Accidentally Married on Purpose: A Love and Games Novel Page 17

  Tyler’s hand clenched around his neck. He’d never known his old man to lie, but…

  “How can you say that?” he asked. “Dad, it was the lessons you paid for and the contacts you had that got me here. And hey, I’m grateful. Thanks to you, I’m living both our dreams, and I’m doing better than I ever imagined. That’s for damn sure. But I don’t get how you can stand here and say this isn’t what you wanted. This is exactly the life you pushed me toward.”

  Awkward silence fell, and Tyler winced. He’d tried to contain it, but the words had just come out. Here he was busting his ass every day fulfilling a dream his father instilled in him, and the man acted as if he’d missed a memo. His dad made a rough sound in his throat, and releasing a breath, Tyler cracked his knuckles and faced his old man.

  Blue eyes stared at him under bushy brows. “Son, you need to know I’m proud as hell of you. I saw that spark in you, the same spark I once had, and I encouraged it. I admit I never expected it to amount to all this”—he held out his hand—“but we’re thrilled you achieved your goals. That’s all I wanted, for you to succeed in a career that you obviously had a God-given gift for.” Tyler’s shoulders sagged a bit in relief, until his dad added, “But success can be fleeting. More than that, it can be lonely. That’s why I hoped you’d find the same happiness in life, in marriage, that I have.”

  Grasping his ball cap, Tyler tugged it off and shoved his hand through his hair. He scratched the side of his jaw, twisted the cap around, and returned it to his head. But he couldn’t look his old man in the eyes.

  “How…”

  He squeezed his eyes shut and coughed. Could he actually ask him this? They’d always told each other anything. Total open-door policy. But even while everything inside Tyler screamed for an answer, would asking it gut his dad?

  Opening his eyes, he saw his father’s mouth curved in a small, understanding smile. He nodded once, subtly, and Tyler said, “You still feel that way, even with Mom…?”

  He didn’t need to finish the thought for his dad to understand.

  “Absolutely,” he replied, voice filled with conviction. He put a hand on Tyler’s shoulder. “I never once felt like I missed out. Yeah, things got hard earlier than expected. We lived the sickness a lot more than the health. But she’s my sunshine. My angel. The undisputed love of my life. Earlier, you said you were living both of our dreams. And I still wonder now and then about Nashville, what would’ve happened had I gone like I planned. At one time, I wanted that almost more than anything in the world.”

  Tyler caught the almost and swallowed hard.

  Dad looked him straight in the eye. “That would’ve been a heck of a journey. You know I love me some music…but son, I love your mother more. A life with her was always my dream.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Tyler laughed humorlessly and tossed his phone onto the bed. Ridiculous. One article turned his entire life upside down and, almost one month later, another one set it to rights. At least musically. Along with the Exclusive First Listen of Blue’s new album, Tammy Paxton sang Tyler’s praises today on the magazine website, not so subtly tooting her own horn. Being in love did make him a better writer, she claimed.

  Singling out “Rain Dance” for its “vivid imagery of the early stages of love, when everything is new and beautiful and exciting as hell,” she’d gone on to say that their third album was the best to date, and credited Tyler’s recent marriage for the change. “Blue’s early work was full of fun and flirtation, but it lacked that vital core of truth. Now it has it in spades. We at Country Music Weekly congratulate Mr. and Mrs. Blue and wish them many years of happiness.”

  Many years…or two days. That’s all they really had left.

  Where in the hell did an entire month go? Just over three weeks ago, he’d woken up in his hotel room hungover and in the middle of what he thought was the worst mistake of his life. Now he couldn’t imagine anything worse than leaving. But he had to. He had a job waiting, an album to promote, and an agreement to keep. Despite what his dad had said, marriage wasn’t the goal for everyone.

  At first, the old man’s words had rocked his belief system. How could Tyler have misread his father so badly? He hadn’t lost himself or given anything up. He’d married his dream. But that didn’t really change anything for Tyler. Music might not have been his dad’s dream, but it sure as hell was his. It’s all he’d ever known.

