Foolish Games (8 page)

Sophie headed for the door, but her father blocked her way. “Hold up. I do hear what you say. I just assumed the jewelry you make is for your friends. Not to make money.” He ran a finger over the sparkling earring Annabeth had held earlier. “Is this yours? It’s beautiful.”

Hank’s tender tone with his daughter stilled Annabeth’s breathing. She’d always wanted a father to listen to her at her darkest hour. How her life might have been different had she had one. Except then she might not have had Will. And that thought choked her up even more.

“I should go check on the guests,” she said, making her way past them.

“No!” Sophie cried. “Please don’t go, Annabeth. Dad, Annabeth is going to sell my jewelry in her store. We were just talking about it.”

“Is that so?” Hank’s measuring glance focused in on Annabeth. She licked her lips.

“It is, right, Annabeth?” Sophie sounded nervous, as if her father would force Annabeth to retract her offer.

“Yes, we have a deal.” She smiled at Sophie before turning her gaze on Hank, daring him to contradict her.

He contemplated them both before speaking. “On one condition.”

“Daaaad!” Sophie wailed.

“That physics grade has to go up a letter grade before you can work on any new jewelry. If it does, you can spend all summer working in her store for all I care.”

“Really? Can I, Annabeth?” Sophie’s eyes beamed.

Annabeth looked at the girl’s father, who raised his own eyebrow in challenge.

“Sure,” she heard herself saying. “I can always use the help during the summer.”

“Ohmigod! This is so sweet!” Sophie hugged her dad before wrapping her arms around Annabeth. “I’m sooo glad I came today. Meeting you is the best thing that ever happened to me!” She flounced out the door to find Walker.

They both stood there in silence staring at the door. Feeling the need to flee with Sophie, Annabeth retrieved her clutch from the sofa.

“Mrs. Connelly.” Hank’s nearness startled her.

She looked up to find him watching her carefully. “It’s Miss. I’ve only ever been a Miss.”

Hank lifted a hand in agitation and rubbed the back of his neck again. She’d rattled him.
Good
.

“Yes.
Miss.
I apologize.”

He paused for a moment to study her face. Annabeth felt heat flare in her cheeks. He was looking at her differently. Like a man who was interested in her. She’d seen that look many times before. Unfortunately, like the men before him, he wouldn’t find her interesting once he got past her good looks.

Hank seemed to shake himself. “Thank you. For backing me up there. She’s a little . . . impetuous, but she’s a great kid. You shouldn’t worry about having her underfoot all summer, though. Physics doesn’t come that easily to her. She’s not very theoretical.”

Annabeth took exception to his remark. Unexpected motherhood had stalled her own education, and she had only a high school GED. Her son never lorded his Ivy League degree over her head, but she knew she was definitely inferior to him academically. Obviously, Hank Osbourne, with his multiple college degrees, felt the same way about his own daughter.

“Shame on you! You should encourage your daughter to succeed. I truly hope she surprises you. And when she does, I’ll be delighted to have her work for me.”

He didn’t recoil from the bite of her words. Instead, his lips curved into a wolfish grin. “I do, too, Miss Connelly. In fact, I may pay for her tutor to come every night before the final exam in two weeks so she does well on it.”

Annabeth tried to stalk past him, but he stopped her at the door.

“Aren’t you curious about why I want her to succeed?” he breathed into her ear.

She turned her neck to meet his gaze, but said nothing.

He pulled the door open. “Because then I’ll have an excuse to spend my weekends in Chances Inlet with its extraordinary . . . scenery,” he murmured as she stepped over the threshold into the foyer.

Annabeth didn’t dare look back. She was torn—on the one hand, hoping Sophie would surprise her father, but on the other, wary of having Hank Osbourne pursuing her. Hank was a part of her son’s world, not hers. He’d quickly realize that fact when he arrived in Chances Inlet.

The small jet landed smoothly on the runway nestled between the berm and sand.
Will had wasted no time getting them to North Carolina once Dr. Ling had discharged Owen that morning, swiftly whisking them off to Reagan National Airport, where a private plane waited. He’d arrived at the hospital with a state-of-the-art infant carrier, insisting their son be properly strapped in his seat the entire time they were in the air. Julianne was relieved that Owen slept peacefully during the forty-minute flight because, had he been fussy, there was no way she was leaving him in that car seat. Her arrogant, domineering husband could bluster all he wanted.

