Game for Marriage (14 page)

That smile made him feel like he could conquer the world.

“Her father will eat your balls for dinner if he finds out you’re banging his daughter,” Jared finally said, focusing on Nick’s problems rather than his own.

Nick grimaced. “See, that’s the thing. I’m not banging her. I’m chasing her ass but she keeps avoiding me. And I
never
chase.” He stared off into the distance, quiet, blowing Jared’s mind that they were having this conversation in the first place. Months ago they wouldn’t have given a rat’s ass about any particular women making them crazy. They would’ve moved on because that’s what they did. Their careers didn’t allow for a committed relationship. At least, that’s what they’d told themselves.

And now Jared was married and actually liking it. And Nick was chasing a woman who wouldn’t give him the time of day.

Their lives had turned completely upside down.

“Jared, got a minute?”

Both men turned to find Harvey approaching them, an affable smile on his face, three-piece suit intact, not a wrinkle in sight. Nick slapped Jared on the shoulder and sent a salute in Harvey’s direction. “See ya later,” he said before he took off.

Jared couldn’t help but be envious of his friend. Whenever Harvey wanted a moment to chat, it usually ended with bad news.

“What’s up?” he asked warily.

The smile never eased from Harvey’s face. In fact, it went up a subtle notch. “Why didn’t you tell me your wife was doing a charity painting class this evening?”

Shit.
Because he forgot. “I would’ve told you,” he said with a shrug.

“When? After it happened?” Harvey shook his head. “This is the best sort of publicity there is and Sheridan’s missing out on the media attention—and so are you, especially before this game with the Raiders. Make you and your wife look extra kind before you go out on the field and massacre your arch-nemesis.”

“I can’t massacre Wallace. But we
will
kick their asses.”

“You’d better hope,” Harvey muttered, some of that easygoing charm disappearing for a moment before he seemed to straighten himself out. “You’re going to this painting event tonight, correct?”

“Yeah, of course. Though Sheridan doesn’t know.”

Harvey frowned. “Why not?”

“It’s a surprise.” He wanted to see that gorgeous smile light up her entire face when he walked into her gallery. Wanted her to run to him and hug him close, with a promise of an extra special thank-you for him later that evening. Besides, he owed her. He’d made a deal with her back at the restaurant opening and though no one had lost that bet, he still felt like he should do this for her.

There were a lot of things Jared wanted to do for Sheridan.

“I’ll get plenty of media in attendance.” Harvey pulled out his cell and started scrolling. “I’m calling in the forces so they’re out there with their cameras aimed and ready.”

Jared reached for Harvey’s phone and tried to pull it right out of his hands, but Harvey was faster than he looked. “Don’t call in a bunch of paps. I hate those guys.”

“Just a few, then. The ones who still like you.” Harvey sent him a meaningful look. “It would be perfect publicity for you: Jared Quinn and his do-gooder wife. The timing is impeccable. I’ll have to compliment Sheridan on Sunday when I see her. She is coming to the game, correct?”

“Of course, she is.” Talking to Harvey burst the protective little bubble he and Sheridan had been living in. Reminding him that their marriage was nothing but a fraud put together to further advance his career and improve his image.

He really, really hated that.

“Did she plan this to fall just before the game with the Raiders?”

“No.” He didn’t think so. She’d had the painting for charity class lined up for months, before they even got married. It was a part of Breast Cancer Awareness Month, in honor of her grandmother who had breast cancer and conquered it.

“Well, I must say this is the perfect opportunity to smash your naysayers for good.” Harvey grinned, clapping Jared on the back. “You done good with this one, Jared. You’re on track to being number one in everyone’s hearts again. So everything’s cookin’ at home, too, hmm?”

Jared grimaced. “What do you mean?”

“Little woman keeping you happy?” Harvey winked.
Fucking winked.
“You’ve been in an excellent mood lately.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

The grin disappeared. “Don’t play dumb with me. You were a growling bear up until about two weeks ago. I’m figuring that’s because Sheridan’s been keeping the home fires lit?”

“I’m not going to talk to you about what happens between Sheridan and me at home.” He sounded defensive to his own ears, which was ridiculous. “Nothing happens between us at home,” he added lamely.

“Sure.” The knowing look Harvey gave Jared irritated the ever-loving shit out of him. “Tell Sheridan I said hello.”

