WMIS 03 Play With Me (32 page)

“Do
you have an appointment?” she asks.

“Uh,
no. I’m sorry, I’m a friend. I didn’t realize I should make an appointment.”

“Please
have a seat and I’ll see if she’s free.”

Jenny
calls Jules’ office, and less than fifteen seconds later, Jules opens her
office door with a wide smile on her pretty face.

“Hi!
Come in.”

I
follow her into her office and am stunned by the view of the Space Needle and
the Sound.

“Wow,
that’s some view.”

“I
know. We lucked out on this space.” She grins and leads me to a couch. “What’s
up?”

“I
just wanted to return your dress, and honestly get the hell out of Will’s house
for a while. That man is grumpy as hell when he’s hung over.”

Jules
laughs and nods. “Yeah, he’s not a good patient. If he’s ever sick, just steer
clear.”

“I
could have used that warning yesterday.” I try to hand Jules her freshly
dry-cleaned dress, but she frowns at me.

“Why
are you returning the dress?”

“Because
it’s yours.”
What the hell?

“No,
it’s not.”

“What
are you talking about?”

Jules
sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. “Will didn’t tell you?”

“Tell
me what?”

“Meg,
Will bought the dress for you. He just had Natalie and I call the designer and
make the arrangements. This was never my dress.” She smiles softly.

I’m
stunned. My mouth drops, and I look at the beautiful dress in my hands.

“How
much was this dress?” I ask her.

“It
doesn’t matter; it was a gift, Meg.”

God,
she sounds just like her brother.

“What
about the spa? The shoes? The underwear?”

“Those
were all Nat and me. Will just bought you the dress.”

“And
the diamond earrings,” I murmur.

“He
got you diamond earrings?” she asks with a wide smile.

“Yeah,
they’re gorgeous.” I sigh happily. “I should be mad, but honestly, I love this
fucking dress. I want to wear it every day.”

Jules
laughs. “It’s so perfect for you. Will picked it out himself, you know.”

“He
did?”

“He
did,” she confirms. “I heard about what he did last night when you guys were
leaving. Wanna talk about it?”

I
squirm uncomfortably in my seat. “I’m not mad about it.”

“But
you’re not happy.”

I
shrug. “He was drunk.”

“Spill
it, McBride.” Her voice is firm, and I know I’m not leaving here without
talking to her, and frankly, I need to talk to her.

I
need to talk to someone.

“Jules,
what the hell does he see in me?” I frown and look down at my hands. “I guess
that’s what it comes down to. He can have anyone he wants.”

“Why
is it so hard for you to believe that he wants you? Meg, you’re fantastic.”

“But…”
I shake my head, but she interrupts me.

“No
buts. Will adores you, Megan. I’ve never seen him like this.”

“He’ll
get tired of me.”

“Stop
it. Now you’re just being a pussy, and I don’t have time for this shit.” My
eyes go wide and I raise my eyebrows.

“How
do you really feel?” I ask dryly.

“Will
is famous, Meg. None of us can change that, and I don’t think he wants to
change that. He’s good at what he does.”

“Yes,
he is,” I agree.

“There
will always be groupies. He will always get recognized, especially around this
town. Will’s never really cared about all that bullshit.” She shrugs. “It just
goes with the job. But Meg, if every time a woman tries to get his attention it
makes you start to question his feelings for you, or whether you deserve him,
you will never be able to make this relationship work.”

“What
are you saying?” I ask her.

“If
you aren’t in it for the long haul, willing to pull your big-girl panties up
and deal with the bullshit that comes along with being famous, then cut your
losses now rather than later.”

I
don’t have any words. I just sit and stare at her, then look over at the dress,
and back to her.

“The
thought of being without him kills me,” I whisper.

“Then
trust him when he says he loves you. He means it. Enjoy him. Love him back.”

She
looks so damn proud of herself.

And
she’s right. He’s never given me a reason not to trust him.

“Okay.
Thank you. For everything.”

“You’re
welcome.” She pulls me into a tight hug and then walks me to her door. “I’ll
see you Saturday.”

* * *

Just
when I walk through my front door, my phone rings.
Football Star
reads
on the display.

“Hey
there,” I answer.

“Where
are you?” God, he’s so grouchy.

“I’m
at home. Just got here.”

“Why?”

“Because
I just left your sister’s office and I needed to come home for a while. I see
you’re still as charming as you were this morning.”

He
sighs. “Sorry. I slept too long.”

“Jules
told me about the dress, Will.”

He
swears under his breath. “Great, so now I guess you’ll bitch at me about
spending too much money on that too?”

“Actually,
I was going…”

“Because
I’m sick of trying to give you nice things and you keep telling me I shouldn’t,”
he interrupts. “Do you have any idea how much money I make?”

“No,
I don’t care…”

“I
just signed a one hundred million dollar contract, Megan.”

Holy
fuck.

“I
can afford to buy you dresses and earrings and take you on trips.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yes.
I was going to thank you for the dress because I really love it and I love that
you picked it out. But clearly you’re still in jack-ass mode, so I’m going to
let you go get over this fucking hangover that has you growling at me like a
wounded bear and get some things done around my own house. I’ll see you later.”

I
hang up before he can respond and toss my phone on the counter top in the
kitchen.

I
throw in a load of laundry, tidy my bathroom and clean out the fridge, swearing
at grumpy football players who don’t know how to hold their liquor.

Jackass
.

