Twenty-four
Will Connelly was in love with his wife. He wasn’t sure when or how it happened, but somehow he’d fallen head over heels in love with Julianne. Flighty, messy, neurotic, sexy Julianne. Maybe he’d fallen for her that first night on Sea Island, where the connection between them had sparked to life. Or perhaps it was watching her fight for their son, sacrificing so much so he would live a happy life.
However it had happened, Will was glad she’d weaseled her way into his heart. He sat on the bench in the locker room of the Ship’s Iron Gym studying the wedding band on his left hand in wonder. It actually looked good on him.
“Damn, Will. You could warn a guy first before you blind him with that,” Gavin teased.
Will knew his friend was happy for him, but there was an edge in Gavin’s voice, too. His own fiancée had called off their wedding last summer, just days before the ceremony. While Gavin played down her desertion, Will sensed it still stung.
“Sorry.” Will didn’t need to say any more. They’d been friends long enough that Gavin knew he meant it in a variety of ways.
Gavin shrugged it off. “I’m just a little miffed I didn’t get to toast the bride and groom at their wedding. You married so quickly, we never got a chance to celebrate.”
Will paused in packing his workout clothes in his bag. He and Julianne had married quickly, but it wasn’t supposed to be a marriage based on love, so he hadn’t cared. Now, though, their marriage meant something more. Something to be celebrated. He pictured Julianne in one of her sexy wedding gowns. Every woman wanted a wedding, didn’t they? Perhaps he should suggest they have a more traditional ceremony and reception. One with music and flowers and cake. All the things he’d denied her the first go-around.
He glanced at the gold band again. Will hadn’t been able to bring himself to say the words back to her the other night. Instead, he’d gone out and bought a wedding ring. Hopefully, by wearing it, she’d know he loved her.
“Maybe we’ll have another ceremony. With a reception this time.” The more Will thought about it, the more he liked the idea. They could start over, actually meaning the vows they spoke to one another.
“Ah, now you’re just trolling for wedding gifts, Will. I’m not buying you any china.”
“Funny.” Will zipped his gym bag closed. “We bought china for a wedding gift for Chase last year.”
“Yeah, that’s because we listened to Amanda, who was filling my place with crystal and place settings for sixteen. Seriously, who needs sixteen sets of dishes? If I’m having that many people over for dinner, I’m ordering pizza.” Gavin slammed his locker shut. “I still say we should have gone with our guts and gotten that vintage pinball machine. Chase would have loved it.”
“It was an awesome game,” Will agreed. At the same time, he could picture Julianne easily entertaining sixteen for dinner with a meal she’d prepared. And it wouldn’t be pizza. His kitchen would end up looking like a war zone, but it would be worth it.
“Jeez, Will, are you gonna wear that shit-eating grin on your face all day?”
Unaware that he was smiling, Will glanced at his friend. “Sorry, I was just thinking about—”
“Whoa!” Gavin held his hands up. “TMI. I really don’t need the details, bro.”
They stood in awkward silence for a moment.
“I’m really happy for you, man.” Gavin finally said. “Everything worked out, and I’m glad. You deserve it.”
Will rubbed the back of his neck. “I wish things had worked out for you and Amanda.”
“They did work out, just not the way everyone thought they would. But she’s happy and that’s all that matters.”
Will eyed his friend, wondering if he would be so magnanimous if Julianne suddenly changed her mind about him. Probably not. He stepped toward to Gavin.
“Connelly, if you’re gonna hug me in the men’s locker room,” Gavin protested, “I’m gonna have to take you down. Which, by the way, I can still do. Come on, you can buy me lunch instead.”
“Fine,” Will laughed. It had been many years since Gavin had bested him, but he’d let that ride for now.
“And a cigar,” Gavin said as they headed out the door. “I never got a cigar when your son was born.”
Another thing Will would have to remedy. He needed to organize a wedding and a proper celebration of Owen’s birth. They headed to Pier Pressure while he contemplated both.
• • •
An hour later, Will walked back to his house. He was eager to see Julianne and get her reaction to the ring he wore. Hell, he was looking forward to the things she’d do to him in appreciation, and him to her. His body hardened in anticipation and he widened his stride.
