Accidentally Married on Purpose: A Love and Games Novel Page 3

  “Enjoy your stay, Ms. Robicheaux. I expect it’ll be filled with amusements.” Then the weird woman walked away, laughing softly under her breath.

  One thing was for sure. Las Vegas was proving to be anything but boring.

  When Sherry returned from the catering van with the last of the supplies, Blue’s concert was well under way. Muffled cheers and a dull rhythmic thump shook the walls of the hallway. A pass swung around her neck, and she knew most people in her place would at least take a peek at the stage. But honestly, she had zero interest. Country wasn’t her thing. And she was a woman on a mission.

  Her eyes locked on the wall clock as she rolled the catering cart into the green room. Time was not her friend. Blue’s concert tonight was a short set with an intimate crowd of a few thousand benefitting a local charity, an act she could definitely admire, but it meant she better haul butt. After her run-in with Ms. New York, she needed everything to be perfect when the band arrived.

  Carefully checking the room for unexpected company and thankfully finding none, she yanked out her iPhone, selected a playlist, and set it on the table. The familiar beat of her favorite song filled the air, and Sherry set to work. With a smile on her face and a wiggle in her step.

  Music was in her blood. Unlike Cane, she couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket and instruments hated her with a fierceness, but Sherry could move her body with the best of them. Her mama was a dancer once upon a time, and she’d enrolled Sherry in every dance class in which she expressed an interest. That is to say, all of them. One song bled into another as Sherry twirled, pranced, and swiveled her to-do list into submission.

  With a snazzy shuffle-ball-change, she restocked the silverware. A shimmy of her shoulders added flair as she topped off the jambalaya. And an elaborate mix of hip lifts, drops, and figure eights accompanied her adiosing a pile of crumbs and straightening out the tablecloth. She was so into the moves and the music playing on her phone that she actually failed to notice that the music elsewhere had stopped.

  That is, until the hair on the back of her neck tingled to life.

  Suddenly, the room surged with energy. Her pulse pounded in her ears. She didn’t need to turn around to know he was standing behind her. Most likely with a smirk at catching her impromptu belly dance.

  Smooth, girl. Real smooth.

  Sherry closed her eyes tight, too mortified to face him just yet. “Good show?” she asked.

  “The highlight of my night, that’s for sure.”

  Chills skimmed down her spine at the sound of his voice. Deep, rich, and full of the very mischief Tootsie had hinted at back home. The salon owner had said it in reference to Blue…but Sherry doubted even the famous singer had a voice as tempting as Tyler’s.

  Slowly, Sherry turned around. The devil in denim was leaning against the doorjamb, gaze glued to her ass. Or where her ass had been. His lips were curved in a crooked, boyish grin, and when his green eyes moved to hers, the true meaning of his answer became clear.

  Yep, he’d caught her performance all right. And he had enjoyed every gyrating second.

  Confidence rising, Sherry swirled her curvy hips in a slow, sultry circle, then ran her hands down her jean-clad thighs. “Shakira ain’t got nothing on these hips.”

  Tyler’s grin grew, and his eyes lit with amusement. Holy ovaries exploding. If Sherry had thought this man’s smirk was sexy, the power of his full-wattage smile about knocked her on her swiveling butt. The electric air between them intensified. Seconds stretched in silence. When he finally opened his mouth to speak, she expected a flirty comeback or a naughty sexual innuendo.

  Instead, he shocked the wit right out of her as he said, “Spend the weekend with me.”

  …

  “Say what?”

  The gorgeous brunette blinked up at him, clearly shocked. Frankly, so was Tyler. That request had come out of nowhere. But the more he thought about it, the more the idea of an incognito weekend thrilled him.

  “I’d like you to spend the weekend with me,” he said again, clearer this time, and with more conviction. Strolling forward, he realized he was actually nervous that she might say no. And wasn’t that ironic. Countless women had offered him something similar, hoping for the fantasy, some not even caring if it was only for one night, and Tyler had been the one to gently decline. As much as he hated being in that position, this was worse. Gauging the look in her eyes and wishing like hell he could decipher their secrets, he said, “Unless you already have plans.”