Unease slipped through Jared as he watched Harvey walk away. He didn’t like what Harvey implied. Like he knew something was up between them, as if he were in on the big secret. Yeah, Jared had been a complete grouch prior to his and Sheridan’s finally having sex, but he didn’t think everyone was aware of the change in him. Or why that change happened.

Yet Harvey behaved like he knew. And Jared didn’t like that.

Not one bit.

Chapter Fourteen

“There are photographers outside.” One of the volunteers blinked at Sheridan, the fear in her gaze unmistakable. She shook her head, clearly frazzled by the unwanted attention. “They were asking me questions about you and Jared.”

Sheridan sagged, staring at the front door of her gallery. Her students would start arriving at any minute. Most of them were breast cancer survivors, including two who were just now in remission. Some would be accompanied by a friend or family member, and they were all going to paint something pink and girly and fun in celebration of life after cancer.

And in honor of her grandmother, who’d suffered through breast cancer and still managed to come out the other side strong and healthy. She’d lived another fifteen years after the initial diagnosis, only to die of typical old age in her sleep.

That was so the way Sheridan wanted to go.

“I really don’t want them to disturb my clients.” Sheridan shook her head as she started for the front door. “How did they find out I was doing this? I didn’t publicize it.”

She swung open the door to find Willow fending off questions with a few choice words and a giant smile at the handful of photographers who waited in front of the gallery. The minute they caught sight of Sheridan standing in the doorway, they went crazy, the bright flashes blinding her so she threw up her arm to block her eyes.

“It would really be best if you guys, um…took off?” she said as Willow slipped through the barely-open front door. “I have guests coming who don’t want their privacy invaded.”

The guys ignored her request, one of them shouting, “Sheridan, Sheridan, tell us about your event tonight. Is Jared coming?”

“What? No.” She wished. That would’ve put a smile on their faces, seeing big, bad, gorgeous Jared Quinn in their midst.

Or maybe that would just put a smile on her face…

“Why isn’t he here supporting your cause tonight?” another photographer asked.

“Um…” Because she hadn’t made a big deal about it? Because it was her charity to sponsor and hers alone? She didn’t need Jared to make it a bigger and splashier event, though she wanted him there. Desperately. She was just wary of the media attention his presence brought. “It’s a small, intimate party. Invite only.
Women
only,” she added with a faint smile.

That sent the cameras flashing all over again. “Where’s your ring, Sheridan? You’re not wearing it!” another one shouted at her.

Oh crap. She never wore it when she painted. It was too big, too beautiful, too expensive. What if she lost it? “Um—” she started just when Willow hooked her hand around Sheridan’s arm, yanking her back into the warm, quiet gallery and the door closed with an audible
click
.

“Don’t keep answering them because they’ll only keep asking.” Willow shook her head, her thick-framed glasses slipping down her perfect nose. Sheridan swore her friend wore those stupid glasses just to be taken more seriously. “It looks good in here. How’s the studio?”

“Come with me.” Sheridan waved a hand as she headed into the back room. The long table used for her classes was set up, wooden tabletop easels painted in bright colors and blank canvases at the ready. A variety of bottles filled with paint, many of them in varying shades of pink, sat in the center. And little sponsored goody bags filled with treats provided by local businesses sat at each chair. “What do you think?”

“Oh Sheridan, you outdid yourself this year.” Willow clapped her hands together, her eyes sparkling. “I love it.”

“Thanks. I definitely think it looks better than last year.” And Sheridan had been so proud of everything she’d done last year, too. This time, though, she had to agree with Willow.

She’d really outdone herself.

“I can hear the paps yelling outside.” Willow shook her head. “They’re crazy for you.”

“They follow me everywhere. I don’t know how Jared can stand it.” Sheridan frowned. She should call Harvey and ask him to get rid of them. Her event wasn’t some splashy
let’s garner as much attention as possible
type of party. It was quiet and subtle, and supposed to celebrate the conquering spirit of women. And give them a chance to create and lose themselves in something spiritually…freeing.

And fun. Sheridan was always about the fun when it came to her work. Whimsical and silly and cute—she wanted to share that with these women who’d suffered so much, like her grandmother had so long ago.