  More than that, music was Tyler’s life, and it was no life for Sherry. She deserved more than months on the road, trapped on a tour bus and a different hotel every night. She had a new budding career of her own. The Humane Society and Hall of Fame events had generated tons of buzz, and a huge, soon-to-open bridal shop had already contacted her, wanting help planning their launch. Now wasn’t the time for her to leave.

  Just as he couldn’t let marriage split his focus now, Tyler refused to get in the way of Sherry’s dream. Her goals.

  And a relationship, much less a marriage, couldn’t survive if they were always apart.

  Tyler slumped to Angelle’s bed, a hand scrubbing across his face. God, he was exhausted. He’d put it all out there musically, writing three songs that were in fact his best yet. He’d lived as a husband…though not biblically…and formed a real friendship. Whatever else she wasn’t, Sherry was his friend. He cared about her. Wanted the best for her. Hell, maybe even loved her.

  Elvis darted through the crack in the door and hopped onto his legs. “Hey, boy.”

  Picking up the puppy’s soft weight, he fell back on the mattress, Elvis planted on his chest. “I’m gonna miss you, too. Our daily walks helped me think, yes they did.” Laughing, he rubbed behind a fluffy ear. “Your mama’s even got me speaking baby talk.” Warm puppy breath hit his chin and the dog’s upper lip twitched. “You gotta take care of her for me, okay? You’re gonna be the man of the house again. Don’t let any strangers inside; attack any burglars.” He thought for a moment. “Attack any dates she brings home, too.”

  The very real possibility—no, guarantee, that Sherry would be dating again hit him like a brick. She was too beautiful, too lovely, too perfect to stay single. She’d go on eventually and find someone else to give her the fairy tale, and he’d be left alone. Like he wanted.

  He looked into Elvis’s eyes and scratched under the dog’s chin.

  “Knock, knock.”

  Glancing over, Tyler watched Sherry slide the door fully open and smile. The sight never stopped slaying him. She shifted her weight and shoved her hands in her back pockets. “So, I was thinking…” Her gaze fell on his open suitcase and the light vanished from her eyes. “You’re packing already?”

  He almost laughed. In many ways, they were totally compatible. A similar sense of humor, shared interests, and off the charts chemistry. But Tyler’s need for order, and Sherry’s need to wing it, was definitely not one of those compatible areas.

  “Just getting a head start,” he said. “You know me. I never wait to the last minute.” He winked to show he was teasing, but she didn’t respond. She nipped at her bottom lip, and he pushed to his elbows. “You were saying you’d thought of something?”

  “Oh. Right.” Sherry leaned her back against the wall and raked her fingers through her hair, seeming to debate for a minute before squaring her shoulders. “I’ve been thinking Arianne might need some help while you’re on the road. Setting up venues, promoting, things like that. Maybe I could come with you for a while.” Her gaze flittered to the far wall. “It’d probably be good experience for me.”

  A selfish warmth hit Tyler’s chest, even as pressure built behind his eyes. She wanted to come with him. Leave her family and friends, put a pause on her budding career, all to travel the world by his side. And God, did he want her there. Just the thought of waking up to her easy smiles, hearing her infectious laugh, made him excited for the tour. He’d been dreading it every calendar day that passed, knowing it meant saying good-bye. That wasn’t fair to his guys, to Charlie.

 
But if she came with them…

  No. Tyler squeezed his eyes shut. What kind of man would he be if he said yes? A selfish one, that’s what. Sherry deserved better than him and the life he could give. From what he could tell, she’d always put the needs of her family and friends above her own. This was her time now. Saying yes, letting her come with him, would mean letting her choose his dream over hers.

  Staying in Magnolia Springs was for the best.

  “I’m pretty sure Arianne’s got it covered,” he replied.

  When her shoulders slumped, Tyler reached a new level of self-loathing. But he convinced himself he was doing the right thing. Relationships couldn’t last without roots. If Sherry joined him on the road, they’d only be prolonging the inevitable. He was far gone in this girl already, and he saw how she watched him. The only shot he had of not completely decimating her was ending it now. A clean break, just like they’d agreed.

  “Besides, you don’t need experience,” he added, hiding away his pain. Camouflaging emotions was a necessary survival skill in the entertainment industry. “You’ve got clients coming to you.”