  Tomorrow was New Year’s Eve. Gorgeous women rarely spent that holiday alone. For all he knew, she’d come here with a boyfriend. The likelihood of that settled in his gut like a rock.

  “Nope. No plans.” Sherry’s lips quirked as if she found something funny. “Nothing concrete at least.”

  Relief unclenched his fists, and a rush of anticipation warmed his blood. This was what he needed. An entire weekend with someone who wanted nothing from him, other than his company. And what he presumed would be one hell of a night between the sheets. No expectations, no pressure, just fun. The exact opposite of a relationship.

  Arianne was upset about the article, but she’d just have to get over it. Blue’s records were selling like mad, and they were about to drop their next album. Well, once they completed the last song and added a few finishing touches. His credibility was fine, and the band’s future was bright. With or without a woman permanently planted at his side.

  But temporarily was a whole different matter.

  Reaching out, Tyler snagged Sherry’s hand in his. “So that’s a yes?”

  She nibbled her lip, and a soft pink colored her cheeks. Her gaze darted to the room crowding behind them. She was stalling. Disappointment crashed over him, an emotion he hadn’t experienced in quite some time.

  He wasn’t a fan.

  Tyler gave a small nod, fixing to let her off the hook and back to work. But just as he opened his mouth to say forget it, Sherry’s smile broke free, hitting him full force in the chest.

  “No,” she said. “That’s a hell yes.”

  Chapter Three

  Fluffing her hair in the hotel room mirror the next morning, Sherry tilted her glass to her lips and knocked back her mimosa. Room service seriously rocked. Another thing that rocked? Hot, mysterious roadies with a surprising romantic side. At least that’s what Sherry decided to call Tyler’s strange, secretive quirks. It was a heck of a lot better than believing that tiny voice in her brain, saying he was hiding something.

  Honestly, so what if he was hiding something. They weren’t building a relationship here. This was about fun, and they were both consenting adults. Even though it was weird that he’d disappeared right after he asked her to spend the weekend with him, only to return freshly showered after she’d packed up and practically written off their plans, she was all in. Maybe living on the road made him a bit dodgy. Maybe he had a James Bond complex. Maybe he picked up some weirdness from his equally secretive boss, who ended up being a no-show after the concert last night. All Sherry knew was that Tyler was exciting. He’d swept her off her feet with his flirtation and invitation, then shocked her right out of her shoes by not immediately whisking her back to his room. He also refused to tell her anything about what they were doing today, only that she should prepare for a day of adventure.

  One she had no doubt would end with a bang.

  Her tummy flipped, and she bounced on her toes. This would officially be the first time she aimed for a quick fling. Sure, she’d had them before, even claimed up, down, and sideways that was what she’d wanted—only to secretly hope for so much more. That was what happened with her ex, and he’d been the kick in the pants she’d needed. If she were going to change her fate, she’d need to change her type. Find a Mr. Boring. A cute/stuffy accountant type à la Will Trahan. And hot roadie or not, that was still her plan.

  But with chemistry like theirs, this was the perfect setup for a fling…and Sherry wanted to go out on a high note.

  Bring on t
he roadie!

  Her phone buzzed with a text on the granite counter, interrupting her girl power playlist. She snatched up the phone, expecting it to be Tyler, and rolled her eyes at Angelle’s message.

  Get in any trouble yet?

  Sherry tapped a fingernail on the screen, pondering how to reply. Anything she told her best friend would make it back to the woman’s fiancé. And anything Angie told Sherry’s brother, Cane, would most definitely circle back to Colby.

  Not yet, she typed with a wicked grin. But there’s still plenty of time. Tell my siblings they best gather bail money now. Don’t worry, you’ll be my one phone call.

  Sherry checked for lipstick on her teeth as she waited for a reply. It didn’t take long.

  I’ll be waiting eagerly for your call. Take lots of pics! Xoxo

  It was a sad day when she lost the ability to shock her loved ones.

