Page 3 of Accidentally Falling for My Fake Wife

I consider taking a seat at a table and trying one more time to see if I can find words to start this new story but then decide against it. There’s no point in forcing myself to write if I don’t even have a small idea of where the story is going.

These are times I really wish I was a plotter and not a pantser. You know, someone who outlines their entire story, rather than someone who flies by the seat of their pants.

I’ve tried plotting. I. Just. Can’t.

I head to the front door and it opens. Bill, Pleasant Hollow’s local mechanic, is there holding it open for me.

“Thank you, Bill,” My lips lift at the corners.

“You’re welcome, Susie.” He tips his hat and winks at me as he heads in.

For a moment I wonder if a story about a mechanic would work, but I quickly shake it off asinconceivable. I can’t help but chuckle at Vizzani’s voice from thePrincess Bridespeaks in my head. Sometimes even I can’t handle how dramatic my mind can be.

There’s a buzz against my leg. My heart jumps and I shift around my laptop and coffee so I can reach into my purse and grab my phone.

Once I’m holding it up a slow wide grin crosses my face. Finally.

Chapter Two

Adam

“Adam, I promise thisis going to be a good move for your career.” Finn’s voice soothes through the speaker phone.

The clear turquoise water of the Caribbean Sea does nothing to calm the anxiety I’m feeling at the knowledge that my team, the Jaguars, are trading me to the Mavericks.

It’ll be the first time I haven’t played with my brother since we began playing football at the age of eight. My twin, Steve, and I have basically done everything together since we were in our mother’s womb. This isn’t the worst thing that could happen—we’ll only be a plane ride away—but it has shaken me up more than I would’ve thought.

Being traded is something that you know is a possibility when you’re a player in the NFL. It’s a business first. The players are the pieces, or cogs, of the machine and building a team that will win the big game is the only goal.

I just never expected the feelings that would come with that: rejection, fear, uncertainty, not to mention change.

I hate change.

I lift up my hand and try to rub the tightness that’s been in my chest since Finn gave me the news last night.

Seagulls fly overhead squawking loudly while the calm repetitive sound of the ocean murmurs in the background.

“The Mavericks have a great organization and are beyond excited to have you joining them,” Finn’s voice plays among the calming sounds. “They’ve been trying to arrange a trade before the beginning of the season, but the Jags weren’t interested.”

“Until Smith went down,” I mumble.

“Until Smith went down.” Finn echoes.

Michael Smith was the Jags’ tight end. He was a massive part of the offensive attack and one of our quarterback’s only strong targets. When he went down, they needed to trade for someone on offense who could be a strong replacement.

I’m just a casualty of those circumstances.

Finn Mitchell has been my and Steve’s agent since we were drafted. He’s one of the best agents in the game. Not only does he make sure his players are taken care of, but he’s always working to get them the best possible deal. More importantly, he’s a good friend and someone I trust.

“Steve called me this morning.” I'm not surprised by that news. I lean my forearms against the balcony railing. “He told me you’re taking this trade really hard.”

“Was it me getting on a plane and heading to the Bahamas for an impromptu trip that gave him that impression?” I push off the railing, run my hand through my hair and head back into my hotel room.

“The Bahamas, huh?” Finn razzes me. “Must be nice to be a famous football star.”

In spite of myself I feel the corner of my lips lift.

“No. It’s the fact that you haven’t returned his calls. I was actually a bit surprised you picked upmycall.”

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