Accidentally Married on Purpose: A Love and Games Novel

by Rachel Harris

  Groaning, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath before straightening to his full, towering height. “I foresee many cold showers in my future.”

  Sherry put her fingers to her tingling mouth. “And I’ll be right behind you.” She lifted a shoulder. “But the way I see it, those are preferable to heartache.”

  His mouth pressed into a thin line as he nodded and gripped his guitar case. Pulling out the handle of his luggage, he nodded toward the house. “Let’s see my new digs.”

  Grateful he wasn’t pushing the situation, Sherry led the way, covertly glancing around her yard as they walked up the cracked concrete path. Was this what the next thirty days of her life would be like? People watching, capturing her boring-ass trek from the car on film? Videoing her slipper-clad hike to the mailbox?

  What have I gotten myself into now?

  On the porch, Tyler watched in amusement as she dug through her purse for her keys. She’d just dropped them inside, but the thing was a disaster as always. Eventually she found them underneath her hairbrush, and after fiddling with the lock until the stubborn thing turned, she threw open the door. “Home sweet home,” she announced.

  Tyler set his bags down on the porch and stalked toward her with a devious smirk. “What are you doing?” she asked, backing away in confusion at the mischievous look in his eyes.

  That bad-boy smirk transformed into one of his crooked grins. The kind that sold millions of records and sweet-talked girls into trouble. “Carrying you over the threshold.”

  She widened her eyes and took another step back. “Uh, no, you aren’t,” she replied, a laugh bubbling up her throat as he advanced again, looking like a stealthy cheetah. For the most part, she was happy in her own skin. After years of battling her weight, she’d grown to love her curves. But a freaking feather she wasn’t. “Really, Ty, that’s not necessary.”

  “See, but I think it is. And you said you wanted to be swept off your feet.”

  He feigned left, she went right, and before she knew what was happening, Tyler had grabbed her up in his strong arms. She quickly yanked the hem of her stupid dress, trying very hard not to flash the cameras, as warmth infused her skin. He made holding her seem effortless. And damn if that wasn’t hot.

  Cradled against his chest, his shining eyes just a few inches from hers, Sherry’s belly fluttered. And she felt giddy instead of annoyed. What was wrong with her?

  “Traditions exist for a reason, baby girl,” he said, voice like silk. “We don’t wanna start this thing on the wrong foot, now do we?” At his teasing words, déjà vu hit. They’d definitely done this before. “In we go.”

  Laughing, they crossed the threshold and Tyler bumped the door closed with his foot. But he didn’t set her down. Up close like this, staring into his eyes, she noticed a thin circle of gray around the green.

  A silver lining, she thought like a dope, before almost groaning aloud. His kiss had evidently scrambled her brain.

  After walking forward a couple steps, Tyler stopped and relaxed his hold, keeping their bodies connected as he slowly placed her back on her feet. She shook her head at his flirty smile, and he winked.

  He popped back out for his luggage, and Sherry rolled her neck, giving herself a pep talk. There was nothing wrong with flirting, but she couldn’t let herself get lost in the game. This was pretend, with a nice dash of potential friendship. As long as she stayed focused, kept her eyes on the prize, everything would be fine.

  But keeping those giddy-making kisses to a minimum would be imperative.

  “So where should I put my stuff?” he asked, returning with his things and looking around her living room. Sherry followed his gaze and winced at the dirty dishes and empty Coke cans cluttered around. Okay, so she was no Martha Stewart.

  “Well, my roommate actually just moved out. Sort of anyway, so you can use her room.”

  She went to help with his belongings, and Tyler’s hand shot out, stopping her from touching his guitar. “That’s okay, I got it.”

  Lifting an eyebrow, she made a production of stepping away, palms in the air. “I don’t have cooties or anything, I swear,” she said, all serious-like. “And despite the tidiness of my humble abode, I’ll even go so far as to say that I’ve yet to break things upon contact.”

  The left side of Tyler’s mouth crooked in a grin. “Sorry. Guess I’m a little careful around my girl,” he admitted, indicating the guitar. And wasn’t that just the most adorable thing ever? “Dad got her for my birthday when I turned thirteen. She hasn’t left my side much since.”