Damn! As he turned onto the sandy drive, he remembered that his wife had disappeared with his mother and Patricia earlier, a happy Owen in tow. They were going shopping, they’d said, all three of them looking like the cat that had eaten the canary. Will was glad his mother and Julianne were getting along. His own relationship with his mother was often fragile. He loved her, that was irrefutable, but he didn’t understand her choices. Her life could be so much more, yet she was content to remain here in Chances Inlet. Perhaps now she’d venture out more, if nothing else but to visit her grandson during the season.
Rounding the curve, he spotted an unfamiliar car in the driveway. Curious, he picked up his pace but nearly stopped in his tracks when he noticed his agent, Roscoe, sitting on the verandah. Will’s breathing ratcheted up a couple of notches. The two hadn’t spoken in two days, when Roscoe had assured him there wasn’t enough evidence for the Senate committee to subpoena him. With luck, Bountygate would fade away. The fact that his agent hadn’t called but instead was here in person didn’t bode well.
Roscoe looked haggard where he sat in the shade, an empty water bottle in his hands. Will climbed the stairs, his own body now tense.
“Your phone broken?” he asked Roscoe.
“Nope.” Roscoe stood, his suit rumpled from the heat. “This conversation needed to take place in person.”
Will muttered a few choice words under his breath as he entered the key code unlocking the kitchen door. Roscoe followed him in and Will headed directly for the refrigerator and pulled out a bottled water. He handed it to Roscoe, who shook his head.
“Got anything stronger?”
Will’s whole body went on alert. He handed Roscoe a beer while taking a swig of the water for himself.
Roscoe took a long swallow. “Where’s your family?” he asked.
“Out.”
Roscoe nodded before taking another pull on the beer bottle.
Will couldn’t take it anymore. “Do you want to tell me what this is all about, or are you waiting for me to get out the chips and salsa?”
Sliding onto a stool at the island, Roscoe ran a hand through his hair. “According to my sources, you’re going to get served. They’d prefer you be in Baltimore to do it, but they’ll come here if you force it.”
Will gripped the countertop, trying to neutralize his shock. “You told me it was all over.”
“That’s what I was told. But last night, the Senate committee got some new information. They think it’s enough to subpoena you.”
“I don’t understand.” Will’s hands were shaking. They couldn’t force him to testify.
“Neither do I. Zevalos certainly didn’t give you up. Neither would anyone else involved. Especially since it would only implicate them. The only other people who know about this are you and I. And I certainly didn’t say anything.”
A roaring sound commenced in Will’s head. His fingers were tingling where they gripped the countertop and his breath was sawing through his chest.
“Jesus, Will.”
He could hear the panic in Roscoe’s voice, but his eyes wouldn’t focus any longer.
“Tell me you didn’t tell anyone else. Tell me you didn’t tell her!” Roscoe demanded.
Will didn’t need his agent to clarify who he meant by her. The only person he had told was Julianne. But she wouldn’t tell her brother. Not that. She’d said she loved Will. Certainly, she wouldn’t betray him.
Roscoe’s voice sounded like it was coming through a tunnel now. “Damn it, Will! I told you not to trust her. Her brother is on the freaking Senate committee, for crying out loud!”
Will tried to swallow around the lump in his throat. Could she have broken his trust? He refused to believe she had. Unclenching his fingers from the countertop, he staggered over to the small desk she’d been using. Yesterday, she’d been awfully secretive about what she was working on. He pulled a folder from the desk, stunned by the doodling he saw on the outside. Her brother’s name was there, with a pair of devil horns along with a star surrounding the notation of seventy-five thousand dollars. The folder dropped from his hand as if it burned him. Sketches of babies rained down on the kitchen floor.
Roscoe crouched down to sort through the papers. “It looks like she’s starting another company.” He whistled through his teeth. “And guess who’s providing the financing?”
The question was rhetorical because Will already knew the answer.
“She sold you out to her brother to get herself back in the design world. Looks like she plans to use Owen, too.”
“No!” Will roared, slamming his hand against the stainless steel fridge.
“How much more evidence do you need, Will? Jesus! She tried to steal your son from you. The woman must be a sexual sorceress in the bedroom if you can overlook all that.”
Will lunged at him, but Roscoe was adept at avoiding his clients’ punches after all these years.
