smoothed a hand down the gold-sequined dress she bought just for the occasion. Did she look stupid? Was it too flashy? And should she wear her hair down or up?
“Perfect. We’ll talk then.” Willow paused, inhaled sharply. “Are you in love with him, Sheridan? You’ve known him, what? A couple of weeks?”
Approximately. But who was counting? “It was love at first sight.” Funny how that lie fell so easily from her lips.
“Huh. Well, he fucks up in any way, he’ll answer to me.”
“You sound like a mob boss,” Sheridan accused with a nervous laugh. God, she sounded lame. Willow’s reaction made her more nervous than even her mother’s. Willow was sharp, savvy. Willow’s father, who negotiated the damn deal for the love of God—had taught her to trust no one. Valid, though jaded advice.
“Hmm, well I don’t want to see you get hurt, especially by that womanizing jackass. Oh, hey, by the way. So is it as big as a twenty-two ouncer?”
Sheridan’s cheeks flamed with embarrassment. “Ha! Like I’d ever tell.”
“Can’t even give me that, huh?” Willow laughed. “Hopefully he knows how to use it. He must if he got you to get married within two weeks of meeting him.”
God. He
so
knew how to use it. Very, very well. Not that she’d ever get the chance to experience him using it on her again.
“I don’t kiss and tell,” Sheridan said primly.
“Since when?” Willow sounded incredulous.
“Since I fell madly in love with Jared Quinn.”
There was a too-long moment of silence, so long Sheridan started to squirm. She could practically feel Willow’s brain churning with questions. “Is this for real, Sher? You can be honest with me. I won’t tell a soul, I swear.”
Sheridan collapsed on the bed, closing her eyes the moment her head hit the fluffy-as-a-cloud pillows. That Jared Quinn knew how to live. The man owned the very best in everything. “It’s real, I promise.”
She hated lying to her friend. And man, how she wished she could tell Willow the truth. But she couldn’t. She’d signed an agreement and she had to stick to it. It didn’t matter if it was her best friend. She owed it to Jared, and she owed it to herself to stick to the contract.
“You love him.”
Her eyes popping open, she stared at the ceiling. “Tremendously.”
“And he loves you.”
“So much, it’s sickening.” Sheridan rolled her eyes at herself.
“He’d better look at you like you’re the most beautiful woman in the world tonight. I see one crack in the illusion and I’m calling you out.”
Sheridan sat up quickly. “Please don’t make a scene at the restaurant, Will. This night is really important to Jared and I don’t want anything to mess it up.”
“Chill. I wouldn’t call you out in public. I’m sure this night is very important to the both of you, being your first appearance as a married couple and all.” Willow sighed. “I wish you would’ve at least had a reception. Let me throw a party for you. Oh, I know, let’s do a belated wedding shower. We can all buy you trashy lingerie and get you drunk. Then you can tell us how fantastic Jared is in bed.”
Okay, that last sentence made her nervous. The last thing she wanted to talk about was how great Jared was in bed. “I don’t want you to have to go to all that trouble.” And all the trashy lingerie would go to waste.
“I want to. Sounds fun. I’ll see you later at the restaurant, okay? You’d better be wearing something amazing.”
“I’m nervous about it. Can I send you a picture of the dress so you can tell me if it’s awful or not?”
“I’m sure it’s gorgeous but yes, send me a pic. Toodles.”
Sheridan went back to the bathroom, new iPhone in hand an unexpected gift from Jared. She snapped a pic, texted the photo to Willow, and waited anxiously for her answer.
Freaking amazing, I’m sure Jared loves it
was Willow’s reply.
Crap. She really, really hoped Jared would love it. She wanted his approval. Didn’t want to look like a world-class screw-up on their first night out together, especially at Charlie Monroe’s restaurant. The owner of the Hawks was volatile, especially when it came to his team. One wrong move and Jared might feel the wrath.
The night had to be perfect. She had to be on her game.
She didn’t have a choice.
…
Jared paced the living room, glancing at his watch yet again. Women. What the hell was taking Sheridan so long? They needed to leave. Soon. If they were late, Charlie would have his ass. And Coach Walsh would be standing right behind him, ready to finish off whatever Charlie left over.
His coach had ridden him hard the last few days. His shoulder was killing him, not that he’d tell a soul. And that damn Flynn Foley was launching balls like they were nothing, throwing them farther with a neat little spin. It was fucking killing Jared, watching that go down.
And Jim Walsh freaking knew it.
