Shawn was pacing in the courthouse hallway when he arrived, a gift bag in his hand, a ring box tucked in his coat pocket.

“I thought you weren’t coming,” she blurted, then seemed to be annoyed with herself for admitting that. “Anyway, how did it go with Clinton? He e-mailed me last night that everything was in order with your background check.”

“Yep. We’re good to go.” He pulled the ring box out of his pocket. “For you.”

Her eyes widened. “You bought a ring? Holy crap, you didn’t have to do that! I figured we’d just get cheap bands from Walmart.”

“So I can look like a tightwad? Screw that.” If everyone thought it was legit, he didn’t want to look like an ass. Besides, when he had walked into that jewelry store, he had wanted to buy something delicate and beautiful for Shawn, something that went with the elegant grace of her long fingers and her fair skin.

There was something about Shawn’s features that intrigued him endlessly. She was strong and athletic clearly, yet parts of her, like her fingers, her lips, her tiny nose, were so profoundly feminine that he couldn’t look away when he was with her. It may be a fake marriage, but she should be wearing a beautiful ring to match her delicateness.

Yeah. This was him not attaching. Fuck.

But when she opened the box and let out a gasp, it was worth it.

“Oh, my God, this is stunning. It’s so pretty, Rhett.”

It was vintage-inspired, white gold, and narrow, the band crusted in diamonds, meant for the elegant hand of an elegant woman. The fact that Shawn was that and a former driver and current track owner and racing enthusiast, made her just about the perfect package.

Too bad none of it was real and he was essentially a warm body she’d hired.

“Let’s do this thing,” he told her, because he found himself doubting the intelligence of this move. He was starting to feel a brooding mood coming on, and that wasn’t going to look good in the wedding picture.

“I like your wedding jeans,” Shawn told him with a smile as her eyes swept over him, the ring box closed again in her hand.

“Thanks. I even washed them before I put them on.” He owned exactly one suit, and he felt like a gigantic ass wearing it, so he’d opted out. He had put on a button-up shirt, though truth be told, it was wrinkled. Hey. It was Friday and two in the afternoon. Who was there to give a shit?

“How thoughtful.”

“You look pretty,” he told her truthfully, though the minute he said it, he hated how lukewarm it sounded. So he added, “But I wouldn’t have objected to some cleavage.”

She was wearing a narrow skirt, tights, and boots, with a red sweater. It was kind of officelike, but it was February and a fake wedding, so he hadn’t expected her to pull out all the stops either. But it wasn’t exactly screaming “We’re in love, I’m so excited.”

Rolling her eyes, Shawn told him, “You should be looking at the doughnut, not the hole.”

Say what? Rhett got an erection instantly just thinking about her hole. “Do not say things like that in public. Seriously. I mean it.”

Her expression took on a mulish quality. “You can’t tell me what to say. It’s a free country.”

“It’s also illegal to have sex in a hallway, so unless you want me to shove you into the restroom and fuck you against the stall wall, I suggest you not talk about your hole or your creamy edges.” A man could only take so much. Surely she could understand that.

Her eyes widened. “Why do you have to be so gross about it?”

That made the tension in his shoulders ease just a little. Shawn was clearly deluding herself if she actually believed she thought it was crude. The truth was, she liked it when he was honest and straightforward about his lust. It was there in her body language, the way she leaned in toward him, the way her breath caught. The tightness of her nipples beneath her sweater.

“Your disgust isn’t even remotely convincing,” he told her. Suddenly he wanted nothing more than to be done with the ceremony and back at her place. He was convinced he could get her to let him inside her with just a little coaxing.

Her knuckles were white on the ring box. “Are we sure we want to do this?”

No. He really wasn’t.

Marrying Shawn might be akin to opening Pandora’s box. It might let out feelings, sexual and otherwise, that he wouldn’t be able to contain again.

“Are you getting cold feet?” he asked, because it bothered him more than he cared to admit that she might bail. “Runaway bride does make for an interesting end to our short-lived relationship. Met me to left me, all in one week.”

Her response was as predicted. Shawn bristled. “Of course I’m not bailing! The track means everything to me. Everything.”

“Then let’s go.” He took her hand firmly in his. “Repeat after me: I do. That’s all we need.”

