Foolish Games (An Out of Bounds Novel)

by Solheim, Tracy

  Owen laughed, his legs and arms flailing at the sight of his father.

  “Jeez, dude, will you stop doing that?” Brody stepped away from Julianne, his hands poised to defend himself. “Relax. I’m just giving her a picture.”

  “A picture of what?”

  Will saw the moment that realization dawned on Brody’s face. His posture immediately went from defensive to aggressor. Will instantly regretted doubting his teammate. If Brody had wanted to out him, he had the means to do so days ago. He didn’t need Julianne to make it happen. This whole Bountygate situation had him wound up tight as a drum.

  “It’s a picture of his sister, for heaven’s sake.” Julianne waved the photo in front of Will’s face. “I need it to work on . . . something.”

  Will rubbed the back of his neck. He glanced at the picture of Brody’s sister in a bridesmaid gown. Suddenly, the situation all made sense. “You’re designing?” He wasn’t sure why the prospect excited him so much.

  Julianne laid the photo on the desk and began pouring the batter into a loaf pan. “Well, I wouldn’t call it designing yet. More like doodling. And”—she pointed the spatula at Brody—“no telling your sister until I know I can do this.”

  “I already promised not to,” Brody said, his mouth a tight line. “And I keep my promises.”

  “Okay, if you two are going to show off your muscles again, save it for the locker room. All this macho posturing is really nauseating.” She covered the pan with a lid and stuck it in the fridge, presumably to bake it later, before lifting Owen out of his swing. “Speaking of nauseating, someone needs a diaper change.”

  The baby cooed at his mother, grabbing for that lone strand of hair as she carried him upstairs. Will looked over at Brody, who stood grim faced, arms crossed over his chest as he rocked back on his heels.

  “Sorry, man,” Will offered. “This whole thing’s got me jumpy.”

  Brody didn’t answer for a minute, silently rocking on his heels. “Yeah,” he finally said. “Well, then you’re probably not going to like this. Hank Osbourne checked into the inn this morning.”

  He was right; Will didn’t like it. The Blaze front office had been trying to pin him down on his involvement in Bountygate for several weeks now. If what Roscoe said was true and things were heating up, Hank was probably getting anxious about how the scandal would affect the team. If he’d bothered to track Will down in Chances Inlet, the team had to be thinking about its options and where exactly he fit in the future.

  Will swore. He loved playing for the Blaze. And he’d never do anything to jeopardize his position or the respect of his teammates. Head coach Matt Richardson was a former NFL player who understood not only the intricacies of the game but a player’s mind. A rare find, especially since the man had been a quarterback during his playing days.

  Will needed to think. He wandered over to the desk and picked up the picture of Brody’s sister. “When did she tell you she would design the gown?”

  If Brody knew he was stalling, he was wise enough to let it alone.

  “She came into the gym today to tell me. She wanted a picture to help spur her imagination.” Brody sat on one of the bar stools. “I already told Tricia it was a no-go, but if Julianne can come up with something, I’m sure she’ll be ecstatic.”

  “They both will,” Will muttered.

  “Hank invited me to dinner tonight. He’s here with his daughter. Something about her selling some handmade jewelry in town this weekend. Anyway, he wanted me to invite your family to join us. Although I think it might be more summons than invitation.”

  “Not happening.”

  “Dude, think about it; how much can he grill you with his daughter and your wife and kid at the table?”

  “No. Besides, I have the perfect excuse. Owen is too young to be out in public yet. Not after being so sick. You’ll just have to tell him we can’t make dinner.”

  “Tell who we can’t make dinner?” Julianne asked as she appeared in the doorway. She handed a drooling Owen to Will and went to wash her hands.

  “No one.” Will replied.

  “Hank Osbourne, the GM,” Brody said at the same time.

  “Oh, the man whose house we were . . . married at?” Julianne began preparing a bottle for Owen. “I thought I saw him in town this morning.”