It had been two days since their marriage and that encounter in the powder room. She’d managed to keep her interactions with Will brief and always in front of witnesses. Once on the plane, however, he was difficult to avoid. He took up most of the cabin, lounging in one of the wide chairs across from Julianne and Owen. It was the first time she’d seen him dressed casually, wearing jeans, sneakers, and a tan golf shirt that brought out the green in his eyes. Not that she saw much of them since he’d spent the trip perusing his iPad while Julianne feigned sleep.

“I made an appointment with a pediatrician in Wilmington next week for Owen’s well-baby visit,” he announced, apparently fully aware she wasn’t sleeping. “I interviewed him yesterday. He comes highly recommended.”

Julianne cracked an eyelid open. Will was watching her, waiting for a reaction, that cool defiant look on his face. His presumptiveness was really starting to rub her raw. Dr. Ling had already referred her to a pediatrician located in Chances Inlet, a former medical professor of hers at Duke, now in private practice in the small town. Julianne had the woman’s name tucked in her purse.

“I’ve already taken care of it,” she said, closing her eyes again. Not exactly true, but she planned on taking care of it once they landed.

She heard Will snap the case of his tablet closed. “Really? Because you weren’t even taking notes when Dr. Ling was discharging him. Do you even have a vague idea of the number of checkups and inoculations Owen needs in the next several months? Or do you plan to parent the same way you live your life, by the seat of your pants?”

Julianne was thankful her seat belt was still securely snapped around her waist; otherwise, she might have flown out of the chair and throttled him. Her eyes were wide open now, and she could only imagine what he saw reflected in them. Not that he registered any reaction. His opinion of her stung, however. She wasn’t the flaky artist her brother constantly made her out to be. But she didn’t live her life encumbered by rigid rules prescribed by society, either.

“I didn’t need to take notes, because you, Mr. Ivy-League-brownnoser, were doing such a great job at it. And yes, I know exactly the protocol for well-baby visits. I had several months of pregnancy to memorize it.” She reached down to pull on a sock Owen had kicked off in his sleep. “Our deal was that I’d be the dutiful wife in public, but you aren’t dictating how I mother my son.”

Will’s jaw clenched at her slip, but Julianne reminded herself she was trying to get along. She flailed a hand in the air before he could correct her with some acerbic rebuttal.

“Pardon me. When
our
son”—she was gratified she didn’t choke on the word—“has an ear infection or a fever, I’m not hauling him off to a doctor forty minutes away when I can push him in a stroller to a well-qualified,
well-liked
physician two blocks down the street.”

Will hesitated, concern briefly flickering in his eyes, before opening his iPad once again. “I have an article on homeopathic remedies for ear infections.”

She slumped back against the seat. Undoubtedly he had entire research manuals on childcare loaded onto his tablet. He was apparently trying to debunk the dumb-jock myth single-handedly.

“You aren’t going to be able to develop a game plan for your son. He’s a living, breathing entity and things are going to happen, as we’ve already discovered. We’re going through with this ruse so you can bond with Owen. If you’re stressed about every little thing, he’ll sense it.”

His only reaction was a brief tightening of his fingers on his iPad. “I’m organized and efficient. Having a plan leads to
less
stress.”

Julianne rolled her eyes. “Right! You’re wound so tightly . . .”

Will tossed his iPad onto the chair beside him. Julianne’s breath caught in her throat as he stretched forward in his seat, his mouth hard. She should have known better than to bait him, but she was tired of his domineering manner and, well, she was just plain tired. And alone. And, truth be told, a little bit scared. In theory, marrying Will and returning to the small town where he grew up sounded doable. But now that she was actually living it, without the protective cocoon of her friends—Sebastian, Carly, and even Nicky—she wasn’t sure how she was going to pull it off. The ever-present sexual tension simmering between her and Will certainly didn’t help.

