Thirteen
“Jesus! You made her cry. I ought to knock your teeth down your throat!” Will had never wanted to hit another man as badly as he wanted to flatten Brody at that moment.
His teammate took a lifesaving step back. “Well, you were the one yelling. The poor woman probably has postpartum depression or something, and here you are bullying her not to design a stupid wedding gown.”
Will counted to ten. It was a skill that had served him well all his life. “Why are you really here? It isn’t about some wedding gown. Spit it out, Brody.”
“My sister actually does want a dress.” Brody put his hands up as Will advanced on him. “But I’ll tell her it’s a no-go. I really came down to give you some stuff that’s been left for you at the training facility. You’ve had several anonymous packages dropped off since you left. Hank thought you might want to see them right away.”
Will rubbed the back of his neck. “So some woman’s mailing me her panties again. Just throw them in the trash.”
Brody shuffled his feet. “They’re not from a fan. Unless someone in the NFL is sending you panties. The packages have come from the players’ union.”
That got Will’s attention. Whoever was sending him packages anonymously was somehow involved in the NFL. Which could only mean one thing.
“Have you opened them?” Will tried to keep his tone cool.
Brody crossed his arms defiantly. “Seriously, dude? I’m your friend. I brought the packages to you because I didn’t want them lying around for someone else to find. There’s a lot of shit going around right now, and you’re definitely six degrees of Kevin Bacon away from it. We’re still a team, and I know you play with integrity every game. Whatever happened in the past is best kept in the past. Unfortunately, not everyone sees it that way.”
Will blew out a breath. Brody was right; people wouldn’t be happy until someone was the scapegoat. His loyalties lay with the Blaze, but his former coach had given him so much. He was walking a tightrope and his balance was getting more precarious. Whatever was in those packages needed to be addressed. But first, he needed to make sure Julianne was all right.
“I’ll meet you back at the inn after I’ve showered.” Will turned up the stairs before Brody’s voice stopped him.
“Tell her I’m sorry,” Brody called after him. “I didn’t mean to upset her.”
“Get going,” Will said, climbing the rest of the stairs.
The door to the nursery was closed. He knocked softly before walking in. Julianne stood in the center of the room, the morning sunlight streaming in the windows. Her hair was pulled into a side braid hanging over the shoulder of her pink cardigan. Capri jeans and pink ballet slippers completed her outfit, somehow making her look more vulnerable. Owen sat in the bouncy seat, intently watching the shadows of the oak tree branches dance on the wall.
Will closed the door behind him, leaning up against it. “Sorry about that. He said he was going deep-sea fishing this morning, so I thought I had time to prepare you.”
She sank down to the floor in front of Owen and played with his bare toes. “It’s okay. I’m sorry that I couldn’t help him.”
“Brody’s lived a charmed life. He’s spoiled and not used to being told no. He’ll get over it. Don’t feel like you had to do this because he’s a teammate.”
“But I want to do it for him. For his sister,” she whispered.
This was why Will hated getting involved with women. He never understood what they were saying. Hadn’t she said she didn’t want to design Brody’s sister’s dress not two minutes ago? He crouched down on his haunches in front of her.
“Help me out here. You said downstairs that you wouldn’t make the gown.”
Julianne sprang to her feet, nearly knocking him over in the process. “No! I said I couldn’t make the gown.”
He counted to ten before realizing he wasn’t any further along understanding the minds of women. Maybe Brody was right and she did have postpartum depression. His teammate had older sisters, after all, so he might recognize the signs. Julianne had her back to him, sorting Owen’s socks into a pile. Will gently turned her to face him.
“I’m not following here, Princess. Can you maybe explain it to me?”
She bit her lip and looked wistfully out the window. “I haven’t been able to design since I got pregnant.”
He was even more confused now. What did one thing have to do with the other?
“Why not?”
Definitely not the brightest question. She turned to him, her eyes all squinty and peevish now. “Well, Dr. Phil, if I knew the answer to that, don’t you think I’d fix it?”
Maybe it was hormones? He didn’t know he’d asked the question aloud until she pushed away from him.
“Ohmigosh, that’s all your super-sized brain can come up with? Maybe it’s hormones?”
