Will arched an eyebrow at her. “You want me to just forget you tried to hide my son from me?”
Julianne sat back in the chair, wrapping her arms around her. “No, but I want you to move on from there because, at the time, I thought I was making the best choices for myself and the baby.”
His jaw was clenched so tight, he was surprised he could get any words out. “But the hell with me, right? I’m just some dumb jock who could give a rat’s ass about how many kids I father, is that it?”
“No!” She grabbed the cross around her neck and began to fiddle with it. “I didn’t even know you! When I found out I was pregnant, I was shocked, but I wasn’t going to give him up. I had the money to support a child.”
“I wouldn’t have made you give him up! And you should have stuck around the morning after to at least exchange names, given that the condom broke.”
“Oh.” She bit her lip. “I thought it was just my migraine medicine that made my birth control ineffective. I don’t remember the condom breaking.”
“It was at a pretty pivotal part of the evening, Princess.”
“My medicine makes me a little woozy, so I don’t really remember the evening that much.”
“You don’t remember?” Jesus! The best sex of his life and she’d been stoned?
She didn’t meet his eyes, giving him a little shrug instead. Will felt like his head was going to explode. He closed his eyes and tried in vain to sort out his feelings. Her story was plausible, but he still didn’t trust her. He didn’t want to trust her. Well, at least most of his body didn’t want to.
“Now do you see why we should just start from today and move forward?” She posed the question softly. “Our lives are going to be forever entwined with Owen’s. It would be a lot easier if we could at least get along. For his sake.”
Will rubbed his hands down his face. “You’re not taking him to Italy.” He’d compromise if he had to, but not on that. “You’ll have to tell your clients you’re working from the U.S. until we can arrange something.”
“Not a problem. I’ve . . . I’ve put my work on hold for now. I need to concentrate on Owen.” Her statement surprised him. When he’d Googled her the night before, Will had discovered that Julianne was a rising star in the very competitive design industry. She’d been right when she said she could easily support a child, but what effect would a prolonged absence have on her career? Begrudgingly, he had to admire her devotion to Owen; he only wished that dedication to do what was best for her son had included allowing his father in his life long before the baby’s illness forced her to.
“Owen is just a tiny baby,” she said. “He needs his mother right now. I can get a place here in D.C. or closer to you in Baltimore. You can see him every day. But I can’t be separated from him. Not after I almost lost him.”
Will leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. He had no intention of keeping her from Owen. She was right, the baby needed her. Hell, he didn’t even know how to feed him, much less change a diaper. But in three months he’d be back playing football, and that meant he’d have little time to care for Owen. He needed to bond with him now, to let his son know he wasn’t a fatherless kid who’d be looked on disdainfully by everyone else. Like Julianne, he didn’t want to be apart from his baby right now.
Julianne’s tone became more urgent at his silence. “Please, I’ll agree to joint custody; we’ll live wherever you want us to. I’ll do whatever you want, Will.” The last part came out as a strangled whisper.
He opened his eyes and considered her for a moment. “My place in Baltimore is small and in the heart of the city. The only other home I own is in coastal North Carolina. I planned to spend a couple of weeks or so there during the summer, but I can go now. It’s a big house and the sunshine and sea air will be good for Owen.”
“We’d all live in the same house? Near the ocean?”
Jesus, was she already backpedaling? “A minute ago you said you’d do anything, live anywhere. Was that just lip service, Princess?”
“I meant it! It’s just that babies cry and don’t sleep through the night. Caring for a baby is twenty-four-seven. You need to be sure you know what you’re getting into. You might want some space.”
“I have three months until training camp begins and the season starts up again. Right now I have nothing but time on my hands.” Not exactly true—he had obligations during the off-season—but he wasn’t going to let her martyr herself by putting her career on hold and have it bite him in the ass later on. “You’re not the only one who wants to bond with Owen. And, like I said, it’s a big house. Plenty of room for you, Owen, and me.” He didn’t bother mentioning his mother lived there, too.
