“I’ll lose the track,” she murmured.

“Yes, you will. And you’ll lose my cock,” he added, before slipping his tongue into her ear.

She gave a small gasp. “I will?”

“Yes. If we end this marriage, then it wouldn’t make sense for us to see each other again. I’m not designed that way. I’m either all in or all out.”

“It’s a lot to lose.”

He could only hope that longing was at least in some small way for him along with her family business.

“It is. But it’s your choice.”

“I started this. I need to finish this. It’s not fair to you otherwise.”

Rhett turned her around so he could see her. He laced his fingers through hers. “Shawn. This is about what you want. Don’t do this out of fairness or concern for me. Do what you want, what’s right for you.” He meant that. He wasn’t worried about anyone’s opinion, and he saw no sense in doing something you already knew you would regret. Life was too short.

She stared at him for a second then gave a short nod. “You’re right. I’m already in. I want to stay in.”

The relief he felt surprised him. So he buried his hand in the back of her hair and tugged her to him. “The passion between us is real. That’s all we have to show people.”

“It is, isn’t it?”

“Very real.” He kissed her, a deep, plunging mating of their mouths, a demand and a promise all at once. He wanted to bury his cock in her the same way, a wet tangle of desperation. As soon as he felt her give in, her arms snaking around his neck, he broke off the embrace. Establish control. Choices outside of the bedroom were hers, but sex was his arena.

She gave a moan of disappointment.

“We need to go back upstairs,” he told her with a swat on her backside. “Come on.”

Her eyes darkened at his touch, and he knew she was remembering exactly what he was thinking about—his palm slapping against her bare flesh, her bottom raised for his pleasure, for her punishment.

They were so not finished with what they had started.

Last night had only been the beginning of what he could make her feel.

As he took her hand and pulled her up the steps, he felt the hot, thick taste of anticipation in his mouth and something else he couldn’t define.

* * *

SHAWN let Rhett hold her hand as they walked up the basement steps, more confused than ever. What had she just agreed to?

To continue this sham of a marriage, deceiving everyone important in their lives. For what? The track? Was it really that important to her?

Weren’t the people in her life more important than a business?

But the truth was, they were all intertwined in her life. Business was pleasure and the track was the people she had grown up with, driven with, worked with now. Racing was her life, and it was to the majority of the people she considered the important friendships and influence on her life.

She also didn’t want to lose Rhett. Not yet. Not when she was experiencing something she never had before, not when she was realizing that there was a world of pleasure she had never even tapped into. Not when she was curious as to what was happening between them, wondering how far it could go, wanting to see what made Rhett tick as a man.

Plus, she also had to admit, that just for a little while, she wanted to borrow Rhett’s family. She wanted to belong, to fit into a large, boisterous family who cared so deeply about one another. She missed her grandparents, and her brother and mother were no cure for the void. In fact, her mother was quite the opposite. Being married to Rhett, Shawn got to voyeuristically fill up her familial well, and while that was no doubt wrong of her, she couldn’t help but enjoy it now that she was in it.

Even if it meant wedding-party planning.

Rhett’s mother was on the couch, scrolling through her cell phone. She gave them a look that indicated she knew precisely what they had been doing. “Did you get lost?”

“Shawn was just showing me how to use the washer.”

Sandy snorted. “You know how to do laundry. You’ve been doing it since you were six. But I understand, you’re newlyweds. I’ll get out of your hair.”

“Oh, you don’t have to leave, Sandy,” Shawn protested, embarrassed by how long they’d been gone and remembering that she had seen her vibrator earlier. One afternoon and her mother-in-law knew more about her sex life than she cared to contemplate.

But Sandy waved her words off. “It’s time for me to go home and cook for Senior. He gets cranky if dinner is late.”

“What were you two laughing about anyway?” Rhett wanted to know. “I’m a little scared to find out.”

“We were looking at designer tuxes from these bridal magazines the twins brought,” his mother said. “They’re ridiculous. I don’t know a man in Charlotte who would wear a skinny tux in red.”

Shawn grinned at Rhett’s expression. He looked like someone had suggested removing his testicles.

“Neither do I,” he said emphatically.

“And I showed Shawn a baby picture of you we might use for a slide show.”

“Oh, Lord,” was his opinion. It was accompanied by a wince.

“We scheduled a photo shoot for you on Thursday out at our house,” Sandy continued.

Now Rhett looked like he had indigestion. “A photo shoot? For what?”

“For your wedding announcement.”

“Jesus,” he muttered. Then louder, he added, “I’m not photogenic, you know. Do we really need to do this?”

Shawn grinned, feeling a whole lot better now that he was aware of what she’d been subjected to all afternoon. “You’d take better pictures if you smiled.”

He glared at her.

Sandy nodded in agreement. “That’s what I always tell him!”

“I can’t smile when someone is shoving a camera in my face. It’s so fake.”

“Well, buck up,” was his mother’s final opinion. “You’re doing it. What are you going to tell your kids someday if there isn’t a single picture of the two of you together?”

That knocked the grin off Shawn’s face. Kids? Good God. The unexpected image of a couple of toddlers bouncing on their bed popped into her head. For a split second, she could have sworn she actually felt a fluttering in her womb, like it was yawning awake after a lifetime of slumber, shaken to awareness by the idea of procreation with Rhett. Holy crap. Not good.

“I don’t have an answer for that, honestly,” Rhett told his mother.

