Accidentally Married on Purpose: A Love and Games Novel Page 13

  Soft lamplight fell on Tyler when she opened the door, and she watched, mouth drier than the Sahara, as he reached back and tugged off his shirt. His jeans already discarded, he stood in the middle of her bedroom in nothing but a pair of plaid boxers. She must’ve squeaked, or perhaps moaned, because his head whipped up, and they shared a long, tense look.

  “If you’d rather, I can sleep on the floor…”

  He bunched the fabric of his tee in his hand, and she followed his gaze to a pallet of blankets and throw pillows near the foot of the bed. She smiled, touched, and shook her head. As soft as those blankets were, he’d be miserable come morning.

  “That’s silly.” Glancing back, her gaze fell on his smooth, muscled chest. But it sure as hell would be safer. “We’re adults, right?”

  The corner of his mouth quirked. “Of course.”

  After another one of those dang delicious pauses, Tyler tossed his shirt in the corner and turned down the comforter.

  Sherry forced herself to look away. As she walked to the dresser for pajamas, sheets rustled behind her. Tyler sighed in what sounded like contentment at the eight-hundred-thread count Egyptian. Squeezing her eyes shut, she threw a mini-mental pity party. This was going to be the longest night of her life. With a sigh of her own, she opened them again and examined the contents of her drawer.

  Skimpy or grandma?

  Honestly, she didn’t own much of the latter. Demure was Angelle’s department—but she couldn’t very well ask her friend for a loan. Settling instead for a thin tank and shorts combo, by far her least revealing option, Sherry spun around and found Tyler watching her.

  “I’m just gonna”—she pointed toward the closet—“head in there to change.”

  Silently, his eyes tracked her movement until she closed the small door behind her. As her clothes fell to the floor, she gave herself a pep talk. She could do this. They were adults, and if she couldn’t go eight hours sleeping next to a man—albeit an extremely hot one who also happened to be her husband—without having sex with him, then she had a serious problem. Tugging up her short shorts, she nodded firmly in resolve.

  Tyler smiled as she exited, and she met it with one of her own. “Okay if I turn off the light?” she asked, padding across the hardwood.

  “Go for it.”

  The moment she flicked off the lamp, she regretted it. What was it about losing one sense that made the rest so much sharper? The room felt smaller, more intimate, and the sound of his breathing filled the air. Or was that hers? She put a hand on the bed and climbed beneath the sheet, the soft cotton whispering across the bare skin of her legs.

  As she fixed the bedding around her, their arms touched.

  She shivered, and the movement brushed her calf against his. The dark curly hair of his leg tickled, and her belly dipped. Tyler didn’t move a muscle, didn’t make a sound, but she knew exactly where he was. His body heat pressed against her entire right side. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she imagined the sliver of mattress between them pulsating with energy.

  Energy and memories.

  The rasp of his hand sliding up her leg. A low chuckle bathing her ear when she squirmed. The graze of his fingertips finding the sensitive spot beneath her knee. His green eyes blazing as he moved over her. “You feel so good, sugar…”

  “No romance in the house!”

  Sherry slapped a hand over her mouth, mortified at her outburst. And although she couldn’t see it, she could swear she heard Tyler grin.

  The wall of heat shifted as he turned onto his hip, the bed dipping and sheets sliding. “There’s an entire range of options to explore that have zero to do with romance.”

  His voice was gravelly and so close to her ear that wisps of hair moved with his breath. She shivered again. “That may be true,” she replied, “but there’s no way in hell we’d ever stop.”

  “We won’t know until we try.”

  It was clear Tyler was teasing, but it was equally obvious he was waiting for a signal. All she had to do was hint that she was open to explore those options, take back that ridiculous request she’d made earlier, and he’d pounce like a lion. He never technically promised, she remembered with a bite of her lip. And while the prospect was tempting—so very, very tempting—her sense of self-preservation was stronger than she thought.

  “Tell me about your parents,” she whispered, almost laughing as he fell onto his back with a groan. She felt his frustration, and she wouldn’t blame him one bit if he didn’t answer her question. In fact, it seemed as though he wouldn’t.

