Game for Marriage Read Online Free Page A

the urge to lean into him. See if he was as hard as he looked.
    He’s a stranger. And what did they always tell you about strangers in elementary school? Stranger danger!
    Yeah. Well, she felt like she knew him, what with him being a celebrity. And he wasn’t a serial killer because, come on, he wouldn’t be able to get away with murder. Everyone would recognize him.
    Besides, what was wrong with a little danger now and then?
    Releasing a shuddering breath, she pushed the silly thoughts from her head. She was being ridiculous. She just needed to relax and go with the flow.
    She slid into the booth, a secret thrill pulsing through her when he slid in after her, sitting extra close. He rested his forearms on the edge of the table, his gaze locked on hers before it dropped to study the glass of water she’d brought with her. “Not going for anything stronger?”
    “I probably shouldn’t.” The more alcohol she consumed, the more of a risk-taker she became. What if she did something crazy, like throw herself at Jared?
    Yeah, so what if you did?
    Working so hard lately meant she’d rarely taken time for herself. She didn’t know what the word “pampering” meant anymore, let alone remembered the last time she went out on a date. She flat out didn’t have time for any of that stuff.
    The more she thought about it, the more she believed she deserved a little fun. Jared seemed nice enough. He exuded sex appeal, had a great smile, and well, he was hot.
    And he seemed interested in her.
    So she was allowed one night of indulgence, right? Even if this interlude with Jared never amounted to much more than an hour-long conversation in a bar, she could soak that up for all it was worth. And if they took it further…
    She didn’t plan on protesting. In fact, she was going to do this. Drink a little more booze, flirt with a handsome celebrity, and hope like hell she didn’t make a fool of herself. No strong, confident woman would turn down a chance to spend the evening with Jared Quinn, so she wouldn’t, either.
    The waitress wandered over, going bug-eyed when she saw Jared. “Um, what can I get you two?”
    Jared ordered a beer, the waitress’ eyes never leaving his face. Not that Sheridan could blame her. He was just so…magnetic, an aura emanating from him that drew her in. Seeing that face again and again on TV, in magazines, plastered on billboards where he wore nothing else but a pair of undies and a smile…yeah. It didn’t matter if you were a sixty-year-old waitress who’d seen it all; he flat-out dazzled.
    “I’ll have a glass of wine,” Sheridan said when the waitress looked at her, her voice firm. Hell yeah, she was having a glass. “Chardonnay, please.”
    The waitress took off, glancing over her shoulder one last time as if she couldn’t help herself. Jared didn’t seem to notice, his attention focused completely on Sheridan, and she found that the tiniest bit thrilling.
    Okay, a lot thrilling.
    “So tell me, how did you become an artist?” He smiled, the interest in his blue eyes clear.
    “It’s my grandma’s fault. She was the creative one of the family and always pushed me. Said I was a natural. With her constant encouragement, I couldn’t not give it a try. My grandma always said to go after my dream.” She took a sip of her water, the memories of her grandma always making her a little nostalgic. “How did you become a football player?”
    “My dad put me on peewee teams, junior leagues. I was almost six-foot by the time I was thirteen, so when I hit high school I was playing on varsity,” he explained, staring at his hands. He spread his fingers wide. “I could always throw far, even when I was little.”
    Her gaze dropped to those million-dollar hands. They were huge. Wide palms, long fingers. She had the sudden urge to touch them. At the very least, feel them on her skin. “Natural-born talent as well, then?”
    “Sure.” He shrugged modestly. “Though I worked hard to get where