“Settle down!” Roscoe yelled at him. “I’ve only let one of my clients actually deck me and only because I owed it to him.” Roscoe pulled a kitchen chair between them. “You pay me to watch out for you and to tell it like it is, but you don’t get to shoot the messenger.”
Will felt a great weight settle in his chest as he slumped into the desk chair. He wanted to wail. Had her love been a lie, too? His gut rolled just thinking it. All of his life, he’d been the kid looking in the window from the outside. Watching his friends love and be loved. His mother loved him, but she’d been too busy making sure they both survived to notice those painful moments when all the other boys played catch with their fathers or went on father-son campouts together. Or the dads who wouldn’t let their daughters date him because of where he lived or his parentage. The kids in school who’d cozied up to him to get help with their homework but made fun of his Goodwill clothing behind his back. Even in college, he’d stood apart from the rest, the poor scholarship kid whose mother could barely afford even a bus ticket for him to go home for the holidays while they were jetting off to tropical destinations.
But finally, he’d thought he’d found true happiness with Julianne. She and Owen would be his family. They would belong to him and he would belong to them. Could it all have been just a lie?
“Will.” Roscoe’s voice permeated the fog. “We need to get back to Baltimore. Ron can fly us back as soon as we can get over to the airport.”
“Not until Julianne and Owen get back.”
Roscoe sighed. “Okay, yeah. You need to say good-bye to your son. We can go over custody scenarios on the flight back.”
Will didn’t want to think about how this was going to impact his son. He just knew he needed to speak with Julianne. To ask her directly if she’d done what Roscoe thought or if it was just a big misunderstanding.
“Maybe you could throw some things in a bag while we wait,” Roscoe prodded him.
“Yeah.” Will slowly stood. “They can’t compel me to testify, can they?”
Roscoe didn’t respond immediately. “No. But the league has made it clear you’ll be suspended if you don’t.”
Will’s legs felt like wood as he climbed the stairs to his bedroom.
• • •
Julianne sang along to the U2 song on the satellite radio. It had been a beautiful day. They’d found two potential mill sites, both well within the price range Sebastian had specified. Patricia had been a pit bull, hammering the owners with construction questions Julianne wouldn’t have thought of. Annabeth had been a bit subdued all day, but she’d kept Owen occupied and happy. She’d left the two of them at the inn with Patricia while she’d come home to find Will. Although she’d only been gone for the day, she missed him.
The purpose of their fake marriage was so Will could bond with his son. But the real bonding had been between Will and Julianne. The potent attraction that had pulled them together on Sea Island was now a fierce connection. She’d told him she loved him the other night, and he hadn’t run screaming into the ocean, which she took as a positive sign. They still hadn’t talked about their future, however. It was as if neither one of them wanted to broach the subject, choosing to live in the moment instead, enjoying what they could of each other. Julianne hoped they could sustain whatever it was between them, because she now knew she couldn’t live without Will.
She cautiously steered the SUV up the drive when she noticed another car parked near the house. There was a rental car sticker on the bumper, but nothing else to identify its owner. Pulling her car beside it, Julianne turned off the ignition and hopped out, quickly striding up the steps.
“Will!” she called as she entered the kitchen. His large form sitting stonily at the kitchen table startled her.
“Hi,” she said warily as she placed her purse on the counter. She took a couple of steps toward him, but something stopped her. He was back to being formidable and unflappable in his business suit and tie. His face was the same stoic one that had greeted her in the hospital over a month before.
“Where’s the baby?” he asked. Something about his tone made her stomach drop.
“Umm . . . he’s with your mom. She’s going to walk him back in the stroller. The ladies in the yarn shop like to pinch his cheeks.” She sashayed her hips a little and smiled at him, but he didn’t see the joy in little old ladies cooing over their son. Her smile vanished as unease began to grip her.
“Will, what is it? What’s wrong?” Her voice shook slightly.
A movement out of the corner of her eye captured her attention. Will’s agent emerged from the shadows.
Julianne’s gaze darted from one man to the other. “Hello.”
Roscoe acknowledged her with the briefest of nods before turning to Will. “I’ll wait outside.”
Her palms were sweating now. “Will?” she pleaded.
He stood from his chair and closed the gap between them. She wanted to reach up and wrap her arms around him, but there seemed to be an invisible force field in place keeping them apart.