  “You what?” Will knew Hank would see that wheedling information out of Julianne was useless. The GM was aware of the circumstances of their marriage, after all. But he didn’t want Hank filling her head with all the rumors surrounding the allegations.

  Julianne stared at him. “He was out walking in town after I left you two at the gym. He didn’t see me, though; he looked like he was on a mission.” She smiled to herself, one of those I’ve-got-a-secret smiles that always made him nervous when he saw one on a woman. “What’s so horrible about going out to dinner with him?”

  “He wants the three of us to go with him and his daughter. Owen could be exposed to too much in a public restaurant. It’s too risky.”

  “You’ve got a point.” She shook up the bottle.

  Will smiled smugly at Brody as if to say, She bought it hook, line, and sinker.

  “So we should invite them here for dinner. You, too, Brody. And Annabeth, of course.”

  It was Brody’s turn to smile at her words. Gotcha, his grin proclaimed.

  “No!”

  “Why not?” Julianne fisted her hands on her hips. “I’m a very good cook. And I love dinner parties.”

  “You don’t cook for other people, remember?” Will arched an eyebrow at her.

  “No,” she reminded him. “I clarified this before, I don’t cook for you. But for tonight, I’m willing to make an exception and let you eat with the grown-ups.”

  Will shoved Owen into Brody’s arms. “Here, keep him busy for a moment.” He grabbed Julianne by the wrist and pulled her into the large pantry, slamming the door behind him.

  “We are not having a dinner party here, Princess.”

  Julianne surveyed the shelves. “Well, not with what you have here. I’ll need to make you a grocery list. We can have caprese tomatoes, chicken marsala, Caesar salad, and maybe a fruit torte for dessert. You’ll have to do the shopping, because I need to give Owen a bath if we’re having company.”

  Will pinched the bridge of his nose. She had to be the most infuriatingly bullheaded woman.

  “Will, it’s part of the charade. I’m the dutiful wife, we’re the happy family. Don’t you see?”

  He stared at her, totally baffled by her thought process. “Hank knows we’re not an actual couple. We don’t have to pretend anything in front of him.”

  Julianne muttered in Italian. “Not for him, for whomever else in this town it was so important you impress. Hank is your boss. He’s visiting. They’d think it would be odd if you didn’t invite him. People have already noticed him in town.”

  Will pressed his hands to his head and squeezed. She was right. Likely everyone was already trying to glad-hand it with Hank. They’d assume the two would show up together somewhere. “Look, Julianne, Hank is not in town to socialize. He’s here because there’s some stuff going on.”

  “Stuff? That’s the best you can come up with using that overloaded brain of yours?”

  His jaw was clenched so hard he could barely get the words out. “Football stuff. Xs and Os. Stuff you wouldn’t be interested in and that doesn’t require a dinner party to discuss. I’ll have lunch with him tomorrow at the marina. That should be a public enough place to satisfy everyone. You included.”

  “Huh.” Julianne pulled her hair down from her messy knot, shaking her head out to free it. “I didn’t get the impression he was in town to discuss football stuff.”

  Will was fixated on the flow of her hair and the shimmy of her breasts as she shook her silky tresses out. It took him a moment to comprehend wha
t she was saying. He crossed his arms in front of his chest. “And you know this, how?”

  “Well”—she rolled the hair band between her fingers—“to tell you the truth, he seemed a lot more interested in your mom. They were having a very . . . intimate-looking conversation in her shop when I saw them.”

  A vein throbbed in his head and Will thought it might detonate any second. “What?” he croaked out.

  “See? A dinner party is a wonderful idea. It will give Hank and your mom an opportunity to see each other. They make a really cute couple.”

  Little specks of red dotted his vision and Will was sure his brain had exploded. His mother and Hank? Jesus, that could be a disaster! And the crazy woman in front of him wanted to throw them together.

  “This isn’t middle school! We aren’t having a party so our friends can make out.” His stomach rolled at the thought.

  She roared right back at him. “We are having the party to reinforce this farce of a marriage you forced me in to, jock brain! Your mom and Hank are just the part that actually makes it worthwhile.”