  Then, “What do you want to know?”

  Releasing a grateful sigh, she turned onto her side and put her arm beneath her head. “You said your father is into music?” She felt more than saw his nod, and she asked, “Is he any good?”

  Tyler shifted again to face her, and the scattered light from her blinds lit his answering smile. “He’s incredible. Taught me everything I know. His garage band was the first one I was in.”

  “Did he ever try and make it in Nashville, too?”

  That smile fell from his mouth. Sherry hated to see it go, but she knew it meant they were finally getting somewhere. Her husband was a man of secrets. Something told her they weren’t dangerous, like skeletons of drug abuse or jail time, but deep and personal. Painful. And for her to have a shot of getting to know the real Tyler Blue, the man not the star, this was where she needed to start.

  “He never had the chance,” he told her.

  His voice was different. An edge was there that wasn’t before, and she bit her tongue to keep from asking what had happened. Instead, she waited him out, the shadows on his jaw flexing, until he eventually continued.

  “Dad’s a writer, too. His band performed straight originals, and they played every local fair from Lafayette to Biloxi. They had a good-sized following; fans came to events just for them. Mom suggested he head out to Nashville, make a real go of it, and see what would happen. So, they started stockpiling cash. I even gave up my allowance to help the cause,” he said with a laugh, but that hard edge was still there. “Six months later, everything was set. Dad had given notice at his job, Mom was making plans to take a vacation from hers, and soon school would be out for summer. But at the end of March, a couple weeks before my thirteenth birthday, we found out Mom had breast cancer.”

  Sherry’s breath caught.

  “It was nasty, too,” Tyler said, shaking his head. “She battled it for five years. Of course, Dad gave up his plans. Nashville was forgotten while they went to doctor’s appointments and he worked extra hours to pay the bills. I even started doing odd jobs for relatives to pitch in. I went to school, went to work, and then played music in my room. Dad would stay up late, after taking care of Mom, and we’d jam together. It was our release.” He paused. “Our escape.”

  Sliding her hand across the mattress, Sherry searched for Tyler’s hand. Finding his arm, she squeezed his bicep and scooted closer. “Your parents sound like they’re incredibly strong.”

  He drew a breath and put his hand over hers. “They are. Mom…she, she’s a fighter. Time and again, she kicked cancer’s ass. Always with that smile on her face. It reminds me of yours, actually.” The tenderness in his voice as he said that made Sherry’s chest ache.

  “She has more faith in her little pinkie than anyone I’ve ever met,” he continued with a slight shake of his head. “We thought it was finally over, that she’d finally won. Dad took her on a cruise and they celebrated their second chance at life. I’m glad they at least had that.”

  A muscle in his arm jumped beneath her fingers, and Sherry winced in anticipation. “Did you know there’s a link between breast and ovarian cancer?” he continued. “A cruel joke life plays on a few women who’ve already given it all?” His voice was bitter and harsh, and tears welled in her eyes. “Turns out, Mom’s stomach pain wasn’t gas or IBS. But the amazing thing…she still hasn’t given up. This time, there is no cure. There’s no hope, other than keeping her comfortable u
ntil the end, but she fights every damn day anyway. And she refuses to let any of us stop living, either.”

  Tyler twisted onto his back and tugged Sherry with him. Laying her head against his chest, she skimmed her fingers down his arms, comforting him in the only way she could. Listening.

  “One time, right after we got the last diagnosis, I passed on opening for Brad Paisley. It would’ve been our first big tour, a breakthrough chance, really. The guys didn’t even blink. They understood. Mom was the one who didn’t. She ripped me a new one when she found out. Told me if she ever heard of me staying on the sidelines again because of her, she’d fly out to Nashville and give me what for.” He chuckled and brought his hand up to Sherry’s hair, gliding his fingers through it as he said, “I don’t doubt for a second that she would.”

  “What about your dad?” she asked after a moment, wanting to keep him talking. “What does he think about your success?”