“Is Jared coming tonight? Bringing any friends?” Willow asked, sounding way too casual for her own good.

“No, why would he? This is a ladies’ night only,” Sheridan stressed, knowing exactly what Willow was up to. “Though I should call him and tell him to get rid of the photographers.”

The disappointment on Willow’s face was clear. A Nick spotting was so not going to happen. “That’s too bad. I bet the ladies would love to see a bunch of handsome football players invade the studio.”

“We couldn’t fit them all in here. They’re too big.” Sheridan laughed.

“I know. Isn’t that what’s so great about them?” Willow grinned. “All those hunky, muscular men, testosterone pouring off them in waves. Gorgeous as can be just standing there smiling and smelling good.”

“Sounds like someone is crushing hardcore,” Sheridan teased.

“I’m crushing on absolutely no one,” Willow said with a tilt of her head and a sniff.

“Oh, come on, I’m just joking,” Sheridan said, though she really wasn’t. But Willow ignored her.

“I’ll finish setting up the bar.” Willow had brought in her own temporary bar she used to travel around with at events. Mixing her special cotton candy cocktails for the evening, which were surely going to be a hit.

Sheridan couldn’t wait. She was helping a cause she firmly believed in, connecting with women of the community, and helping her friends expose their businesses to others. It was a win-win for all.

Despite her insisting Jared wouldn’t be there, she wished he could make a brief appearance. But he’d told her he had a prior commitment, his voice full of regret. The women who would be attending tonight would have probably enjoyed a private glimpse of Jared, just for them.

Withholding the sigh that wanted to escape, she shook her head. She craved him like a drug, which was foolish. Becoming dependent on him would no doubt damage her in the long run. But it was hard to quit thinking about him, what with remembering the way he looked at her. Touched her. Kissed her.

Melted her…

“Stop thinking about Jared.” Willow nudged her in the side with a pointy elbow.

“Ow.” Sheridan rubbed her ribs. “How do you know I was thinking about Jared?”

“You get that dreamy look on your face like you’re floating on a cloud or something.” Willow shook her head. “It’s pretty disgusting. You’re in love and it shows.”

Panic swept through Sheridan. She wasn’t in love. She didn’t even know him. Not that well. They’d been together what, a couple of months? And it had been a rocky few months. Only the last few weeks had they made a real connection. A connection she wanted to explore further.

She frowned. Okay, she sounded ridiculous. Their connection was purely sexual. Their marriage was fake. And they were putting everything at risk by having sex.

Clearly, she was an idiot.

“They’re starting to arrive,” Willow said as she glanced toward the door, which opened to reveal three women entering the gallery with excited looks on their faces.

“Let’s go greet them,” Sheridan said, worry gnawing at her. Pushing all thoughts of Jared aside, she went to welcome her new students. She wanted everything to be perfect that night. Hopefully the photographers hanging around wouldn’t ruin it.

…

Jared crept into Sheridan’s gallery, relieved to see the front of the building empty. He could hear his wife’s voice as she conducted her painting class, the murmur of answers coming from her students, her lilting laughter ringing through him, making him smile.

“God, you’re so gone over her, it’s pathetic,” Nick muttered, shoving him in the chest.

“What do you mean?” The photographers were long gone, since the event had been going on for over an hour and Jared hadn’t arrived yet. They had all given up waiting for him, and he’d planned it that way. He didn’t want any attention for the night. It all belonged to Sheridan.

But he wanted to come and help her, at least for a little bit. He owed her, after all. And he’d brought a partner in crime, who’d come willingly, since he was in hot pursuit of a certain woman named Willow.

“I mean, you hear her voice and you get all googly-eyed like some horny teenager. It’s ridiculous.” Nick shook his head, the diamond studs in each ear glittering in the light. “She’s got you so by the balls and you don’t even know it.”

“She does not.” Did she? Hell, he hadn’t a clue.

“Delusional. This is what happens. You fall in love with a woman and you become delusional. No thank you,” Nick muttered.

Jared wasn’t going to bother asking what crawled up his friend’s ass to make him so bitter. He already knew the answer.

They entered the studio space soundlessly, Jared’s eyes widening at the chaos within. At least twenty women crowded around the long table that sat in the center of the room, their hands flying busily across the canvases in front of them, all creating the same thing, but their interpretations were individually different.