  Smiling wide, Sherry sent her love back, and then locked her phone. The music was still paused, and the hotel room was quiet. Too quiet. But what if music drowned out Tyler’s knock at her door? That would seriously suck. She glanced in the mirror a final time, deciding she looked presentable—no eyeliner smudges, hair falling softly around her shoulders, jeans and sweater the perfect blend between dressy and casual—and then plopped onto the bed. Hopefully the hotel’s welcome binder would prove fascinating.

  Ankle bouncing, jostling the bed, Sherry turned the pages. The menu already thoroughly studied, she flipped to the section about the casino. Glossy photos of themed slot machines, western décor, and women in cowboy boots set off a flood of memories. Despite the heady buzz that ran in her veins and snapped in the air between her and Tyler, Sherry had been a good girl last night. They hadn’t even kissed, for cripes sake, but that was all on Tyler. For some reason, he was all about dragging out the anticipation. Reveling in the tension building between them. Making out hot and heavy on a lounge chair by the pool would’ve been fine with her, but her mysterious roadie had chuckled low in his throat and whispered, “There’ll be time for that later.”

  But tonight, their time was up. No more waiting. No more games. This was her last night in Sin City, and she intended to spend it doing sinfully yummy things.

  A purposeful knock cut short her daydreams, and Sherry jumped to her feet. Shaking out her shoulders, she half skipped toward the door and threw it open.

  “Mornin’.”

  And what a good morning it was. Tyler stood before her, six-plus feet of denim-clad hotness. A woodsy scent wafted toward her, and she inhaled deeply, loving the smell of his cologne. The man was gorgeous, and he was hers for the next twenty-four hours.

  Closing the door behind her, she looked up into deep green eyes swirling with mutual desire and asked, “Do I at least get a hint now as to where we’re going?”

  Tyler shook his head and grinned.

  …

  “Okay, roadie-man, we’re talking serious points here.” Damp tendrils stuck to Sherry’s flushed cheeks as she glanced back at the aerialist in flight. “I can’t believe your boss hooked us up like this. Either Blue respects the crap out of you, or he’s hella generous. Either way, this date freaking rocks!”

  Tyler smiled, ignoring the stab of guilt that coincided with her praise. He’d tell her the truth eventually—he would. But was it a crime that he enjoyed this freedom so much? Yeah, so, he’d flubbed a few facts here and there. Claimed his big-shot boss had hooked them up. Got the Eiffel Tower to open for an early lunch and scored private lessons with Cirque du Soleil. But he hadn’t lied about anything important. Other than his career and hinting at his pay grade, he’d been completely himself, straight up.

  Only more so.

  Sherry’s energy was infectious. Her uncontained enthusiasm for life contagious. He felt like a kid again, laughing loud, chasing her around the auditorium. Music meant everything to Tyler, and nothing beat the rush of performing in front of a packed house—but spending the last eighteen hours with this woman, remembering how life used to be before the stress and pressure of expectation weighed him down was a rush of its own.

  “I take it you enjoyed your aerial stunt?”

  Sherry’s face lit up in a smile, and he couldn’t help feeling smug. He’d put that there. Sure, as far as first dates went, this was extreme. They could’ve easily laid low, gone somewhere simple, but he’d wanted to spoil her. Growing up, money equaled tension. Struggle. Deprivation. Finally, he had a bank account that allowed him to be a little frivolous, and he enjoyed taking advantage of that.

  Plus, the private dining room and secluded auditorium kept Tyler from being outed by his fans.

  A look of near awe crossed Sherry’s face. “I’ve always loved dance and gymnastics, but that…Tyler, holy crap!” She laughed again, and the musical sound was like oxygen to starving lungs. “We flew!”

  She reached out and fisted his long-sleeved shirt in her hands, beaming up at him with complete gratitude. Not with undeserved adoration or manufactured, starry-eyed lust, but with sincere pleasure and pure feminine appreciation.

  That expression was addictive.

  It made him feel like he could do anything. Like he was invincible. Worthy. And at the same time, it nearly brought him to his knees. All the groupies in the world couldn’t replicate the satisfaction coursing through him, and suddenly, nothing mattered more, there was nothing he wanted more, than to kiss her.

  To feel the lips that had held him captive since he caught her nibbling them in the green room.

