Torturing himself by hanging around Sheridan and playing the “we’re a loving couple” marriage game was driving him insane. He wanted her. He couldn’t have her. And they weren’t even a week in.
It was going to be one hell of a long year.
Chapter Nine
Sheridan stared at the calendar on her phone, tapping her finger against the screen as she counted the days, though she already knew the number.
A month she’d been married to Jared Quinn. Thirty-three days, to be exact. They’d hardly spent any time together, which really was just fine with her. Just. Fine. Him being busy at practice or away at games meant she had the amazing house with the equally amazing view all to herself for the most part. Oh, he came home, but it was usually late at night and then he slipped back out in the morning, headed to practice. Always leaving early so he could try and beat traffic, he claimed.
Which was awesome. She could run down the hall naked if she wanted and no one would care.
As Harvey promised, they’d launched a redesigned website for her studio and a virtual advertising campaign. Plus, there was the endless list of requests for various news media outlets wanting to interview her. Harvey picked and chose them, not wanting her to get in over her head, he warned. The media were like vultures, wanting to peck at any vulnerable spot she might have, ready to question her hurried relationship with Jared until they poked holes in her story.
Harvey wasn’t about to risk it. None of them were.
Fine. She didn’t want to deal with the media anyway. She was too busy at her studio. Her classes were now wait-listed and she was frantically scheduling in more where she could. Her prints were starting to move at her online store, as were her custom paintings and gifts. She was making major progress in a short amount of time, which absolutely thrilled her.
So why wasn’t she feeling too thrilled now?
Hmm, maybe because you’re sexually frustrated? And Jared is totally avoiding you?
Funny how that bitchy little voice inside her head sounded just like Willow.
Her husband was home, a rarity on a Friday morning. Though he actually wasn’t in the house at the moment. He’d escaped hours ago, before she’d even woken up, though she’d heard him rustling about. Had lain there in her bed in the guest room with the door cracked open, one eye cracked open as well, watching him move about the hallway.
He’d appeared dressed and ready to exercise. Whether he went to a gym or was outside kicking his own ass, she hadn’t a clue. Told herself she didn’t really care, either.
Really.
She sighed, grabbed her cup of coffee, and sipped. Her husband ignored her. Avoided her. After that mishap at the restaurant, he’d gone to great lengths to keep a healthy amount of distance between them.
Because really. Her husband was freaking Jared Quinn. She could be climbing all over that and claiming him as hers for approximately the next eleven months. Instead, she was either working her tail off or adding to her tail by cooking an inordinate amount of delicious goods in Jared’s amazing—and amazingly unused—kitchen.
She dropped her head into her hands and groaned. That stupid stipulation. Her stupid, ridiculous heart and fear of getting hurt. For once, she wanted to throw all worries aside and go after what she really wanted. If he walked through that door at that very moment, she just might. She was fired up, turned on, frustrated, and on edge.
Pushing him away had been the last thing she’d wanted to do. Spending that little amount of time with him had been…fun. Interesting. Arousing. He wasn’t just some puffed-up football player throwing around the charm to any woman within a one-inch vicinity.
He’d been attentive. Sweet. And then she’d blown it by reminding him about the no-sex clause in the contract. He’d respected that, set her away from him, and seemingly wiped his hands clean of his foolish wife.
But as she got to know him a little bit better, sh
e realized she actually liked him. He was funny, thoughtful. Sexy, and maddening as hell. Kind when he wanted to be, though that hadn’t been much lately.
If she could hit rewind she so would, anything to get back to that point again. When they were in the limo together and he’d pulled her into his arms. Those firm yet soft lips pressed to hers, his tongue in her mouth, his big, warm hands on her backside…
The front door slammed, making her jump, and she waited with breathless anticipation. Jared strode through the house, his breathing harsh, his body damp from the misty fog outside and…sweat. Sheridan watched him from her perch on the stool at the kitchen counter, eating him up with her gaze.
He looked amazing. Navy blue skullcap on his head, wavy strands of wheat-colored hair sticking out from the bottom. A tight, long-sleeved blue T-shirt clung to his broad shoulders and muscular chest, the rust-colored Hawks emblem emblazoned in the center. Black Nike shorts that hung almost to his knees, a bottle of water clutched in his hand, the epitome of the sexy athlete just finished with his morning workout.
Leaning against the counter, he tilted his head back and drank, giving her an unabashed view of everything that was the glory of Mighty Jared Quinn, star quarterback. The way his throat moved as he drank, the delineated muscles pressing against the tight shirt, the bulge of his biceps…
Sheridan swallowed hard. This being married to a sex god stuff was extremely difficult. Especially since she wanted her new husband so badly, but he barely paid any attention to her. He’d rather avoid her, which hurt more than she cared to admit.
Sighing, she hung her head, staring at her empty plate. Instead of having wild monkey sex with Jared freaking Quinn she’d taken to baking—when she wasn’t painting. Eating that second blueberry muffin earlier might’ve been a bad idea. It felt like a lead weight in her stomach, especially when she looked at Jared, who was in peak physical condition, and she so wasn’t.
“Good run?” She lifted her head just as his gaze zeroed in on her.
“Yeah.” He set the metal water bottle on the counter with a soft clank. “I should take a shower.”