“If I’m stressed, Princess, it’s because I find myself having to totally restructure my off-season with a kid I didn’t know I had and a wife I don’t want.”

The force of his words sent her pressing further against the seat back. Of course he didn’t want her as his wife. It hurt to know that here was another man who didn’t envision her as a permanent part of his life. She turned her gaze to the window so as not to let him see how he could wound her. He already had enough power over her.

The pilot’s voice came over the intercom, shattering their stony silence.

“Hey, Will, we’re five minutes from wheels down, so make sure everything is secure back there, will ya?”

Will was quiet for a moment before switching on the intercom and answering. “Thanks, Ron.”

The ocean stretched out beneath the wing of the plane, and Julianne’s stomach did a flip-flop. She knew Chances Inlet was a small town located at the junction of the Cape Fear River and the Atlantic Ocean, but she hoped Will’s house was at least a few blocks inland. She didn’t do well near the sea, not since it had taken her mother from her.

“He’s still strapped in?” Will asked.

She forced herself not to roll her eyes again as she peeked over at Owen, still sleeping peacefully, a bubble of spit dancing on his pursed lips. Her heart melted as she looked at her beautiful son. Gratitude for Will’s contribution to Owen’s creation and saving his life dulled a little of the animosity she currently felt for him. She pulled the blanket up over the blue onesie decorated with Clifford the Big Red Dog, and suddenly a vision of a lace christening gown danced before her eyes. She blinked, but the gown remained fixed on her brain. Relief flickered through her limbs.
Perhaps her gift wasn’t gone, after all.
It was the first time in months she’d conjured up a design, and her fingers itched to sketch it. But just then, the plane’s wheels hit the runway with a bump and Owen woke up howling.

Will took care of unloading their luggage while Julianne fed and changed the baby. When she emerged on the tarmac twenty minutes later, it was to find Will leaning against a gleaming SUV, chatting up a leggy blonde dressed in jean shorts and a white tank top. She was perched barefoot on the hood like a life-sized hood ornament. The girl—she couldn’t have been more than twenty—looked like she was posing for a new-car ad, the wind blowing back her hair as her perfect pink mouth smiled seductively at Will.

“Oooh!” she squealed as she slid off the car and made a beeline toward Owen. “Is this your baby?”

Julianne just barely resisted the urge to pull the carrier holding her son up to shoulder height just to watch the girl fall flat on her face.

“He’s sooo cute,” she cooed as she looked up at Julianne. “Hi! I’m Brandi. With an
i
.”

“Of course you are,” Julianne couldn’t resist saying. Brandi-with-an-
i
probably dotted her
i
with a heart. Julianne hated the stab of self-doubt that coursed through her stomach. She’d taken care with how she’d dressed today, but next to the athletic, tan Brandi-doll, Julianne looked like the doughy, pasty white mom she’d become.

Brandi turned to Will, who stood on the tarmac, hands on hips, coolly observing the exchange. “Will, you naughty boy! Did you tell your wife about us?” She winked at Julianne. “His mama used to babysit me. Will would let me sit on his lap on the school bus every day. He never lets me sit on his lap anymore.” Brandi’s pout was impressive.

Julianne had difficulty feeling sorry for her, figuring there weren’t many laps she was denied. “That’s because he’s married.” It felt good coming out of her mouth, if for only this one time.

“Oh my gosh, I know, a baby
and
a wife! I was shocked when I saw it on Twitter the other day. You’re very sneaky, Will, keeping us all in the dark about your secret love life.”

The wind ruffled Will’s hair, but that did nothing to diminish his Norse god–like good looks standing there, a stern expression on his face as if he owned the airfield. “There were quite a few people in the dark, Brandi.”

Julianne felt the rest of his sentence in the heat of his stare.
Including me
hung in the air between them despite the fact that he didn’t utter another word.

Owen grunted in the carrier, his face scrunched up and red as his lunch worked its way through his little body.

“Is there a changing table in the restroom?” she asked Brandi.

“Sure. There’s even one in the men’s room. Just go on in and make a left at the snack bar. Will and I can catch up while we wait for you.”

