Game for Marriage (Game for It 1)

“I have that pretty much all planned out, too.” At her alarmed look, he shook his head. “Don’t freak out; I hired movers. They’ll box up all your stuff and bring it to my place. Or if you prefer, we can put most of it in storage until the year is up.”

“And where’s your place?”

“I have a house on Seventeen-Mile Drive, closer to Pebble Beach.”

She nodded slowly. “Of course you do.”

What did she mean by that? “Look, it’s pointless for you to keep that little apartment in Seaside.” Once they split, she’d have enough money to buy a decent house. Anything better than that hovel she lived in.

“I have a lease—” she started but he shook his head.

“Leases are made to be broken. Hell, I’ll pay it off. Don’t worry. Not like you’re going back there when this is all said and done, right?”

“No. I guess not.” She looked a little dazed. Everything was moving at such a rapid pace, he knew he felt a little shell shocked as well. “So do I need to bring anything tomorrow? For the uh…ceremony?”

“No, just yourself.” He reached inside his pocket, pulling out the small, pale blue box he’d picked up just before he came to her studio. “And this.”

The gasp that escaped Sheridan rang in his ears as he handed it over and settled it in her trembling grasp. “What is this?”

“Open it and see.” He nodded toward her and she cracked open the box, a little cry of surprise falling from her lips.

Wide eyes met his, her mouth hanging open for a brief moment before she snapped her teeth shut. “I can’t take this.”

“Yes, you can. It’s yours.” He’d had his agent Gwen pick it up for him at the local Tiffany’s up the street. Heaven forbid he walk in there and buy an engagement ring. It would probably make the national news by evening. Plus, he trusted Gwen to find something special.

“It’s beautiful,” she breathed, her gaze locked on the open box. She smoothed her index finger across the surface of the five-carat center stone, tracing the pave diamonds that surrounded it. “Is this an Asscher cut?”

“How’d you know?” He was impressed. Not that he’d known beforehand—Gwen had to school him on rings when she helped him with the quick Internet research. He’d wanted something big, beautiful, and expensive. He trusted Gwen’s taste. She’d been his agent for years. And the ring had put him down more than one hundred thousand dollars, which meant Gwen had fucking expensive taste. Not that he could tell Sheridan how much the ring cost. She’d probably never wear it if she knew.

“My grandma loved jewelry, especially diamond rings.” The fond smile curving Sheridan’s mouth snatched the breath from his lungs. When she smiled like that, he could easily forget all his troubles. “She married five times. Finally confessed she did it all for the diamond rings they each gave her.”

Jared laughed. “Really?”

“No, not really. My grandma said she was like Elizabeth Taylor. I guess Elizabeth was once quoted saying she was in love with falling in love. My grandma said that described her to a T.” Sheridan pulled the ring from the box and slipped it onto the proper finger. Holding her hand out, she splayed her fingers, admiring the glint of the sparkling ring. “She would’ve loved this one especially,” she said with a sigh.

There didn’t need to be any sentimental attachment to that moment. It was a business transaction, pure and simple. He gave her a ring, he told her they were getting married tomorrow, end of story.

So why did it feel so damn personal, giving the ring to Sheridan, hearing her talk about her grandma? He fought the urge to go to her, draw her into his arms and tell her everything was going to be okay. They could make this work.

There was nothing romantic about it—in fact, it was the complete opposite of romantic.

“I’m glad you like the ring,” he finally said. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning at your apartment. Say around ten?”

“Okay.” She nodded.

“Everything’s arranged. Just…be ready.”

“

You’re not giving me many details.” She frowned. “This is all so mysterious.”

Jared couldn’t admit he kept the details from her on purpose. What if she slipped? What if she accidentally told someone they were getting married and where and next thing he knew, they had an entire fleet of paparazzi waiting for them to emerge from the courthouse?

He couldn’t risk it. If she revealed even a hint of what they were about to do tomorrow, they were done for. He flat-out couldn’t trust her.

“It’s nothing crazy, I promise. I have practice for the next two days after we’re married. Our first preseason game is this Sunday.”

“Oh. Home or away?”