  “He’s proud as hell. It was an old buddy of his, one of his former bandmates, who got my foot in the door. He’d ended up going on to Nashville as they’d planned and made it as a songwriter. As soon as I graduated high school, I took my father’s dream and it became my own. With his help, I wrote songs for other artists while playing covers at local bars. Then I met Charlie, got a demo together, and got damn lucky.”

  “Not luck.” She closed her eyes at the lulling feel of his fingers in her hair. “You’re a hell of an artist.”

  Tyler tapped her under the chin and she looked up. “And how would you know?”

  “I may’ve downloaded your albums,” she confessed with a smile. She’d been listening to them non-stop, surprised at how much she enjoyed them. Maybe knowing the artist on an intimate level made a difference. “You’re awesome, Tyler.”

  The smile he gave her was both humble and sad. “You should hear my dad.” His fingers resumed their path through her hair, and Sherry resettled her cheek on his chest. “He’s a hell of a musician, and he would’ve made it, too. Everyone says so. He just got dealt a crap deck.” Tyler’s chest expanded with a deep breath. “I know he loves my mom, and he has no regrets about staying behind. But when Mom got sick, he shoved his dreams to the background. That’s why my career is so important to me. Why I asked you to do this insane scheme. I’m not just doing it for me, you know? I’m living both our dreams.”

  Sherry pressed a kiss over his thumping heart. She did know. In fact, she better understood everything after listening to his story. Who he was as a man. Why he was willing to go through all this craziness for his career. Why music seemed like such an integral part of his identity. It was his salvation.

  They didn’t talk again after that, but she didn’t move, either. Tyler’s fingers continued their trail through her hair and down her back, and she held him tight in her arms. Comforting him. Reassuring him.

  Caring for him.

  That was another revelation out of the darkness of the night. Lust wasn’t the only thing fueling her desire. Their connection went much deeper than budding friendship. Sherry genuinely cared about the man she married…and, if she wasn’t extremely careful during the next month, she could be in serious danger of falling for him, too.

  Chapter Twelve

  Robicheaux’s was a lot like the family who owned it. Laidback, welcoming, and stuffed with energy. Tonight was the St. Tammany Humane Society event, and Magnolia Springs came out in droves. This was Sherry’s element, and he loved watching her in it. She was totally in control; no problem shook her confidence. When a situation arose, she simply cocked an apron-clad hip, pointed a black-painted nail, and said how to fix it. People hopped to her bidding. Even him.

  Her wide, gorgeous smile was the culprit. It was pure magic. Neighbors lined the parking lot, eager to empty their pockets, all so she’d shine that beam on them. And when she did, they walked away pleased as hell. Tyler had been to many charitable events in the past few years, but he’d never seen anything like this. Again, her enthusiasm was contagious, infecting everyone who walked through that front door. And as a result, the shelter was raking in serious cash.

  Tyler had made his donation anonymously. Tonight, he’d enlist her opinion on other local organizations to support. For the next year or so, this was his community too, and he wanted to do his part. Earlier, he’d also made a call to step up his contributions to Ovarian Cancer National Alliance and Susan G. Komen. Seeing Sherry’s giving nature in action convicted him. He already gave plenty and often, but he could always do more. Hopefully one day, women would no longer go through what his mother had.

  A gray-haired woman snapped him out of his thoughts. As she shoved a roll of bills in the tip jar on the bar, she studied him over her spectacles. Tyler set down the keg from the back and smiled, wiping his hand on the towel tucked in the front of jeans.

  “Can I get you anything, ma’am?”

  “You that Nashville fella who married our Sherry?” she asked, pointing a gnarled finger.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Funny how much pleasure it brought admitting that aloud.

  “Thought so.” Her smile was smug as she took a long sip of her dirty martini. After setting the glass on the mahogany bar top, she said, “That girl’s heart is bigger than Texas.” Her eyes narrowed. “And it’s as tender as a baby’s butt. You take care with it, you hear?”

  The advice was nothing new. He’d lost count how many customers had shaken his hand, congratulated him and shared their favorite zany Sherry story, then issued a protective warning.