That was so not happening. “Actually,
darling
, it’s your turn.” Julianne presented Will with the diaper bag. As usual, his face was inscrutable as he took the baby carrier from her hand.

“Oh, wow, you change diapers, too, Will? You
are
the doting dad, aren’t you?” Brandi exclaimed as she led them through the small terminal to the snack bar. “I’ll just get you both a drink for the ride into town.”

“Nicely executed,” Will growled in her ear as he passed by her side.

Julianne grinned. “You’re welcome. The goal is to make you look like a hero in front of your hometown, isn’t it?”

Will just grunted at her as he used his back to push open the door of the men’s room. Julianne took a step in to follow him before he stopped her. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

“I’m not seriously going to make you do this on your own.” Julianne glanced over her shoulder to make sure Brandi had disappeared into the snack bar. “He’s likely got a landfill in his diaper by the smell of it, and you’ve never changed a baby before, have you?”

“I studied a few videos on YouTube. I’ll manage.”

“Ohmigod! You have got to be kidding me!” It was all she could do to contain her incredulous laughter.

Will obviously wasn’t kidding because he slammed the door in Julianne’s face.

 • • • 

His son had pretty impressive range. Julianne was right, his diaper smelled worse than a locker room after the offensive line had pigged out on Mexican food. But Will was proud he made it through without losing his lunch. He’d just finished getting Owen cleaned when his son proceeded to piss all over him.

“Argh! You little bugger!”

Owen pumped his legs as he sucked on his hands, his eyes wide at the sound of Will’s voice. Will grinned at his son, any anger he might have felt washed away by the precious look on Owen’s face. He felt his own face break out into a smile, something he didn’t often do as he realized he’d forgive his son anything.

Will cleaned him up a second time, thankful that Julianne had a well-packed diaper bag. His earlier remark about her parenting by the seat of her pants was a little harsh, but he resented her relaxed, casual demeanor on the plane.

It took nearly ten minutes to get Owen changed; Julianne had impatiently knocked twice already by the time Will emerged from the restroom, his shirt draped over his shoulder. Julianne’s eyes went from concern to merriment at the sight of his T-shirt-clad chest.

“Apparently, you didn’t watch that YouTube video that closely,” she teased, eyes dancing.

“I didn’t count on a sneak attack.”

“You must not have been a Boy Scout. You weren’t prepared.”

Will tossed the diaper bag at her as she laughed openly at him.

“I hope the damage was minimal.”

“I’ll live. I’ve been hit by worse.”

“Oh, that’s right, you’re a big fearless football player. A little pee certainly won’t bring you down.”

They reached the car, a new Volvo SUV with the highest safety rating. He’d bought it sight unseen, so that Owen would be protected in case of an accident. Will snapped the baby carrier into its base in the backseat as Julianne climbed in beside him.

“Is this one of the perks of being a big-name jock—you get a new car every few months?”

It was for a lot of athletes, but most of the new cars Will received for endorsements or awards he gave to charity. He could drive only one at a time, after all. Will ignored her question as he slid into the driver’s seat and started the car. “Make sure he’s fastened securely.” He glanced in the rearview mirror in time to see Julianne roll her eyes at him. Again.

“Yes, Dad,” she murmured as she whispered something in Italian to Owen and laughed.

Owen cooed back at her, and Will felt a twinge of jealousy that his son was interacting with Julianne and not him.
Or was it that she was giggling with Owen and not Will?
“The car is yours to use while we’re in town.”

Julianne was silent for a moment. “I guess that means our trust issues have evolved significantly if you’re allowing me to drive your car.”

“I’m trusting you with the car, just not the car seat. That, I’m keeping in my office.”

She laughed again, but this time it sounded more patronizing than the laugh she shared with Owen. “Great. The first place I’m going is the jewelry store to buy you a wedding band so the Brandis of this town don’t embarrass themselves by throwing themselves at you.”

Will turned off the state highway onto the main drag of Chances Inlet as he bit back his second smile of the day. Could it be she was actually jealous of little Brandi Hamilton? More likely she just didn’t like being the only one who was designated off-limits. Either way, he had to admire her tenacity. “I believe we’ve already covered this, Princess; I’m not wearing a ring.”