Page 101 of Unexpected Shot
I don’t know how to answer, because the thought of this having an end date never crossed my mind. Though, in my defense, I was more worried about getting her to say yes to this than figuring out a time frame.
“I guess we just go until this doesn’t work anymore.”
“Really?” Shelby appears to be shocked by my words. “You’re going to be okay with not dating or having sex for an unknown amount of time?”
“Whoa! Who said anything about no sex?”
I’m joking—partly.
“No sex, Beau. What happened in Vegas needs to stay there.”
“Counterpoint,” I say, holding up a finger for emphasis. “We also got married in Vegas, and that didn’t stay there.”
She playfully shoves me away, simultaneously trying to keep a grin off her face. “I’m being serious. This is hard enough without complicating it by having sex.”
I don’t concede that point—partly because I can still taste her on my lips and I’m jonesing for another taste—and choose instead to go back to her original question.
“Contrary to your belief, Shelby, I don’t date.”
“Really? Since I moved in I’ve counted at least eight women leaving here before the sun was up.”
“Were you spying on me, Belle?”
“No,” she says rather defensively. “I happen to notice things when I go out to the driving range.”
“I’ll let you go with that,” I say, fighting back a smile. “But I will confirm that I don’t date. If you did see anyone leaving here, which I promise you was not eight, they weren’t anyone of importance. No crazy exes. I scratch itches. Find companionship when I feel like it. That’s it. Nothing more, nothing less.”
She starts to ask something, but she brings it back. Whatever it was, I don’t think it was what she says next, but I’m not about to push her. Not tonight. “So then, how long does this last? Also, are we telling anyone what’s actually happened? I mean, none of our friends or your family are going to believe we got married because we love each other.”
We both start laughing at that. “Can you imagine if we tried to tell them our fighting was a ruse the whole time?”
“I can, and I think it would kill your poor mother,” Shelby says. “Gabi would disown both of us for what we put her through.”
“Exactly, which is why we only tell the people we can trust. My parents. Gabi and Maddox. And Theo and Asher.”
“Are they good guys?”
“The best,” I say. “But other than them—and of course Ethan, Kat, and Grayson—no one knows. To the rest of the world? We’re Mr. and Mrs. Beau Devereaux, blissful newlyweds.”
“Blech,” Shelby says, pretending to throw up. “You have to know I’m not taking your name.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” I say. “You just have to pretend to be in love with me.”
“You mean the hardest part of all this.”
I know she doesn’t mean it as a dig—and I do need to remember it was just last week that she legitimately hated me—but I need her to focus on the bigger picture, and how this might not be as hard as she’s making it.
“I know our past isn’t helping, or the situation we’ve found ourselves in, but think about it. We're about to begin our seasons. Most weeks we're on the road, and a lot of the time we won’t even be in the same state. Some weeks I'm going to be here while you’re away, and vice versa. We just need to know our company lines and stay true to the bit. If we're in public, we hold hands. In case there’s a stray camera, we leave no doubt that we’re two people who love each other.
“And then, after the season, we reevaluate. If we think we're in the clear, we end it. We come out with a joint statement that says, while we care for each other, our schedules aren't conducive to a long-term relationship. That we wish each other the best, and we go our separate ways. And if the end of the season comes and we can't separate, then it's one day at a time.”
She lets that sink in, and just when I think I have her fully convinced, she throws me with one more statement.
“You said we have to pretend to be in love. But what I’m worried about is something bigger.”
I think back to what I said, pretty sure I hit all the big parts. “What’s that?”
“That we have to get along.”