  A gooey part of Sherry’s heart melted onto her toes. “She’s your good luck charm,” she said, noticing the slight aging around the case. Wikipedia had said Tyler was twenty-six—a year older than she was—which meant he’d had his guitar for thirteen years. A far cry from her longest relationship, that was for sure.

  “Written all my best songs on her,” he agreed, changing his grip on the handle. He hung his head, and the thick knot in his throat bobbed as he swallowed. Sherry got the impression he was working through a memory, something tied to his dad perhaps, so she stayed quiet until he lifted his eyes again. “You mentioned I can stay in your sort of roommate’s room. Sure she won’t mind me being in there?”

  She shook her head. What she wanted to do was ask about his dad, offer to talk if he needed, but she didn’t want to push. “She’ll never know. Angelle is engaged to my brother, and yesterday she moved all the important stuff over to his house. Really, the only things left are a bed and some clothes. Now if you try those on, she might have a problem…”

  The last trace of melancholy left his face, and she grinned.

  “If they’re engaged, why didn’t she just take it all?”

  “Angie’s old-fashioned. She wants a place she can go if either of them needs space,” she said, reiterating her friend’s excuse. Then her smile grew, thinking of the real reason she suspected Angelle kept her things there. “And so she won’t be technically lying when she tells her mama she still lives with me.”

  Tyler considered that. “What happens if she decides she needs that space and comes back while I’m here?”

  The smile on Sherry’s face fell away at the very real possibility of sharing a bed with Tyler. Again. Although she’d woken on the bathroom tile, the memories of the hour or two before that, fuzzy or not, were still pretty damn hot. “Then I guess you’d sleep with me. In my bed, I mean.”

  The look they exchanged made her want to douse herself with cold water, and she rocked back on her heels. With the feel of his lips still burned into hers, she was tempted to take him to her room now.

  “But one day at a time, right?” she said, reminding him about their final rule. “If and when that happens, we’ll deal with it then.”

  “Fair enough.”

  Silence fell between them, and Tyler looked around again, this time paying attention to the family photos on the wall, the framed concert posters and art. He grabbed a frame from the side table that held a picture of her and Cane at the bachelor auction. He shot her an amused look.

  “That’s my brother,” she explained with a small laugh. “Which I realize may make it sound worse. He’s shirtless for charity, just to be clear—that event you read about, actually. It was taken just after he won Best Abs.” She smiled as the memories of that night washed over her. “As you can imagine, Cane loathes that picture.”

  Tyler chuckled. “Which is the reason you have it framed, right?”

  She neither confirmed nor denied, simply smiled, and he set the picture down. “So let me see if I have this right. You have two siblings, Cane and Colby, and a best-friend-slash-future-sister-in-law, Angelle. Colby recently married a fire captain, who has a daughter named Emma. How’d I do?” Sherry nodded, impressed that he’d remembered her family tree, and he lifted his fist in victory. “Any other relatives I should be aware of?”

  She started to say no. Tyler already knew both her parents were deceased, and she didn’t have a lot of
cousins or anything. But then his stance shifted, and her gaze fell to his guitar. His girl, as he called it.

  “Only one,” she said, widening her eyes. “Elvis.”

  …

  Tyler was almost certain his new bride wasn’t crazy, at least not in the literal sense, so he must be missing something. He stood there, waiting for the punch line, and she laughed with a mischievous smirk.

  “Elvis is the man in my life,” she said, backing slowly into the kitchen. “And I think it’s high time the two of you met.”

  A cat-like grin crossed her face as she spun on her heel. The click of her shoes hit the kitchen tile like a drum beat. Soon an alarm beeped, letting him know she’d opened a back door, and he heard her speak in a low voice.

  Despite what she’d said, it couldn’t be another man. If someone were waiting at home, she wouldn’t have needed to hook up with him in Vegas. She also wouldn’t have made her grand plan for the future. So who was it? And why was he in the backyard?

  A streak of white fur and energy shot around the corner seconds before two paws latched onto his jeans. Tyler laughed as he took a knee, scooping up the dog, and a rain of wet, slobbery licks fell over his face.