Damn, he’d forgotten to call his mother. He needed to before she heard about this from somewhere else.
Annabeth Connelly insisted on living in the small town where she’d grown up on the poor side of the tracks, the same place she’d raised Will. If she ever felt the same contempt for the townspeople who’d treated them with such disdain, she never showed it. Will spent as little time there as possible, going back only when Chase or Gavin were in town. But Gavin was living there indefinitely, sorting out his father’s business after his death of a heart attack, and Will found himself in Chances Inlet more frequently lately.
“Okay.” Julianne wasn’t successful in hiding the reluctance in her voice. But to her credit, she brooked no argument. “As soon as Dr. Ling says Owen can be released, we’ll go to your home.”
Will could only imagine what a homecoming it would be. The locals didn’t have a problem sucking up to him now that he was a famous, rich football player. But he could already hear the whispers once he arrived with his bastard son and his baby mama in tow. They’d say he’d turned out just as they expected, except, perhaps, wealthier. He suppressed a shudder just thinking about his childhood spent longing for a normal family dynamic of two parents who were married to each other.
Hell, he wondered, does that dynamic even exist anymore?
Long ago, he’d made a promise to himself that any child of his would have that one thing he wanted most of all: legitimacy. Despite his best efforts, he’d failed his son. Not that it was too late. He rubbed a hand over his forehead, trying to scrub that ridiculous thought from his mind as he glanced over at the woman who’d borne him a son. Julianne was babbling on about all the things they’d need for the baby, her previous trepidation suddenly diminished by thoughts of shopping. In that respect, she was just like any other woman. He held a hand up to quiet her. “Just give me a list. I’ll have it taken care of before we get there.”
Her eyes narrowed and she bit her lip to stop herself from complaining. “Fine,” she said. “I assume we’ll work out a long-term agreement when we get there?”
“You already agreed to do whatever I want.” He leaned the chair back on its back legs and tried to remind himself not to flirt with her. She was the enemy. Instead, he forced his best William the Conqueror stare on his face. It worked to intimidate rookies all the time.
A flush spread over her cheeks. “Only with regard to Owen.”
“Since Owen is the only one I care about, we shouldn’t have a problem.” Something flashed in her eyes before she reined it in. It was killing her that he had the upper hand, but she didn’t dare challenge him.
Suddenly her face lit up as she sprang from her chair. “Nicky!” she cried. Will felt his jewels shrivel up at the sound. The last time she’d cried out that name, he’d been buried deep inside her on a hotel room bed.
Six
Julianne breathed in the familiar scent of Nicholas DiMarco as she hugged him tightly. “I knew you’d come,” she whispered against his neck. His hands gently patted her back. Nice hands. Normal hands. Nothing like the oversized mitts Will was always holding up in front of her face.
Nicky gently gripped her shoulders and took a step back. “Of course I
came, Jules. I had to make sure my best girl and her baby were okay. Carly shared the wonderful news that Owen is getting better by the hour. All of our prayers have been answered.”
She looked over Nicky’s shoulder at Carly, who was giving Will another of those empathetic shrugs. The gesture annoyed her. Carly never understood Julianne’s relationship with Nicky. Her best friend couldn’t seem to grasp that Nicky was more than a childhood crush—in spite of any lasting sexual fantasies. Sure, Julianne had spent much of her life dreaming about Nicky as her soul mate, but she was well aware that his devotion lay elsewhere. That’s what made him so safe.
Brushing her hands over his shoulders, Julianne adjusted the clerical collar on his starched black shirt. “Oh, Nicky, it’s so wonderful! My baby is going to be okay!”
