Page 21 of The Game Plan

She’s right about one thing, I’d try to convince her sex is a fucking brilliant idea, if she didn’t make me sign away my manhood on this chastity paper.

“I’ll sign your rules but I want to add some of my own,” I tell her, hovering over the ridiculous signature block.

It’s almost funny watching her fight her irritation. “What are your rules?”

“You stop wearing his ring.”

“I would, except my fake husband got me a Haribo one and I ate it while nursing my hangover.”

I snort. “Fair. Again. But I’m not your fake husband. Like it or not, I’m your reeeeeeally inconvenient one and if we’re going to let the world know, I want you to be wearing my ring, not one that jackass gave you.”

“Fine. I’ll buy a different ring.”

I’ll be buying my wife’s ring, even if she is going to throw it back at me in three months’ time. That’s my end of the bargain for not being presented publicly as a complete jackass, I suppose.

She checks her watch, again. “Okay, I have to go to Pilates now.”

“We’re just getting into it.”

“Yes, which is why I wanted to have this discussion at 9 a.m. but you said no. Then you were thirty-three minutes late for our 10 a.m. and⁠—”

I stand, holding her lips together gently like a duck’s bill as she tries to quack. Damn, she smells good. Not her usual work scent; that smells like a boss-girl. And not that dark, sexy scent she wore in Vegas that drove me wild when mixed with bourbon and her little black dress. No, this is fresh, and summer’s morning. Bright. A hell of a lot brighter than her attitude with me.

“One more rule,” I say, my voice breaking for some reason.

“What?” she murmurs, almost incoherently. I let her lips go and find myself staring at them, suddenly remembering how they felt in Vegas. When she hadn’t yet become the death sentence for my dating life.

“Move in with me.”

She chokes. Genuinely chokes so bad that I have to pat her back.

“No,” she eventually manages.

“Okay, great, so when we’re reported as living in separate places, how do you, PR guru, suggest we fakesplain that and maintain this believable marriage?”

If looks could kill…

“Look, we’re both going to be on the road a lot as soon as the preseason games start. It doesn’t make sense for you to waste money on this crappy place, when I have a condo more than big enough for two.”

She frowns. Like everyone else, she might think I’m stupid, but this is smart.

“Separate bedrooms?” she asks.

“Until you decide to break your own rules, yeah.”

“I will not break the rules. Separate bathrooms?”

“’Course.”

“What about when you want to bring someone home? Will you let me know, so I can check into a hotel or something?”

“Sienna, I’m not a complete dick. I won’t be bringing anyone back; isn’t that in the rules? You and me in our unhappy, loveless, sexless marriage, baby. That’s all I could ever want.”

Suddenly her frown breaks into a smile, which bubbles into laughter. Then she holds out her hand for me to shake.

“Deal?” I ask.

“Deal.”