  “Tyler, meet my baby, Elvis.” At the sound of Sherry’s voice, the chaotic ball of fluff in his arms went wild. She kicked off her heels and padded into the room, her voice turning into a singsong as she said, “And Elvis, this is Tyler. He’s gonna be around for a while, yes he is.”

  When she leaned back, the smile on her face was radiant. God, she was pretty. She glanced at him and asked, “Please tell me you’re okay with dogs? I would’ve mentioned it earlier, but I guess I got sidetracked.”

  “More than okay.” He fell to the ground to play with the exuberant puppy, and Elvis immediately flopped on his back for a belly rub. His top lip curled like his namesake. “I’ve always wanted a dog.”

  Sherry scooted closer and smiled as the Shih-Tzu’s tongue lolled out of his mouth. “You’re obviously a natural, so what’s kept you from getting one?” She sent him a teasing grin.

  “Something tells me you can afford it.”

  Tyler shrugged. “It didn’t seem right. I’m always on the road, and a tour bus is no place to raise a dog.”

  “I can see that,” she said softly, watching as he scratched under Elvis’s chin. “Still, it seems so sad. So many dogs out there need a good home. What about when you were growing up? No dog then, either?”

  Tyler kept his eyes on Elvis. He never spoke about his personal life, especially his parents, to anyone, and he wasn’t sure this was the best time to start. Instead, he said, “Money was always tight,” which was true. If not the entire reason.

  “They’re definitely not cheap,” she agreed, falling to her stomach and taking over the belly rub. Leaning over the dog, she said, “Mama spoils you, doesn’t she? Yes she does.”

  He chuckled under his breath. Cute girls who spoke baby talk normally drove him insane, yet somehow, with this cute girl, he found it adorable. Tyler doubted there was much Sherry could do that he wouldn’t find adorable. Other than her housekeeping. He glanced again at the cluttered tabletops and the basket of unfolded laundry in the corner of the room. This would definitely be an adjustment.

  “Knock, knock.”

  Sherry’s widened gaze flew to the front door. A knuckle rap followed the muffled voice, and she bolted up, yanking the hem of her dress. Pity that. Assuming their visitor must be someone important, Tyler quickly adjusted the ball cap on his head. The show was apparently on.

  Two seconds later, a cute redhead waltzed through the door, keys in the lock, trailed by a young girl and the same man from the picture frame. Only now, Sherry’s brother was fully clothed.

  “You must be Cane.” Pushing to his feet, Tyler smiled and thrust out his hand. “Pleased to meet you. I’m Tyler Blue.”

  The man’s eyes narrowed as he stood still, studying him. Leaving Tyler hanging.

  Tyler didn’t drop his hand an inch. He didn’t date and wasn’t the type who aimed to impress women’s families, but he got the general gist. This was a simple case of big brother protecting his own. And when the person in question was Sherry, Tyler could appreciate it. But he also wasn’t one to be scared off.

  The redhead huffed and slapped Cane on the arm. “I swear you’re the stubbornest man alive.” She grasped Tyler’s hand between hers and smiled wide. “Pay him no mind. I’m Angelle, and you’re right, this is Cane, my ox of a fiancé. We hope we’re not intruding; I know you just got in, but Ms. Emma here begged us to stop by.” She glanced at Sherry and winked. “We’ll only be a minute.”

  The young girl—Emma, he presumed—practically flew to stand in front of him, mouth agape. “When Dad told me Aunt Sherry got married, I was totally shocked. I mean, I assumed I’d be a junior bridesmaid. That’s what I was in Dad’s wedding, and Uncle Cane says that’s what I’ll be in his. But then I heard she eloped and married you, and I. Freaked. Out!” Her ponytail bounced as she did a little dance. “Ask my dad and Colby—I’m a huge fan.”

  Tyler smiled. “Well then, it sounds like you have excellent taste in music, young lady.”

  The smile that lit her face was pure sunshine—and had as much energy behind it as ten Red Bulls. “Aunt Sherry never liked your music much,” she went on, earning a horrified, “Emma!” from Angelle. Tyler chuckled at her blunt honesty. “What, it’s the truth. She said country music was nothing but complaining and sissy-baby whining, and that people needed to get over it already.” She sent her aunt a wink, clearly enjoying herself. “But I’m guessing since y’all got married, she’s changed her mind now. Can I have your autograph?”