“I have to go to Baltimore tonight.”
Julianne shook her head in confusion. “I thought we were together this weekend. Is something wrong?”
His eyes were full of anguished fury. “I’m going to be subpoenaed to testify.”
Her hand shot to her mouth. “No!” she cried. “You said”—she pointed toward the door where Roscoe had slipped out—“he said it was finished. You wouldn’t have to testify. Everything was going to blow over.”
Her heart ached for him. This had to be devastating for Will. She reached a hand to his face, but he recoiled slightly. Julianne’s chest constricted and the breath caught in her throat as her hand hung there in the air. Unshed tears burned behind her eyelids.
“It’s not over. I’m being yanked in front of a Senate committee investigating racketeering charges.” His words were like hard blows to her stomach.
“Se—Senate committee?” Black dots swam before her eyes. This was the point where Will had always stepped in, his big hands holding her, comforting her. But he made no move to help her now, and her heart nearly shattered. With weak knees, she backed up against one of the bar stools and leaned against it.
“Yes, Princess. You’ve heard of those, haven’t you? I’m sure you must have, since your brother is on the committee that subpoenaed me.” His voice was cold and her body shivered involuntarily. “I have to know, Julianne. Why did you do it?”
Oh, God! What had she done? She’d ruined everything. “I didn’t,” she cried. Except she had. A gasping sob escaped and she placed both hands over her mouth.
“All this time, you’ve been here collecting information for your brother. Was it fun, talking to him every day sharing my secrets, Princess?” The look on his face was savage now.
“It wasn’t like that! I didn’t mean it, Will! I didn’t!”
“Save it.” Will’s words cracked like a whip. Then he slammed her file folder down on the counter. “How much did he pay you? Was that what this was all about, Princess? Money?”
She shook her head, the words lost in the sobs. Everything was a tangled mess and she couldn’t find the right words to fix it.
“You used me to get money so you can go back to your glamorous life as a designer.”
“It isn’t like that,” she insisted. “I was going to tell you about the new company next week. It’s not what you think.” She was pleading now. “Will, I would never betray you. I love you. Please, believe me.”
He grabbed both her arms and pulled her in closer. She nearly sobbed in relief as his body drew near, her own body arching toward his. But he didn’t gather her in or kiss her. Instead, his fingers tightened around her flesh.
“Why should I believe you,” he snarled, “when all you’ve ever done is try to deceive me. And don’t you dare mock me by saying you love me.” He shook her. “Not ever again, Princess, because I’m not buying it.”
“William Anthony Connelly!” Annabeth shouted over Julianne’s choking sobs and Owen’s wails. “What is going on here?”
Mercifully, his fingers loosened on her arms, and that was when she saw it: the wedding band on Will’s left hand. A ferocious sob escaped her now-shaking body. Will’s eyes followed hers to the ring. He tore his hands away and stripped the band off his finger, waving it in front of her face.
“I’m all done with your foolish games.” He stormed out the door toward the pier.
“No!” Julianne cried, running out onto the verandah behind him. “Please, Will!”
But her cry was whipped away by the rising wind. It was too late; his long strides had already carried him to the dunes. She wept along with her son as Will tossed the ring into the high tide. Julianne’s knees buckled at the sight and her body landed in a heap on the wood decking.
She wasn’t sure how she got to her room. Several hours had passed since the confrontation with Will, and darkness had settled like a shroud over the house. Switching on the bedside lamp, Julianne had vague recollections of Will stepping around her crumpled form earlier and kissing a tearful Owen on the head. He’d told their son he’d be back in a few days, but he hadn’t bothered speaking to her. Then he drove off in the rental car with his agent.
Julianne’s eyes were heavy and they burned. Her legs wobbled as she made her way to the nursery. Owen was sleeping fitfully in his crib. As she gently rubbed a hand over his back, he instantly calmed to a deeper sleep. The wind whipped beyond the windows and the ocean roared. How foolish she’d been, always worried the sea would sweep away the ones she loved. The ocean hadn’t taken Will away; Julianne had accomplished that with one misspoken sentence. And the pain was like a knife wound to her belly.
Voices rose from the kitchen. It sounded like Annabeth and Patricia below. Julianne crept toward the stairs.