Will cleared his throat loudly behind her. Wincing, she grabbed Nicky’s hand and turned to face him. The inscrutable behemoth linebacker from yesterday was back, looking none too happy that she’d referred to Owen as her baby. “Nicky, this is Will Connelly . . . Owen’s father.” The humiliation of the situation seemed to be choking her, and she struggled with the introduction she’d never envisioned making. “Will, this is Nicky. Father Nicholas DiMarco, Vatican Emissary to the Holy See.”
Nicky dropped her hand to reach for Will’s. She held her breath as Will’s hand seemed to swallow the priest’s more gentle one, nearly crushing it in his grip. “We’re all so glad you’re finally in the picture, Will.”
Julianne tried not to cringe. Years of diplomatic training and that was what came out of Nicky’s mouth? She could feel Will’s stare piercing through her, but she didn’t dare look at him. Fear and shame that Will might say something about that night kept her eyes focused on the fountain in the center of the courtyard. Anywhere but on either man’s face. “I would’ve liked to have been part of the picture much sooner, Father, but your best girl seemed to have other ideas.” The tone of his voice indicated that whatever accord they’d reached a few minutes ago might be slipping away, and Julianne felt helpless to stop it. He had every right to be angry and, once again, guilt churned through her stomach.
Nicky laughed. “Ah, yes, our Julianne is passionate in her stubbornness, isn’t she?” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders as he proceeded to regale Will with a story from their childhood, a time when she refused to reveal where she’d hidden something or other, but Julianne wasn’t listening. Apparently Will wasn’t, either, because she still felt his eyes boring into her.
Hitching a quick breath, Julianne scrambled to figure a way out of this awkward encounter. Her world was completely tilted on its axis. Owen was recovering. Carly hadn’t deserted her and now Nicky was here to lend his support. She should be ecstatic that everything had fallen into place. Instead, she felt light-headed and confused. And Will stood three feet from her like a ticking time bomb ready to explode. She just hoped that when he did, she could contain the damage.
“But all’s well that ends well,” Nicky was saying. “It’s her penchant for drama that makes her a fabulous designer, and her passionate nature will make her a devoted mother, so you needn’t worry. She’ll be a fierce advocate for her son’s well-being.”
If Julianne had eaten anything at all today, Nicky would probably be wearing it on his shoes right now.
“I hope you’ve forgiven her for her lies of omission, Will.”
“We’ve come to an understanding.”
She finally chanced a look at Will. His square jaw stuck out slightly and his eyes were like emeralds, hard as stone and glinting at her.
“In fact,” he went on to say, that glare never leaving her face, “you’re just in time. Since you’re such a good friend of the family, I’m sure you’d like to perform our marriage ceremony.”
Ka boom!
Stunned, Julianne tried to force a protest past the lump in her throat, but all that came out was a gasping sound. Carly and Nicky were both speaking, but she couldn’t make out what they were saying as she struggled to breathe. Married? No way had she agreed to that!
Will’s hand was tapping her back as she choked on her angry rebuttal. She gasped again and Will scooped her up in his arms. He carried her over to a bench, where he sat down with her in his lap, his palm still kneading between her shoulders as he calmly told her to breathe.
Breathe? What she really wanted to do was kick him, only she was too busy choking.
Carly knelt before her, a bottle of water in her hand. “Take small sips. Slowly.”
The water helped to unlock the muscles in Julianne’s throat and enabled her to take several gulping breaths. As her breathing returned to normal, she relaxed into the crook of Will’s arm. He continued to rub her back. The instinct to sink into his caress was overwhelming and Julianne began to wonder if he’d cast some spell over her, just like the night at Chase Jordan’s wedding.
Wedding!
She blinked back the tears that had formed in her eyes while she’d been gasping for air and stiffened her spine. Will’s fingers tightened their grip on her back, as if they sensed she’d returned to full mental capacity.
Slowly, she turned her head and shot a death glare over her shoulder at him. “I’m sorry, I thought you said we were getting married?”
The muscles in his face remained impassive, but triumph briefly flared in his eyes. “I did. And we are. As soon as it can be arranged. It comes under the provision of anything I want, according to our little agreement.”