Shawn looked up at him, her eyes wide with fear. “I do. Don’t I?”

It almost made him laugh. He led her down the hallway and through the glass doors to the reception area to let the clerk know they were there. “Do you have the marriage license?” he asked her.

“Yes.”

Five minutes later they were married. It was easier than renewing his driver’s license. Easier even than getting a flu shot, and for the most part, less painful.

Rhett looked down at Shawn, gauging her mood as he leaned down to kiss her. She looked like she’d hit the wall at Talladega at one hundred and forty miles an hour. Stunned. But when he brushed his lips over hers, she wrapped her arms around his neck and clung to him like a wet kitten.

It was a convincing embrace.

“You okay?” he murmured to her.

That snapped her out of her terrified fog. She said defiantly, “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be? This was my idea.”

“Excellent.” Rhett turned to the clerk. “Can you take our picture with my phone?” He wasn’t sure why it seemed important. It just seemed like someone would ask at some point if they had proof of the ceremony. Or maybe he just wanted a picture of them. He handed her his phone from his pocket and showed her the button to push.

“Sure. Say ‘wedding night!’”

Shawn dutifully repeated it as they smiled at the camera. But Rhett just held her hand, his finger brushing over the ring he’d slipped on her, and tried to smile. It wasn’t his strong suit. Repeating a cheesy phrase was definitely beyond him.

It was possibly the worst wedding picture ever. He was grimacing and Shawn looked like she was being held prisoner by a madman and forced to pretend otherwise.

Shawn gave a nervous laugh as she peered down at the screen on his phone. “Wow. I don’t think that will be our Christmas card next year.”

“Probably not.”

Shawn suddenly seemed to realize how far away Christmas was and that they would in fact be married nine months from now if she wanted to keep her business. Her entire face leached of color. For a horrifying second, he thought she might hit the floor. But she rallied. She thanked the clerk and tugged him by the hand, hard, into the hallway.

“So, you’re moving in on Monday?” she asked as they headed for the parking lot. “I’ll make sure I clear some space for you.” She dropped his hand like he was a disease carrier. “I’ll text you tomorrow.”

Even though he had known she was going to try to ditch him, he hadn’t expected her to look quite so eager to get rid of him. But while he understood her desire for space, it wasn’t going to prevent him from angling for her time, and body. They were both feeling unnerved by what they had just done—hell, they’d gotten married—but what better way was there to ease that tension than by spending the rest of the afternoon in bed together?

“I want to see you tonight. Say ‘wedding night,’” he said as they came to a stop next to her car, giving her a genuine smile.

“I was planning on meeting Eve and my other girlfriends for a drink, to tell them our wonderful news.”

Sarcasm wasn’t a good look for her. It suited Eve more so than Shawn.

“Oh, yeah? Where at?”

“That Mexican place on 150.” Then she got suspicious. “Why?”

“Just being polite, and trying not to be jealous of your friends,” he told her, striving for casual. She didn’t need to know that he was just as tenacious as she was. She didn’t know that he had no intention of letting her walk away that easily. He dropped the gift bag in her lap. “For you.”

Then he leaned forward and kissed her lightly. “My ring looks good on your finger,” he told her, then opened her car door for her. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

Shawn frowned. Her mouth worked, like she was going to say something, but then stopped herself. “Okay. Have a good night.”

“I intend to.”

* * *

SHAWN let Rhett slam her door shut as she turned the ignition to her car. Then he waved and walked away. Her husband. He walked away. Which was what she had wanted him to do, but now that he did, she suddenly felt discontent.

They had gone through with it. They’d gotten married, and she had a whole year to save the track from financial decay. A whole year to be married to Rhett Ford and have his green eyes boring into her on a daily basis.

She had to be totally and completely insane.

The ring on her finger felt foreign and monumental, a total Frodo moment, like it might change her forever. It wasn’t an epic Lord of the Rings journey, but it felt damn close enough to her. It was marriage and she had just defiled the institution by marrying for all the wrong reasons. The right reasons to her, but the wrong reasons in general.

She peeled back the tissue paper stuffed in the gift bag and promptly jammed it back in once she saw what was under it. Red lace. It was underwear of some kind, though she was choosing not to look too closely at the moment.