  To taste the mouth he’d denied himself last night.

  Since becoming a man and accomplishing his dream, Tyler could count two times he’d deprived himself of something he truly wanted. The first was passing on the chance to open for Brad Paisley after his mom’s diagnosis. The second was last night. The temptation to take Sherry back to his hotel room had been almost impossible to ignore—but he’d done it. Guilt over his lie of omission kept him from taking what they both obviously wanted. Later, as he’d tossed and turned in an impossibly large bed, he battled back and forth between admitting the truth, doing the right thing, and his selfish need to hold onto the freedom. The sensation of being wanted solely for who he was as a man and not what he could do for their career. Or for bragging rights. By the time the sun rose, Tyler had come to a decision.

  This wasn’t some sixth grade first kiss or crush. He and Sherry were adults, and they both knew the score. And right now, all he wanted was a taste.

  He was almost positive he’d admit the truth before it went any further.

  Before I take her to my bed.

  Dropping his gaze to the object of his obsession, Tyler placed his knuckle beneath her chin. He gently tipped it toward him, and cinnamon-scented breath hit his parted lips. His mouth watered in anticipation. Snaking his other arm around her lower back, he tugged her still closer, lifting his eyes to hers.

  “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.”

  Sherry’s eyes widened before letting her lashes fall heavily, covering the intoxicating swirl of amber and green. Licking her lips, she said, “Well, the aerialist did most of the work.”

  He chuckled. God, she made him smile. This was the happiest he remembered being in a long time. Hell, he was even flirting. When was the last time he’d bothered to do that? Lately, he barely said hello to a woman before she tried slipping him her room key.

  Resting his forehead against hers, he breathed in her light floral scent and said, “You know damn well I ain’t talking about your trapeze skills.”

  White teeth trapped her bottom lip. In slow motion, he watched her tilt her head and bring that lip nearer and nearer to his. He’d made it clear what he wanted, but she’d have to be the one to take it. He wouldn’t force this, especially not since he wasn’t being totally honest yet.

  Sherry’s dark lashes flickered, and Tyler was ensnared in the intensity of her stare. Focused questioning that softened into the sexy confidence of a woman who knew she was desired. A smile tipped her lips and she cl
osed her eyes.

  And his cell phone rang.

  “Dammit to hell,” he cursed, watching as Sherry skittered out of his arms. Wide-eyed, she unsuccessfully stifled a laugh as he shoved a hand into his pocket and snatched his phone in frustration. “What?”

  “Dude, Nolan and Arianne are going ape-shit,” Charlie replied, ignoring Tyler’s bark. “Where the hell are you?”

  Schooling his features, Tyler pressed the phone to his thigh and held up an index finger. “Give me a minute. Then we’re picking up right where we left off.”

  His voice was a low warning, and Sherry’s smile turned wicked as she winked and uncapped her water bottle. The sight of those lips wrapped around the opening was the cruelest type of torture. And she knew it. He clenched his teeth and hiked down the aisle so she wouldn’t overhear.

  “You’ve got impeccable timing, you know that?” He glanced over his shoulder and said, “I needed a personal day, all right? Sue me. What the hell do they care anyway? I checked the schedule. Nothing was on it. Blue has no commitments except studio time next week. So why have they been blowing up my phone all damn morning? Where’s the fire?”

  On top of annoying the crap out of him, the constant texts and calls from his agent and publicist had made Sherry suspicious. They’d also given Tyler ample opportunity to correct her misassumption, but he’d been too selfish to do that. He’d almost turned it off a million times, but his dad had this number. He’d told his old man to call any time, for any reason, if he or his mom needed him. The frustration and questions weren’t enough to risk missing that call.

  “The label got wind of the article,” Charlie said. “They’re using it to twist the system, man. Stone wants three new songs added to the album. One a duet with Kristen Wilson and two more that specifically hint at committed love.” He made a disgusted sound, and Tyler imagined him flipping off the air. His friend hated this bullshit as much as he did. “And Ty, I hate to tell you this, but if you don’t start playing along or find a woman of your own, it looks like they’re gonna do it for you.”