Julianne’s stomach lurched again and she felt her pulse ricocheting at the base of her neck. This man was infuriating! She dug her elbow to his belly only to be met with the definition of Abs of Steel. The pressure on her back became more firm.
Don’t even think about it, his eyes warned her.
“Jules?”
She looked ahead at Carly. Her friend’s face was full of anguish as she glanced between Julianne and Will. “Is this true? You agreed to this?”
“We were just working out the details before you two arrived,” Will lied. Julianne was too angry to find the words to refute him.
“This is wonderful news! Of course I’ll preside over a ceremony. But you understand, we won’t be able to have it in a church.”
Nicky’s words shook her to the core. She was getting married. To someone she didn’t love. Even worse, to someone who didn’t love her. Yet Nicky sounded . . . happy.
“Julianne, sweetie.” Carly’s voice permeated the storm of emotions fogging up her brain. “Is this what you want?”
“It’s what’s happening.” Will’s tone was final.
“Shut up, Will.” Carly had obviously learned a thing or two being married to a football player because her tone was just as lethal as Will’s. She took one of Julianne’s hands in her own. “I’m talking to Jules.”
Frequently throughout these past two days, Julianne thought her friend had been on Will’s side. But when she’d needed her most, Carly was there. With her. She swallowed to keep the tears at bay, relieved to know she could still count on her friend. But Carly’s question weighed heavy in her heart. It didn’t matter what Julianne wanted; her wants had been sacrificed when she’d committed the egregious sin against Will by trying to deny him his son. The guilt of that offense was eating her alive. Julianne owed Will and apparently, he’d found his pound of flesh. If she was going to agree to this—and she still wasn’t sure she could—she’d do so for the sake of her son, another innocent victim in all of her deceit.
That didn’t mean she was giving in to Will without a fight. Her son’s father might be holding all the cards right now, but she had some ground rules she intended to lay down before any wedding—even a fake one to pacify Will’s enormous ego—took place.
She squeezed Carly’s hand. “I’m good. Would you both mind going to check on Owen while we finish”—she wanted to say negotiating, but she didn’t want Carly to worry—“working out the logisti
cs?”
Carly hesitated a minute before standing and releasing her hand. Nicky stood, too, giving Julianne a gentle squeeze on the shoulder. “This is for the best. You’ll see.” Neither his words nor his gesture pacified her. Instead they left her feeling as if he were placating her. Again.
Julianne attempted to jump off Will’s lap, but he held her there. “Wait until they’ve gone inside before you start spitting nails at me,” he breathed into her ear.
As soon as Carly and Nicky entered the hospital, she wrenched herself free of his grasp and scrambled for the chair Nicky had vacated, rushing to get her point across before he could raise a hand to stop her. “First things first, this is a marriage in name only.” She wrapped her arms around her as a cool breeze blew through the courtyard. Her body instantly missed the warm heat of Will’s, and she shivered involuntarily. “There’ll be no touching like that again.”
Will’s mouth tightened into a straight line before he spoke. “True that, Princess. From now on, even the Heimlich maneuver is off-limits. Like I said before, my only interest in this relationship is one with my son.”
His words were a vicious reality check. Julianne tried to get a handle on the roller coaster of emotions she felt about Will. One minute she hated him. The next, her body was shuddering over the loss of contact with his. She needed to keep her wits about her. To set up barriers to ensure she survived any and all close encounters with him.
“I’m not doing your laundry or cooking your food. I’ll take care of Owen and myself. You can spend as much time with him as you want, but I’m not pretending we’re one big happy family.”
She thought she heard him grind his teeth. “I don’t care what happens inside the house, but when we are out in the town, no one knows this is a sham.”
“Oh, come on! They’ll all know it’s a sham when Owen and I pop up out of nowhere.”
Foolish Games (An Out of Bounds Novel) Page 5