  Weird thing was that after the other night in her bedroom, Tyler wondered if he might be the one in danger.

  He still couldn’t believe what he’d shared. Other than his family, only his band and manager knew the details of his past. He couldn’t risk his mom’s struggle becoming a headline. But there was just something about Sherry. Yeah, he could trust her. More than that, she genuinely cared. She listened without pushing. Empathized rather than pitied. And went out of her way to look out for him.

  As always happens when he’s in the zone, he’d forgotten to eat dinner last night. Writing consumed him, and with three additional songs to produce for the new album, food rarely made the cut. Around nine o’clock he’d raised his stiff neck to pop it, the right word choice eluding him, and found a sandwich on the table. A sticky note attached to the plate ordered him to: Eat!

  Tyler smiled at the memory. In another life, she’d be perfect for him. Sherry was exactly the kind of woman he’d want by his side. Downright crazy, absolutely no filter, just wild and fun with the biggest heart of anyone he’d ever met—and somehow a smile even bigger. Whenever she was around, the constant knot that lived between his shoulder blades vanished. Being with her reminded Tyler of how life used to be. How he used to be, before the fame. Before his mom got sick.

  Catching her eye across the restaurant, he winked, and a pink stain crept up her cheeks. Another thing that made her perfect? She was adorable and sexy as hell. She lit him up in ways no woman ever had. Keeping his distance was killing him. Especially after a night of holding her in his arms. Connecting emotionally, not just physically.

  Who knew simply talking, holding, sharing life, could mean so much?

  The ding of bells snapped her gaze to the door. An expression of complete shock transformed her features, and Tyler turned, wondering what was wrong. A dude walked in, arm slung around a cute blonde, and when he noticed Sherry a foot away, froze in place.

  “Aw, crap.”

  At the sound of Colby’s voice, Tyler tore his focus away from the door. His sister-in-law stood beside him, hip bumped up against the bar, and arms folded tight against her chest.

  “Who’s that?” he asked, turning back and watching as Sherry’s surprise gave way to unbridled hurt. A rush of protectiveness clenched his fists. Whoever the guy was, he needed to go.

  “That would be Ben-the-two-timing-ex,” Colby replied with a sigh. “And that chick beside him? She’d be the other woman.”

  Tyler hopped
the counter before she finished speaking.

  Sherry had hinted at being burned in the past. Based on her Mr. Dull plan, and her need for their frustrating rules, he knew that betrayal cut deep. For the first time since their dinner at Cane’s, Tyler could understand Colby’s decision.

  In the middle of making that salad, she’d asked if Tyler’s lawyers did a background check on their family. When he admitted as much, she’d begged him never to reveal what he’d learned. Evidently, Sherry’s siblings had spent years protecting her from their dad’s infidelity. Hiding the details like she was fragile and unable to handle the truth. At the time, Tyler had been annoyed. It was as if he and Colby knew two different women. In his eyes, Sherry was a hell of a lot stronger than her family gave her credit for. From what he saw, she could handle anything.

  But now, during her big moment, was not the time to test that theory.

  Sidestepping customers, brushing past fans with a distracted smile, Tyler walked forward with a singular focus: comforting his wife. Shielding her from the man who once broke her heart. The line between her fairy tale and real life was blurring…but she was his. At least for the next couple years. And no one hurt his woman.

  The route he took put her ex in his direct path. Almost to Sherry’s side, Tyler glanced at the author of her pain and saw unmistakable longing on the man’s face. Jealousy burned his core.

  “What are you—?”

  Sherry’s question cut short as Tyler’s mouth crashed down. The whimper in her throat said she didn’t mind. It vibrated through him, and he clutched her close, her taste exploding on his tongue.

  They could pretend when they were alone. Lie to themselves about what this was between them. Hell, he could invent a million reasons why he’d stalked over and staked his claim here. But the truth lay behind the sound of her moan and Tyler’s answering groan.

  Kissing Sherry wasn’t about her damn rules.

  It wasn’t to save his career.