  He willed her to look at him, so she could see his forced smile and they could pretend everything was fine. But when her hazel eyes turned his way and locked on him with pooled hurt, breath whooshed from his lungs.

  Sherry’s gaze tracked his face, eyes narrowed in search. Maybe she was looking for assurance. Maybe she hoped to discover how he felt about her. Tyler stared back, expressionless even though it killed him, and watched his beautiful wife’s face shut down.

  Unable to stand it any longer, especially when everything in him wanted to retract his words and beg her to come with him, Tyler pulled a true dickhead move. Stretching his arms above his head, he yawned big and fake. “Man, I’m beat.” He rolled his shoulders and sighed heavily. “I think I’ll turn in early. Get some rest for the parade tomorrow.”

  She nodded once and wrapped her arms around herself. But still she didn’t budge.

  In the same breath he wanted her to leave, he also needed her close. Was desperate to soak up as much time with her as he could. So even though he should’ve been pushing her away, discouraging a greater attachment, he asked, “Are you still going to watch from the stands?” She nodded again, this time with a forced smile, and the tightness in his chest eased a fraction. “Good. I’ll be looking for you.”

  She pushed away from the wall. “I even got a new dress for the ball,” she told him. “Need to wow the press for our last hurrah, right?”

  Tyler winced at the slight edge to her voice. “Right.”

  Fingers drummed against her thigh as she hesitated by the opened door. “All right then, I guess I’ll let you get some rest.” When he didn’t argue, she looked away. Raising her voice an octave, she called, “Coming, boy?”

  Elvis sagged against his chest. He’d been glued to Tyler’s side ever since he’d arrived, sleeping in his bed, cuddling on his lap on the sofa. Sherry shook her head softly and mumbled, “Traitor.”

  A fluffy white tail ticked in response, and Sherry raised her eyes to his. “Night, music man.”

  He hated that it sounded so final. But he guessed, in a way, it was. “Good night, sugar.”

  …

  Well, you wanted a clear sign. I think you got it.

  Sherry closed the bathroom door and leaned against it. Lord, she was an idiot. She’d gone into his room, completely believing she was prepared for any outcome. Of course, she’d hoped for the best. Hell, she’d even expected it. But she was a big girl.

  If Tyler had said yes, then that would’ve been awesome. She’d have gladly stood at her next book club meeting and proclaimed she’d been wrong. Happily ever after really did exist outside fiction. And, if he’d said no, well, that would’ve been okay, too. It would’ve hurt, sure. But it wasn’t like she was in love with the guy.

  Swallowing hard, Sherry rubbed the left side of her chest, soothing the throb that screamed, Liar.

  Tyler was wonderful, and she cared a lot about him. She enjoyed his company, liked the way he made her feel. Loved the sound of his laugh and the strum of his guitar. Without his stealth cleaning operations, the clutter on her counters would return, and she’d have to hide all her shoes from Elvis—he liked to chew on or pee in them when he was angry, and he’d be pissed when Tyler left. Her baby had totally chosen sides, and it was not hers.

  But those things didn’t equal love.

  Love was pure passion and complete insanity. It was terrifying, intense, and fickle as hell. It made her second-guess her every thought, every move, and held her brain hostage. It didn’t feel comfortable, peaceful, or tender. Not in her experience, anyway.

  Tyler made her tummy flip and her skin prick, but he also made her laugh. He danced in the rain and taught her how to play guitar. They had fun. Just sitting on the sofa with him made her feel safe and warm and happy, and watching him with Elvis filled her with joy. Sure, they had passion in spades, and the way he made her feel was incredible.

  But again, that wasn’t love. At least not the sort that existed outside of fiction. It wasn’t sustainable in real life.

  Was it?

  Beneath Sherry’s palm, her heart lurched, and she shoved away from the door. Ugh, why couldn’t she have just kept her dang trap shut?

  Sliding over to the sink, she turned the spigot, needing a shot of cold reality. As tepid water flowed over her hands, she lifted her eyes to the beveled mirror. A neat, ordered row of Post-it notes floated before her vision.

  Sugar,

  Do you know, I’ve laughed more since I met you than ever before?