  Owen wailed in the background. Julianne moved toward the door. She paused briefly before leaving, her head bowed. “It’s lonely here at night, Will. You go to dinner with Gavin and I’m here with Owen,” she whispered.

  He stopped her as she tried to pass. “That was your choice, Princess.”

  “None of this was my choice,” she said as she slipped out the door.

  Will felt her sucker punch all the way to his knees. Damn it! He stormed out of the pantry and grabbed Owen from Brody’s arms, shoving the bottle into the baby’s mouth. “Fine,” he bit out. “You’ve got your damn party.”

  She was gracious enough not to gloat. “I’ll make a list of groceries I’ll need from the store.”

  He pulled the car keys off a rack by the back door and tossed them onto the counter.

  “Oh no, Princess. If you want this party, you’re doing the shopping.” He started up the stairs with Owen.

  “But, Will . . .”

  “The GPS will get you there.” He called down before shutting the door to the nursery.

  Sixteen

  Julianne gnawed on her lip as she stared at the car keys on the counter. Crap! Now what was she supposed to do?

  “Hey.”

  Brody’s voice startled her. She’d almost forgotten he was standing beside her.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  No! “Sure,” she lied. Again. “I’m just trying to come up with a grocery list before I head out.”

  “So how come you look like you’re about to pass out?”

  She brushed a shaky hand over her now-sweaty brow. How would she ever pull this off?

  Brody snatched the keys off the counter. “Come on, I’ll take you there. I’ll teach you how to drive another day.”

  He was out the back door before she could gather her wits. She shoved her feet into her flip-flops and grabbed the diaper bag that doubled as her purse before following him out the door. The car was already running when she slid into the passenger seat.

  “How . . . how did you guess?” she asked as he pulled down the drive.

  “Your face said it all.” Brody glanced over at her just before pulling out onto the main road. “It’s nothing to be ashamed about.”

  She turned to look out the window. “I’m not ashamed. I actually know how to drive. Carly taught me. I just don’t like to do it.”

  “Hey, I don’t need to know your secrets. I’m happy to drive you anywhere you want to go.”

  “It’s not exactly a secret,” she told him. “I was in a bad car accident when I was young. I have been a little intimidated by cars ever since.”

  Brody nodded. “That’s a pretty good reason.” He was silent for a moment. “Anybody die?”

  Julianne rubbed the cross at her neck. “Yes.”

  He cleared his throat. “Well, there’s nothing wrong with not wanting to drive. You shouldn’t stress so much about it.”

  Julianne leaned against the headrest and smiled over at him. “You’re a nice guy, Brody Janik. How come a woman hasn’t already snatched you up?”

  She studied his perfect profile as he drove. His jaw clenched for a moment as his fingers gripped the steering wheel tightly. Just as quickly, his face relaxed into his megawatt smile.

  “I haven’t found a woman who’s as pretty as me,” he joked.

  Julianne concluded he’d rehearsed that particular line a thousand times. There was more to Brody than just his good looks and his athletic prowess. She suspected he was waiting for the woman who could see past his charm and interact with the real Brody. Reaching over, she patted him on the shoulder. “You’ll find her, don’t worry.”

  “Hey!” He shrugged her hand away. “No distracting the driver!”

  An hour later, Julianne was white knuckled as she drove Will’s brand-new SUV along the main street through Chances Inlet. “Who knew there’d be traffic in this little town?” Getting behind the wheel of a car had seemed like a good idea after a latte and Brody’s relaxed encouragement. But now she wasn’t so sure.

  “It’s Memorial Day weekend. This is the beach. I’d say everyone knew that but you,” Brody teased.

  She licked her parched lips as she maneuvered the car past a cyclist. A few blocks later she turned onto the side street that led to the driveway, finally relaxing.

  “You got this?” Brody asked.

  “This is the easy part.” Julianne swerved to avoid nearly clipping a tree as she pulled up onto the parking pad.