  It took a second to realize that last part was a question directed toward him. Once he did, Tyler shook his head to clear it. “Oh, of course. Anything for my biggest fan.”

  Sherry tugged the young girl’s ponytail and said, “I’ll get you some paper.” A few seconds later, she emerged from the kitchen with a pad of paper and handed it over. She caught Tyler’s gaze and mouthed the words, Thank you. He winked.

  “You know, I’m actually not just a fan anymore,” Emma corrected. “I’m your niece.”

  The joy in her voice, and the truth in that statement, hit him for some reason, and he paused in writing his name. He glanced at Sherry again. This was where their ruse got sticky. Smiling at the girl, he said, “I guess you are, sweetheart.”

  Tyler spent a few more minutes with Emma, giving her his full attention and talking about music and her favorite songs. At one point, he glanced up to find both Sherry and Cane watching him closely. Sherry with a soft, tenderhearted smile, and her brother minus a scowl. Tyler counted that as progress.

  “Is that your guitar?” Emma asked, pointing to the case propped near the wall.

  “It sure is,” he replied with a nod.

  “Uncle Cane just started giving me lessons. I don’t totally suck, but I loathe having to clip my nails.” She held up ten fingernails alternately painted purple and black.

  Sherry mussed her niece’s hair. “A girl after my own heart.”

  Cane shifted his weight closer to the case. “What kind you play?”

  Based on the question and Emma’s announcement, Tyler figured Cane must be a musician, too. Which meant Tyler’s answer could be a make-it-or-break-it thing. “Takamine.”

  Three pairs of feminine eyes swung toward Cane, and when the man gave a small nod, they exhaled in unison.

  Tyler’s was a bit subtler.

  “Nice.” Cane’s ramrod posture relaxed a fraction, and he propped his shoulder against the wall. “That’s what I play.”

  Not much to go on. Grasping at straws, really. But hey, it was something. Sherry wrapped her arms around Tyler’s waist, an action so natural it didn’t feel like an act. In a way, it wasn’t. Their relationship wasn’t real, but the need to impress the people in the room was. Tyler slid his arm around his wife’s shoulder and kissed the crown of her head.

  “Yo
u two are so cute,” Emma declared, taking a seat on the armrest of the sofa. “Angelle told us it was love at first sight and that you swept Aunt Sherry off her feet.” She heaved a dramatic sigh. “That’s so romantic.”

  “Also pretty reckless,” Cane muttered, earning another slap from his fiancée. “Hey, I’m one to talk, I know. I asked you to marry me after a week.” He tugged her into the circle of his arms and turned back to his baby sister, anxiety clear on his face. “But we at least knew each other for months, and neither of us is famous. I just have to wonder if either of you know what the hell it is you’re doing.”

  Not a damn clue.

  One thing he did know: the Robicheauxs didn’t hold back. They told it like it was, and Tyler liked it. But he could also see why Sherry didn’t want to admit the truth.

  “I’m not saying life with me is easy,” he admitted, squeezing Sherry close to his side. “When your sister married me, she inherited a lot of hassle. Paparazzi, journalists, gossip, long hours, and a husband who travels more often than not. But she also married a man who doesn’t give up. Who respects and appreciates her, and who would do anything within his power to keep her from getting hurt.”

  Sherry lifted her head from his chest, and Tyler brushed aside a strand of purple hair. “Our relationship isn’t conventional, and it sure as hell didn’t start off like most. But we both know what we want and aren’t afraid to go for it.”

  At that, Sherry winced slightly, her arched eyebrows drawing together. It hadn’t been a knock on her business plan; he’d meant her confident nature in general. She was a go-getter, even if she didn’t realize it yet. Somehow, he’d find a way for her to see it too, and help make her dream come true. All she needed was a little push.

  “Well then, I think it’s time we left the newlyweds alone.”

  Tyler looked away from her mesmerizing eyes and returned Angelle’s smile. They said their good-byes, earning a smile from Sherry when Cane shook his hand, and Emma waltzed outside humming one of his tunes. Cane followed behind her, shaking his head. Just outside the door, Angelle paused with her hand on the jamb.