He was tired of their concern. Tired of seeing it in their faces, hearing it in their voices. They already prepped him that he wasn’t going to play much on Sunday. It was a preseason game, so that was the tactic they usually took, but he wanted to play. Fuck, he
needed
to play. He needed a win that weekend. Not just on the field but off as well.
“How do I look?”
Sheridan’s sweet voice pushed him out of his thoughts and he turned, going completely still as he drank her in.
The dress was short. Strapless. And appeared to be completely covered in gold sequins. They matched the color of her hair, hell, even the color of her eyes, making her look as if she glowed. Her hair was down, which he preferred, cascading in effortless waves down her back and his ring flashed on her finger as she waved a hand at him. “It’s bad, huh?”
He slowly shook his head. “Definitely not bad.”
“Is it too tight? Too short?”
Yes and yes but he loved it. Though he wasn’t sure if he wanted anyone else to see her in that dress. “You look…” He was at a loss for words.
“Stupid? Too much gold? Hookerish?”
Okay, she was stressing out for absolutely no reason. “Hot,” he finished with a slight smile.
“Oh.” Her cheeks turned pink, which he thought was cute as hell. “Thank you.”
“How do
I
look?” He held out his arms. He wore black trousers and a white dress shirt, open at the collar. He’d thought about wearing a suit but knew he’d be uncomfortable. Contemplated throwing on a tie but thought,
the hell with it
.
“Good.” She cleared her throat, her gaze gobbling him up. “Great.”
The heat in her eyes was answer enough. Despite the fake marriage deal, they had chemistry brewing between them. There was no denying it. “Are you ready to go?”
She nodded, all that pretty, golden hair sliding across her bare shoulders. As she approached him, he caught a shiny glint on her skin and realized she must’ve sprayed herself with some of that shimmery stuff women liked to use. He’d noticed it before on other women, had never really cared one way or the other about it.
For whatever reason, he was filled with the sudden urge to see all that glittery shine up close and personal.
They left the house, slipping inside the limo that waited for them. Her nervousness was noticeable and he wished he could reassure her. They hadn’t seen each other much since the wedding ceremony and oddly enough, he felt more uncomfortable with her now than he had a few days ago when they talked at her studio.
It was…weird. Knowing she was his wife. That she wore his ring and bore his name and lived in his house. Despite it being fake, he had someone else to consider now. A beautiful, sexy woman who tempted him the more he looked at her. Probably because he knew how good it was between them, yet he couldn’t have her.
Crazy.
The limo pulled out of the circular drive and onto the road, headed south toward downtown Carmel, where Charlie’s new restaurant was located, not far from Sheridan’s gallery. Hundreds of people were expected that night. He hoped like hell there wasn’t going to be a bunch of paparazzi there, but he knew that was wishful thinking.
Glancing in Sheridan’s direction, he noticed she stared out the window, a forlorn expression on her face. She looked like she was being dragged to her death.
Scrubbing a hand over his face, he asked, “Are you all right?”
Sheridan flashed him a shaky smile. “I’m fine.”
Hell. Even her voice trembled. Reaching across the bench seat of the limo, he grabbed her hand, earning him a startled glance. “Are you nervous?”
“Of course, I am.” She rolled her eyes, her slender, cold fingers clutching around his. “This is our first appearance as a married couple. We have to look like we’re…in love.”
He studied her. She looked damn pretty in the short, strapless, sparkly dress. Though it also made him want to grab a blanket and cover her completely. She had a great body, there was no denying it. Tiny waist, perfect breasts that weren’t overblown, a look he really didn’t like anyway. And then there was her ass…
Well. He was an ass man, always had been. And hers was pretty spectacular.
Those golden brown eyes were wide, fathomless, and the expression on her face was clear as day.
She was scared out of her ever-lovin’ mind.
“I have an idea.” He drew his thumb across the top of her hand and she gasped. “First, you’re going to have to stop reacting like that every single time I touch you.”
“I—I’m not used to it. You touching me.”
“Well, you need to get used to it. I’m your
husband.
” He touched the giant diamond that glittered on her ring finger, smoothing the pad of his thumb over the top of the cool stone. She inhaled sharply, her obvious reaction pissing him off. “How do you expect everyone to believe we’re together if you’re going to keep acting like this?”
Sheridan pressed her lips together. “I’m sorry. I can’t help myself.”
“You need to relax.” He paused. “I think I know how to help with that.”
“By all means, please show me,” she said, the tiniest bit of sarcasm edging her voice.
That meager display of defiance sort of turned him on, sick bastard that he was.