  Brody grabbed the dash as she jerked the car into park. “Yeah, well, I think you’re gonna need a few more lessons, Mario, before you go solo, but I’m proud of you for not wimping out. We’ll make a soccer mom out of you yet.”

  Julianne leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks, Brody. You’re a prince among men.”

  The smile he gave her wasn’t his forced cover-boy mug but a genuine grin. “Everything is going to work out, Julianne. You’ll see.”

  Before she got the chance to ask him what he meant, his car door was yanked open and Will was dragging him out by his shirt collar.

  “Will, stop it!” she yelled as she scrambled out of the car and raced to the other side. “What are you doing?” She grabbed onto the back of his shirt and pulled, but it was useless; both men were grappling to get a better hold of one another.

  “Damn it, Connelly! Get your hands off me! I’m getting sick and tired of you going all caveman every time I’m around.” Brody kneed Will in the thigh and slipped out of his grip, causing Julianne to get tangled up in Will’s legs.

  “And I’m getting sick and tired of you constantly having your hands on my wife!” Will charged after him again, but Julianne stepped in between them.

  “I said stop it!” she yelled. Both men ignored her.

  “Dude! If you were a little more sensitive to your wife’s needs, I wouldn’t have to step in so much!”

  Julianne froze at Brody’s words. Did the man have a death wish? And what was he talking about?

  Will’s voice was like a whip cutting through the air. “What’s that’s supposed to mean?”

  “It means she doesn’t know how to drive a car, you idiot!” Brody shrugged at Julianne’s gasp. “My mistake, she does know how to drive. She just doesn’t like to. Sorry, Julianne, but he was bound to find out anyway, and I’m getting a little sick of fighting off his ugly mug in my face when I’ve done nothing wrong. I’m out of here.” He stalked off down the drive.

  They stood in silence a moment and Julianne worked to regain her equilibrium. Will finally turned toward her, his face stony. “Storms, the ocean, and driving. Are there any more phobias you have that you want to share with me, Princess?”

  She swore in Italian before storming around the car, pulling out the bags of groceries, and he
ading into the kitchen. Tears stung her eyes as she tossed the fresh vegetables on the counter. It was bad enough to live life as a quivering mass of phobias and insecurities, but somehow having Will know all her secrets made her feel totally exposed, raw. It was more than she could handle.

  Will carried the remaining groceries in and began unpacking the bags. “It’s a fair question. You’ll be taking care of my son and I need to know what is going to . . . provoke you.”

  Julianne turned from the fridge, tears falling freely down her face now. “Provoke me? Besides you, you mean? Should I just give you a list so you can declare me an unfit mother right now?”

  His silence told her all she needed to know. As far as he was concerned, she was a flake. Too fragile to take a chance on. Every other man in her life felt the same way: old boyfriends, her brother, her father, even Nicky. Why should her fake husband be any different? Worse, this man could use her insecurities against her to take away her son.

  “Well,” she choked out, “I believe that’s a complete catalog of my phobias, Will. I don’t think any of them are hereditary, if that’s what you’re worried about. He’d have to survive a car accident in a raging thunderstorm that tossed the car into the ocean in order to become as emotionally wrecked as I am. Since all of those things terrify me, Owen should be quite safe when he’s in my care.”

  A sob racked her body as she tried to escape the kitchen, but Will was too fast for her.

  “Jesus!” he whispered as he pulled her into his arms.

  Julianne tried to pull away, but he was stronger.

  “Julianne,” he breathed into her hair. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

  His big hand rubbed her back, and her body involuntarily relaxed. There was something about being in Will’s arms that called to her. All these years after the accident and she still craved the gentle hugs only her mother had ever bothered to give her. Julianne’s father blamed her for the death of her mother, sending her off to boarding school weeks after the accident. Stephen, twelve years older, was a stranger and provided little comfort. Nicky had been the only constant in her life. But his was an emotional comfort, not physical. Until Will, she hadn’t known how big that hole was in her life.