Chapter 3

Riley managed to avoid court, her family and the media until Friday. News of their marriage had made all the major news outlets. Lucas was milking it for all it was worth, as if the more headlines he made, the more likely John Wilson would be to believe him. Riley had taken the opposite approach. She didn't answer her phone, not even when her boss called from the Bahamas to congratulate her. All emails and texts from her family were answered with: Swamped. Sorry. All will be explained on Saturday.

All wouldn't be explained. She was going to lie to them. To her mom and dad. And the more she thought about it, the more anxious she got.

On Friday, Lucas picked Riley in front of her apartment building. They'd be driving to Philadelphia. Her parents insisted that the entire Matthews family meet Lucas.

After stowing her bag in the trunk, Riley slid into the passenger seat and noticed the two bouquets of flowers in the back.

"One for your mom and one for your grandmother."

That was sweet.

"That was slick," she said instead, annoyed that she'd had to hide for four days and then had to deal with nearly deadlocked traffic for more than three hours.

"I'm just trying to help, honey."

"Don't call me that."

"Sweetie?"

"Not that either."

"Darling?"

She chose to ignore his attempts at marital humor. "We just need to get through two days without any more lies." Impossible. She didn't even like the man. How was she going to convince her family she loved him? "There's still time to confess."

"Why would you do that when we've only got three hundred sixty more days to go?"

"Because I'll be lying to my parents, while you'll be lying to strangers." Something he seemed adept at doing. "What did you tell your parents?"

"That I'm married."

"Can you please be serious."

"I am serious. I told my parents that I did get married last weekend." He stared out the window. "My mother told me that she and my dad are happy for me but it will be beneficial to my health if I bring you over to get formally introduced to the family. I promised my mom that once the media circus died down, you and I will schedule a visit."

"Is that even a good idea?"

"Yes," he said impatiently.

"But that's going to make things complicated. How are we going to get a quick divorce now?"

"We aren't." There was something in his tone she couldn't quite decipher, a hardness she couldn't trace to its root.

His words shouldn't have rocked her so badly. They'd gone into this knowing that their marriage is temporary, albeit it being a legal transaction, but she hadn't considered how the deal was going to be executed on her own personal playing field.

Riley could have a pity party later. Right now, she had to play out the ruse. "We got lucky. My Aunt Morgan is expecting any day, so they aren't coming up. But we'll still have to face my parents, my brother Auggie, grandparents and uncles."

"Are they baseball fans?"

"Yes. But don't think you can charm them with your celebrity status." It was hard to keep the sarcasm from her voice, because it was clear that's the tact Lucas planned on taking. "You make it very easy to hate you." Very, very easy.

"I know," Lucas said before pulling over.

"Why are we stopping? Are you car sick?"

"No." He'd turned in his seat and stared at her. And then he drew something from his pocket. "I got you a ring." A princess cut boulder set in platinum. Five carats, easy.

"You carried that in your pocket? Without a box or a security guard or—"

His smile was different than she'd seen before. Relaxed, more authentic. Friendly. "I have deep pockets."

"Clearly." Riley didn't want to think about how much it cost. "I can't wear it. It's humongous. The weight would drag my knuckles to the ground."

Lucas ignored her objections and slipped it on her finger.

Riley couldn't look away. She tried, too. She tried turning her head, but her eyes were glued to a rock the size of an eraser on her finger. "When we get to the house, you're going to duct tape it to my finger."

"Relax. It's insured." He wore a ring, too. Platinum with channel-set diamonds.

In some small corner of her brain, a little voice whispered the ring was a sweeter gesture than the flowers for her mom. It would please her mother and legitimize things with her father.

The larger, lawyerly part of her brain spoke with more volume. It said its size was corresponding to Lucas' guilt and that she should keep the ring after this was over to account for emotional damages.

"When this is over, I'm giving this back to you," Riley said firmly. She didn't want anything to tie herself to him.

"Wait," Lucas said. "They're going to expect us to be newlyweds. And newlyweds can't keep their hands off each other."

Riley forgot about big rings and stared at his big hands.

"I think we need a practice kiss." He said the words as normally as if he'd asked for mustard with his turkey sandwich.

"No. You can give me polite pecks on the cheek in deference to my parents."

He covered her hand with his. "I don't want you to flinch when I touch you."

She wanted to say, "Then don't touch me." But that small corner of her brain whispered about innocent kisses and sweetness.

Lucas flipped her hand over and laced their fingers together. "Look. We fit. Kissing won't be horrible."

They didn't fit. He is popular, egotistical and media driven. Whereas she…she had always believed in justice for all. She'd crossed the line somewhere and she wasn't sure she could fly her white justice cape anymore.

He leaned across the center console and kissed the corner of her mouth. Her heart pounded so hard, her ears buzzed.

He gave her a tender smile. "Don't think for a minute." He pressed his lips over hers, stealing her breath. "That's right," he coaxed. "Relax."

And then he drew her closer and deepened the kiss.

When he drew back, Riley was trembling inside. Maybe not just inside. Her hands were shaking. She rubbed them across her thighs. "I don't think we'll have a problem convincing them there's a fire between us." She just had to figure out how to play act with fire and not get burned.

…

"I can't do this." Riley collapsed on the full-size bed as soon as she reached the bedroom.

"Having regrets?" Lucas sat in the chair by the door. He stared at her with the intensity he used when studying defensive plays.

It rattled her, that stare. It made her think of that kiss in the car. "It's not right."

"I like to think it was a creative alternative to unemployment, which sounds like another way to say it's right for me." He picked up a photo of her family in front of a Christmas tree. "You're very close to your family aren't you?"

"Yes I am. The next time you marry you should really do a background check before you choose a bride."

"There won't be a next time." He picked up a different photo. This one of she, Auggie and Uncle Josh.

"What's with the constant talk about Maya?"

"Maya's been my best friend since I was five. It's just her and her mom."

"So?"

"So my family sort of adopted them and became very protective of Maya because her father's not around. Maya is the opposite of me. She's always been very outgoing and her paintings are starting to garner attention. She considers it a personal triumph. The pressure to succeed is intense in this family." Understatement of the season.

He raised a brow. "I consider you a success." He took her hand, the one with the supersize wedding ring. "To me you are one beautiful and successful woman Riley Matthew- Friar."

"Thanks for saying that. Logically I know that I shouldn't be competing with Maya nor do I have to but sometimes she gets on my nerves. Anyways, let's not talk about that. It's been a long day and week."

Lucas gave her the polished smile, the one he used as a pro-athlete. And then he tested the box springs with a couple tentative pushes. "A full-size bed? I'm going to crowd you."

She sat bolt upright. "You're going to sleep on the floor, big man."

"But..." He frowned. "I'll get a kink in my back. I have a game in a few days."

"Floor." She pointed as regally as any queen. "Or we're getting a divorce."