And
then it occurs to me: I don’t think he’s eaten today. Unless he ate while I was
out, but Will requires a hell of a lot of food, and with that hangover, which
he’s not used to, I’m quite sure he hasn’t eaten.

So
I take a quick stock of my freezer and pantry and send him a text.

Be
at my place in an hour.

* * *

The
lasagna is resting on the tabletop and I’m just pulling the garlic bread out of
the oven when Will rings the doorbell.

I
open the door to find him standing there, freshly showered, with a dozen pink
roses, and I melt just a little.

“I’m
sorry I’m a jackass.”

“Come
inside, jackass.” I let him in and push the buttons on the alarm like I’m
supposed to when I open the door, earning a wide smile from Mr. Overprotective.

“You
set the alarm.”

“I
did.” I shrug like it’s no big deal. “You seem to like it when I do that.”

“I
do.” He holds the flowers out to me. “These are for you.”

“Thank
you.” I bury my nose in them and take a deep breath. “They smell wonderful.”

“Like
you,” he whispers.

“Don’t
think being cheeky will redeem you from your jackassery.”

“Jackassery?”
He asks with a laugh. “Where do you come up with these words?” He follows me
into the kitchen where I put the flowers in the water.

“Where
did you get that lasagna?” he asks, his eyes wide and pinned to the pan of
bubbly goodness on the table.

“I
made it.”

“What?”
His eyes dart to mine and he pins me with a glare. “You
made
that?”

“Yeah.”
I toss the bread in a basket and set it on the table, along with plates and
silverware.

“You
can cook?”

“Of
course.”

“You’ve
been holding out on me?” He crosses his arms over his chest and looks
down-right pissed off, which makes me laugh.

“Will,
you never asked me if I could cook. You just assumed I couldn’t.” I smile
softly at him. “Are you hungry, babe?”

“God,
I’m fucking starving.” He sits at the table, but instead of letting me sit in
my chair, he pulls me into his lap and kisses me hard. “I’m so damn sorry for
today and for last night. Did I really flirt with another woman with you
standing right there, or was that a nightmare?”

“You
did.” I cup his cheek in my hand. “I’m okay.”

“I’m
never drinking again. I swear.”

“I’m
okay, Will. I trust you.” I smile up at him as I pull my fingers down his sexy
face. “I thought you were hungry.”

“God,
yes.” He pushes me out of his lap and digs into the lasagna. “And after I eat
this, I’m hungry for you.” His blue eyes follow me as I sit in my chair and
take a bite of garlic bread.

“Sounds
like a plan.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

It
was, perhaps, the most beautiful wedding I’d ever been to in my life. We’ve
just left Jules and Nate’s wedding and  are riding in limos to the reception
site, a beautiful country club in Bellevue. Jules chose to play it safe, with
it being fall, and is keeping the whole event indoors.

I
lean on Will’s arm, link our fingers, and sigh happily.

“That
was beautiful.”

“Jules
looked really happy,” Stacy agrees. We are riding with Stacy and Isaac and
their kids and Caleb and Matt.

“The
twins were adorable flower girls,” I remark. Josie and Maddie had fluffy, soft
pink dresses on and their hair twisted up in sweet little up-do’s.

“I
think it was sweet of Jules to have Livie and Soph wear similar dresses too,”
Stacy says with a soft smile.

“Are
we going to talk about dresses all day?” Caleb asks with a frown.

“Uh,
Caleb, it’s a wedding,” I reply dryly. “We’re going to talk dresses and shoes
and flowers all day.”

“Shit,”
he mutters and pulls on the collar of his white suit shirt.

“You
look very nice,” I tell him with a sweet smile. And it’s true. He looks damn
hot in a suit, all broad shoulders and tan skin. He grimaces.

“Thanks.”

“Are
you flirting with my brothers again?” Will asks me with a grin.

“Yep.
Get used to it.” I kiss his cheek. “But you’re my favorite.”

“Gee,
glad to hear it, babe.”

“Here
we are.” Isaac props little Liam on his shoulder and we all follow him out of
the limo. The other cars have pulled up around us, so all the family is
arriving at the same time. The rest of the guests should already be inside.

I
can hear the band playing inside. They sound good. I wonder who Luke got to
play?

“Ready?”
Will asks and holds his arm out for me.

“Yes,
let’s party!” I take his arm and he escorts me inside along with everyone else,
Jules and Nate bringing up the rear.

Once
we’re all in, Jules’ dad takes a mic and announces the newly married couple.

“It
is my great honor to introduce you all to Mr. and Mrs. McKenna!”

Applause
erupts and the happy couple enters the hall, smiling broadly, absolutely
glowing.

If
it wasn’t so fantastic, it would be disgusting.

Jules’
dress is just flat-out amazing, which doesn’t surprise me. It’s white, and
almost Grecian in style, flowing up one shoulder and gathered with rhinestones.
Rhinestones cascade down the mostly-open back, holding the dress together. It’s
floor-length, and as she walks, Tiffany-blue shoes peek out. Her something
blue.

I
scan the elegant room, taking it all in. The guests are beautifully dressed,
wandering around, chatting or finding their assigned seats at one of the many
round tables, set with soft pink linens and large pink bouquets of flowers and
tea-light candles.

The
whole room glows. The band is playing out of my sight, in an adjoining room,
where I’m assuming the stage and dance floor are. I can see French doors that
open between the two rooms, so those seated at the tables can watch the band
and the dancers. People are already wandering in to listen, and they seem to
recognize the band.