  You always make me smile.

  How do you do it?

  Tyler

  That nugget was from last week. Pressure mounted behind her eyes as Sherry shifted her gaze, this time landing on a note from a few days prior.

  Sweet lips,

  You look way too good today.

  For the sake of our rules, please go change…

  Just kidding. See you tonight.

  Tyler

  On and on they went. Twenty-eight days’ worth of notes, each filled with flirtation and friendship, and a strong dose of desire. But that’s all it ever was. Staring at them now, a stupid tear leaking past her lashes, Sherry felt ridiculous.

  These notes didn’t mean anything. Not to him. They were just Tyler being Tyler. The soft look he’d sometimes get when he thought she wasn’t looking? It was probably just dust in his eyes. It wasn’t affection. Or, if it was, it wasn’t enough. She’d read too much into everything. Let herself believe and get her hopes up. Whatever was causing the erratic pulse in her chest—affection, love, or simply a huge, honking crush—it was all on her end. For Tyler, this had only ever been a job. Another role to play, a masquerade.

  And she’d fallen for the game.

  What a lovesick dope.

  She’d waltzed into his room tonight, sure as shit, willing to put her heart on the line and give her marriage a real shot. And he wasn’t even interested. That speech he’d given on stage about being changed really had been for the press. And she’d lapped it up right along with them.

  At least with Ben, and every other cheater she’d ever dated, she’d had her anger to strengthen her. Heartache was bearable when you knew you were better off without them. But Tyler hadn’t cheated. He’d been faithful to her and home every night, without ever getting anything in return. He was kind, smart, talented, and genuinely good. An amazing man who simply didn’t want her.

  She almost rather he had cheated.

  Sherry hung her head as heartache washed over her anew. She hugged it, wallowed in it, let it saturate her pores. This was what she always did. Fell for men who didn’t love her back. It was her thing. Lord, it was her thing. Shaking her head in self-loathing, she gripped the basin in front of her and opened her eyes.

  There were two ways she could play this one going forward. She could end it now. Go and stay at Cane’s for the next two days, say to hell
with the parade and the fancy ball, and hide out until Tyler left Magnolia Springs. Or she could savor the short time she had left with him. Go to the parade, play the role of doting wife, and wear a dress designed to make him swallow his tongue. Then, after the last photo snapped and the champagne was gone, she could take Tyler back to the suite the parade organization had gotten him…and seduce her husband.

  Yeah, she’d be breaking a rule, but dammit, they were her rules. She wouldn’t beg Tyler to stay or push for more when he clearly wanted out. But she could take one night for herself, a memory to cling to when he eventually left her.

  A night, this time, she fully intended to remember.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “You seriously haven’t heard it yet?”

  Sherry met her sister’s gaze in the mirror and shook her head. “Not the biggest country fan, remember?”

  Colby pulled a face. “Uh, yeah, but this is your husband we’re talking about, and the freaking song is about you.” She sighed and sat on the bed, a mock scowl on her face. “Both of you hussies have songs written about you. Where’s my damn song?”

  Angelle laughed as she held another set of earrings against the red dress on the hanger. She’d yet to find the perfect pair for Sherry to wow the crowd. What her bestie didn’t know was that she was also trying to wow Tyler. At least enough to bed him.

  “My song will never be on international airwaves, though,” Angie tossed back. “Or inspiring a bazillion hits on YouTube.”

  Sherry purposefully kept her eyes averted. She wasn’t in the mood to force another smile. Nope, she hadn’t heard Blue’s latest single, and she had no wish to change that. Not until after he was long gone at least. If the song really was about her like everyone was claiming, listening would only make today harder. She was barely holding it together as it was.

  Besides, she might have a song…but she didn’t have the guy.

  Colby, of course, was still in the dark about Sherry’s marriage. Angelle believed everything was now hunky-dory. Well, things were neither hunky, nor dory, and quite honestly, she was this close to an ugly cry—but losing it wasn’t a luxury she could afford. Sherry Robicheaux-Blue was a fighter, and when she made up her mind, she gave it everything she had. Right now, that meant keeping her cool, donning her best bra, and looking hotter than hell.