Sheridan stood at the head of the table, leading them in their creation of a beautiful garden, bursting with bright pink color. She offered instructions as she curved her brush, sweeping the blob of paint into a perfect petal. Her brows knit in concentration, her teeth sunk into her bottom lip, a smear of pink paint streaked across her chin.

She was so beautiful she made his chest hurt.

He rubbed at it absently, earning another shove on his shoulder from Nick.
Fucker.

The room suddenly grew quiet as they noticed him and Nick standing there. Jaws dropped, a gasp sounded, and then all of those heads swiveled in Sheridan’s direction.

“Your husband is here,” one of them said, awe and wonder tingeing her voice.

Sheridan turned, her gaze meeting his, her golden eyes lighting up like the sun. The smile on her face left him dazed and she went to him without a word, standing up on tiptoe to kiss him softly, full on the mouth before she stepped away. “Hi.”

He wanted to grab her, sling her over his shoulder, and take her home. “We’re not disturbing you, are we?” Reaching out, he wiped at the paint on her chin. It didn’t budge.

“No.” She shook her head, her smile never fading as she looked at Nick. “I was sort of hoping you’d surprise me.”

“Really?”

“Yes. You both can help. We’re almost finished and everyone needs their canvases framed before they leave.” She waved a hand to a table in the far corner of the room, where a stack of white wooden frames sat empty.

“Can I get your autograph?” One of the women reached out, and set her hand on Nick’s arm.

He smiled that devastating Hamilton grin, the one that got him laid on a nightly basis. “Sure thing, darlin’. Find me something to sign and I’ll do it.”

The studio burst into a wild, noisy frenzy after that. Those who were finished handed over their paintings to Jared and Nick, who went right to work. When they weren’t being distracted by autograph and photo requests, Jared let Nick take over the schmooze fest while he went to work framing the canvases. His phone buzzed in the front pocket of his jeans, indicating he had a text, but he ignored it.

Yet when it’d buzzed three times, he knew someone was trying to get a hold of him, so he pulled the phone out of his pocket and glanced at the screen. The three messages were from Harvey.

What the hell is this?

We need to do major damage control.

Call me right now.

Jared clicked the link Harvey had first sent him, dread settling in his gut as he waited for it to open. A gossip site’s web page opened, a picture of Sheridan at the very top with a headline that screamed,
Is the Honeymoon Over? Sheridan Quinn Caught Without her Wedding Ring!

Zooming in, he studied the picture, which couldn’t have been taken more than an hour prior right in front of the studio. She wore a frazzled smile, her hand on the door handle of the gallery, and Willow was tugging on her other arm, as if pulling her inside. No wedding ring shone on her finger and the article even intimated that she’d avoided the reporter’s question when he asked why she wasn’t wearing her ring.

Blowing out a harsh breath, he immediately texted Harvey back.

We’ll talk about it tomorrow.

Man, those gossip websites wasted no time, did they? The vultures. He shut off his already-dying phone and shoved it into his pocket.

No way was he putting a damper on Sheridan’s night. She was busy, working with the women, laughing with her friends, giving Nick crap. His canvas task forgotten, he watched her, entranced with her natural ease with people, her sweet, simple beauty. She touched everyone, offered that pretty smile with regularity, and laughed with such infectious joy that no one could resist her.

Especially him.

“It’s nice to see a beautiful young couple so much in love.”

Jared turned to find an older woman standing before him, her face lined with age, her shoulder-length, silvery white hair pushed back with a thin black headband. He stared at her blankly, unsure of what to say.

The woman smiled, her dark brown eyes twinkling. “You and your wife? It’s clear you adore each other.”

“Ah, thank you.” It was clear? To whom? Not the gossip sites. Apparently, they already had them split.

“I was friends with Sheridan’s grandmother, you know.” She nodded with all the confidence of a woman wise beyond her years. “Met her when we were going through cancer treatment at the same time. Yvonne went on to create this event the year after she finished treatment, wanting to celebrate with all the rest of us that we were strong enough to kick cancer’s butt.”

Jared smiled. Sheridan had shared bits and pieces of her past but not much. He appreciated the woman’s candor. “So Sheridan’s carrying on the legacy of her grandmother.” In more ways than one.