Will put his hands up. “Okay, it’s probably not hormones, but I’m sure it’s only temporary. A gift like that just doesn’t disappear when you have a baby. It’ll come back. You’ll see.”
Julianne had that vulnerable look about her again, and Will had to stop himself from gathering her in his arms. That move always got them in trouble.
“It’s been nearly a year.” Julianne’s voice was soft and sad. “What if it doesn’t?”
“It will,” he reassured her. “In the meantime, you have other designers on your staff who can carry your company along, right?”
She slowly shook her head. “No, I am . . . was . . . the only designer at JV Designs.”
The word was hung ominously in the air. Julianne wouldn’t look at him, so he bent his head in front of her face. “Was?”
Julianne blinked slowly before nodding. “I sold my company.”
“Why?” he asked, although he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer.
“To pay Owen’s medical bills,” she whispered.
“Ahhh, for the love of . . .” Will couldn’t finish the sentence, he was so angry. He’d wondered why there wasn’t a bill when Owen was discharged from the hospital, but he figured it went through insurance first. Did she not have medical insurance? Somehow, he wasn’t surprised.
“And before you start accusing me of being bat crazy again, I had to do it. It wouldn’t have been fair making you pay for Owen when you didn’t want him in the first place.”
“It’s bat-shit crazy, and I don’t think even the bats are as crazy as you!” He backed her against the wall. “I told you I was going to pay for half of Owen’s care. But do you listen? No! This is why smart people like me plan ahead instead of that whole seat-of-the-pants thing you’ve got going. I was right that first day, you need a keeper. Obviously the senator and your business manager can’t keep you under control. I guess it’s up to me.”
Julianne’s eyes were slits again. “As if you can!”
Her challenge hung in the air for a moment before he descended on her. “Stop telling me I don’t want my son.” He wanted to strangle her, but only a psychopath would do that to his child’s mother with their kid in the room. So he opted for kissing her instead. And it was an incredible kiss. Like a man who’d gone without food or water for days, he devoured her.
Best of all, she was kissing him back. With a sigh, her lips parted right away, giving him access to her soft mouth. Their tongues played as her hands slipped under his T-shirt and her nails stroked down his back. Will groaned as his fingers kneaded her hips, pulling them closer to meet with his hard body. His mouth left hers to explore her jaw, raining kisses there before visiting the sweet spot on her neck.
“I swear, you’ve cast a spell on me,” he whispered in her ear before finding her lips once again.
His tongue explored her sweet, hot mouth in a soul-searching kiss. The sensation of tasting her again blazed into something raw and needy inside him. Small sounds of pleasure bubbled from her throat as she kissed him with a matching urgent need. Will stepped between her thighs, backing her toward the wall, one hand grazing a breast as the other cupped her bottom. He felt her gasp as her body became aware of his arousal.
“Will,” she breathed. “Please!”
Unfortunately it wasn’t the please he was looking for, because she was pushing him away.
“I . . . we can’t do this.”
His lips cruised her neck and he felt her tremble. “Why not? We are married.”
“Except this isn’t a real marriage.” Her voice was starting to sound a little clearer and a lot more in control. Not a good sign. “I’m not good at casual sex.”
He stepped back, not releasing her totally, and lifted an eyebrow at her. She leaned her head back against the wall, her neck pink where the stubble from his beard had marked her. Will stifled a groan, knowing he might have already lost this set of downs.
“That night doesn’t count. I was doped on medicine and I don’t remember it.”
“So you keep saying.”
She traced a finger over his biceps. “This is only temporary. It’s complicated enough with Owen, but this . . . this would only make it messier. I’m not good with messy.”
“Bull! You’re very good at messy. My house looks like a hurricane breezed through it since you’ve lived here.” As compliments go, it wasn’t Will’s best effort.
She was squinty eyed again. Will swore as he dropped his hands. He wasn’t sure what possessed him to say what he said next.
“Saving yourself for the priest, I see.”
Her hand made contact with his face and Will didn’t try to stop her. He’d deserved it. She deserved an apology. Instead he turned on his heel and left the room for a much-needed shower. A cold shower.