“You are going to have kids, right? And sooner rather than later. I understand that Shawn is already in her thirties.”

Huh. The fluttering stopped. In fact, her uterus might have cringed in horror at that reminder.

“Mom!” Rhett gave his mother a stern look. “I’m not discussing our procreation plans with you two days after our wedding. In fact, I’m not discussing our procreation plans with you ever.”

Because there would be no procreation plans.

She should feel relieved.

Instead, she just felt unsettled. She was only thirty-three, or would be in two weeks anyways. That was young still. She had a decade before the factory would shut down. Or at least seven years. Four, if she really wanted to have the best shot at a quick conception. Two, if she didn’t want to be considered high risk.

Holy shit.

When had this happened? When had she even cared about having children? Now she was suddenly realizing that by the time this marriage with Rhett was over, she would have to start over dating, as a divorcée, and then who knew when she could even contemplate starting a family?

“That doesn’t change the facts. Shawn, you want children, right?” Sandy asked her.

Unable to speak, she simply nodded, her stomach in knots.

“Then it’s silly to wait five years. Rhett wants kids, too.”

She cleared her throat and managed to choke out, “Rhett is only twenty-five. Maybe he’s not ready.”

“Then he shouldn’t have married a woman almost ten years older than him. Your fertility is dropping like a stone as we speak.”

Now she was officially speechless. Sandy made her sound like her eggs were petrifying, ovaries deflating like a fallen soufflé. She had never felt quite so old or quite so past her expiration date.

“Mom.” Rhett used a tone that brooked no arguments. “That is way out of line. You’ve hurt Shawn’s feelings.”

Sandy did look contrite, but Shawn still felt stung, with no clue what to say.

“I’m sorry, dear, that didn’t really sound right, did it? It’s just that children are such a blessing.”

“We’re not having nine, I can guarantee that,” Rhett told her.

Hell, no. Because even if this were a real marriage, which it wasn’t, Shawn was clearly too old to have nine kids unless they were three sets of triplets. God, she had a headache again. The aspirin from the morning had clearly worn off.

“And you already have enough grandkids to bankrupt you at Christmas, so just chill out. Let’s just focus on being married for a while, and getting to know each other and each other’s families.” Rhett gave a rueful look. “If Shawn is still interested in getting to know the Fords after that introduction.”

“Shawn knows I just have your best interests at heart, don’t you, dear?”

She nodded, even if she had no idea what Sandy’s intentions really were. “Of course,” she managed to say.

Rhett still looked put out. “Momma, if and when we get pregnant, you’ll be the first to know. Otherwise, I’m telling you with all the love in my heart to butt out.”

“Your brother would never talk to me like that,” she sniffed. But to Shawn, her expression looked like she wasn’t genuinely put out. If anything, her love for her youngest son shone through. She admired him for standing up for his wife, it was obvious.

“No,” Rhett agreed. “But he wouldn’t let you make Eve feel bad either. He would just say it in a more charming way.” Rhett turned to Shawn. “And now you’ve witnessed the Ford family dynamic. I’m sorry to say you did not get the charming brother.”

Something stirred in Shawn that she did not want to examine too closely. “No, I got the loyal one.” Leaning over, she kissed his cheek before she could stop herself.

She had the satisfaction of seeing that she had actually caught Rhett off guard. That wasn’t easy to do, yet he looked downright sheepish. His mother was beaming.

“And on that note, I’ll leave you two to your dinner and newlywed shenanigans.” Sandy gave each of them a hug.

Shawn hugged her back and tried to forcibly shove the phrase if and when we get pregnant out of her head. This wasn’t what she had signed on for, but what was more disturbing than anything was her confusion and reaction to marriage, babies, family. She must be missing Pops more than she realized. Or the sex had gone to her head.

As Rhett walked his mother to her car, Shawn busied herself shoving the bridal magazines into a pile and cramming them into the desk in the corner of the living room. Then she carried dirty coffee mugs to the kitchen and filled the sink with soapy water.

“You’re always doing dishes,” Rhett said when he came back in. “Why don’t you use the dishwasher?”

“It’s broken. I don’t have the money to replace it.” It was a hated chore, but then again, weren’t all chores hated by most people?

“What’s wrong with it? Did it actually die, or it’s just not getting dishes clean?”

“It’s not getting the dishes clean. There’s dried old food on them after an hour of water spritzing them. It makes no sense.” Though she wasn’t sure why they were talking about this.

“The jets are probably clogged.”

Before she realized what was going on, Rhett was on the floor, dishwasher door open, parts being inspected. “Where are your tools? I need a screwdriver.”

Was he for real? Shawn swished her hand to make the suds inflate. “You don’t have to fix my dishwasher.”

“It’s no big deal. It’ll take me ten minutes.” He smiled up at her. “Besides, if you’re washing dishes ten times a day, it’s going to cut into our sexy time.”

Oh, geez. She should have known. “I’m not planning to be horizontal the majority of my day. I don’t think doing the dishes is going to ruin our sex life.”

“Just a little insurance.” He stood up and kissed the back of her head. “Where is the screwdriver? And a drill would be helpful.”

“In the basement. Next to the washer and dryer.” She should have left it at that. But she wasn’t wired that way—she was a button pusher. So she added, “And who says I have any intention of having sex with you again? Just because you fix my dishwasher doesn’t mean I will lie down for you any time. I may need some convincing, you know.”