“I don’t know what happened, Patricia. I’ve seen him look at her like that before, but those other times, he had pure lust in his eyes. Today . . . today it looked like he actually hated her.” It sounded as if Annabeth choked out the last words.
Julianne swallowed around the lump in her throat. Will did hate her. And she couldn’t blame him. He’d trusted her with his secret when he hadn’t trusted anyone before. And look what she’d done with his trust. She silently trod down the stairs.
“Oh, come on Annabeth, it can’t be all that bad.” Patricia handed her friend a cup of tea.
“I’m afraid it is that bad,” Julianne said softly from the doorway.
Annabeth sprang from her seat at the table. “Julianne, will you please tell me what’s going on?”
“I wish I could, but I’ve already unintentionally divulged one of Will’s secrets. You’re going to have to go to him for this one.”
“For heaven’s sake! You’re just as cryptic as he is. Will isn’t talking. He won’t answer his cell or return my texts. One of you needs to tell me what’s happened.”
“Umm, I don’t think we need either of them to explain it to us anymore.” Patricia pointed to the television screen in the great room. She grabbed the remote to turn up the volume as the ten o’clock news began and an image of Will disembarking from a small plane filled the screen.
“Baltimore Blaze All-Pro linebacker Will Connelly is the first NFL player to be served with a subpoena to appear before the Senate committee investigating racketeering in the National Football League, stemming from allegations surrounding Bountygate.”
The three women watched in silence as a man handed Will an envelope, a disgusted Roscoe looking on.
“According to sources within the senate, Connelly has information that can substantiate the rumors of an alleged bounty scheme. Connelly’s testimony could make or break several lawsuits filed by players claiming to have been injured as a result of the scheme.”
Annabeth gasped.
“Sources close to Connelly say he will invoke his Fifth Amendment rights, a move that will ensure him an indefinite suspension from football, according to the league office. The hearing is scheduled for next week. No word yet from the Blaze as to whether Connelly will participate in the team’s mandatory mini-camp also scheduled for next week.”
The tears were running again down Julianne’s cheeks, their salt stinging her raw skin.
Annabeth whirled on her. “Dear God, Julianne, what did you do? When you said you sold your soul to your brother yesterday, did that include selling my son’s as well?”
Julianne had gone numb hours ago, so Annabeth’s words didn’t inflict the pain they might have. Wrapping her arms around her midsection, she stood there and let Will’s mother attack her, happy that he had someone in his corner.
“This is all a bunch of lies! How could you tell your brother lies about Will?” Annabeth demanded.
“I have to agree, Julianne,” Patricia chimed in. “Will and the Blaze are known throughout the league for their integrity and fair play. What would even make you think such a thing about Will?”
Julianne locked eyes with Annabeth. “He wasn’t with the Blaze when it happened.”
It only took a few seconds for the realization to dawn on Annabeth. With a sharply drawn breath, she plopped down on the sofa. “Oh no.” Patricia sat down beside her, taking her hand.
Julianne knelt on the floor at Annabeth’s feet, telling Will’s mother and Patricia the tale of his unintentional involvement in Bountygate. Resting her head on her mother-in-law’s lap, she tearfully recounted her phone conversation with Stephen.
“I didn’t do it on purpose. I was defending Will. I never would have said anything had I known what my brother would do with it. Stephen used me,” she cried bitterly.
“Hush, Julianne,” Annabeth soothed, gently stroking Julianne’s hair. “None of this is your fault.” She gave Julianne a sad smile. “I’m sorry that I even doubted you. You’re an impulsive woman, but only because you want to protect the people you care about. Your brother is the guilty one here.”
Julianne gave a heaving sigh of relief just as the thunder rumbled overhead. She was impulsive—and gullible—but it was comforting to know her mother-in-law understood. Too bad Will hadn’t trusted her enough to stick around and allow Julianne to defend herself. It seemed to Julianne that her husband was just as impulsive. Annabeth patted the couch beside her. Julianne climbed off the floor into her mother-in-law’s arms.
“Well, this is quite a mess,” Annabeth said as she wrapped a blanket around a now-shivering Julianne. As lightning crackled outside, Julianne snuggled against her. For once, she was too preoccupied to muster the strength to be frightened of the weather. Will would be so proud of her. If only he didn’t hate her.