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Foolish Games (An Out of Bounds Novel) by Solheim, Tracy (9)

Nine

The small jet landed smoothly on the runway nestled between the berm and sand. Will had wasted no time getting them to North Carolina once Dr. Ling had discharged Owen that morning, swiftly whisking them off to Reagan National Airport, where a private plane waited. He’d arrived at the hospital with a state-of-the-art infant carrier, insisting their son be properly strapped in his seat the entire time they were in the air. Julianne was relieved that Owen slept peacefully during the forty-minute flight because, had he been fussy, there was no way she was leaving him in that car seat. Her arrogant, domineering husband could bluster all he wanted.

It had been two days since their marriage and that encounter in the powder room. She’d managed to keep her interactions with Will brief and always in front of witnesses. Once on the plane, however, he was difficult to avoid. He took up most of the cabin, lounging in one of the wide chairs across from Julianne and Owen. It was the first time she’d seen him dressed casually, wearing jeans, sneakers, and a tan golf shirt that brought out the green in his eyes. Not that she saw much of them since he’d spent the trip perusing his iPad while Julianne feigned sleep.

“I made an appointment with a pediatrician in Wilmington next week for Owen’s well-baby visit,” he announced, apparently fully aware she wasn’t sleeping. “I interviewed him yesterday. He comes highly recommended.”

Julianne cracked an eyelid open. Will was watching her, waiting for a reaction, that cool defiant look on his face. His presumptiveness was really starting to rub her raw. Dr. Ling had already referred her to a pediatrician located in Chances Inlet, a former medical professor of hers at Duke, now in private practice in the small town. Julianne had the woman’s name tucked in her purse.

“I’ve already taken care of it,” she said, closing her eyes again. Not exactly true, but she planned on taking care of it once they landed.

She heard Will snap the case of his tablet closed. “Really? Because you weren’t even taking notes when Dr. Ling was discharging him. Do you even have a vague idea of the number of checkups and inoculations Owen needs in the next several months? Or do you plan to parent the same way you live your life, by the seat of your pants?”

Julianne was thankful her seat belt was still securely snapped around her waist; otherwise, she might have flown out of the chair and throttled him. Her eyes were wide open now, and she could only imagine what he saw reflected in them. Not that he registered any reaction. His opinion of her stung, however. She wasn’t the flaky artist her brother constantly made her out to be. But she didn’t live her life encumbered by rigid rules prescribed by society, either.

“I didn’t need to take notes, because you, Mr. Ivy-League-brownnoser, were doing such a great job at it. And yes, I know exactly the protocol for well-baby visits. I had several months of pregnancy to memorize it.” She reached down to pull on a sock Owen had kicked off in his sleep. “Our deal was that I’d be the dutiful wife in public, but you aren’t dictating how I mother my son.”

Will’s jaw clenched at her slip, but Julianne reminded herself she was trying to get along. She flailed a hand in the air before he could correct her with some acerbic rebuttal.

“Pardon me. When our son”—she was gratified she didn’t choke on the word—“has an ear infection or a fever, I’m not hauling him off to a doctor forty minutes away when I can push him in a stroller to a well-qualified, well-liked physician two blocks down the street.”

Will hesitated, concern briefly flickering in his eyes, before opening his iPad once again. “I have an article on homeopathic remedies for ear infections.”

She slumped back against the seat. Undoubtedly he had entire research manuals on childcare loaded onto his tablet. He was apparently trying to debunk the dumb-jock myth single-handedly.

“You aren’t going to be able to develop a game plan for your son. He’s a living, breathing entity and things are going to happen, as we’ve already discovered. We’re going through with this ruse so you can bond with Owen. If you’re stressed about every little thing, he’ll sense it.”

His only reaction was a brief tightening of his fingers on his iPad. “I’m organized and efficient. Having a plan leads to less stress.”

Julianne rolled her eyes. “Right! You’re wound so tightly . . .”

Will tossed his iPad onto the chair beside him. Julianne’s breath caught in her throat as he stretched forward in his seat, his mouth hard. She should have known better than to bait him, but she was tired of his domineering manner and, well, she was just plain tired. And alone. And, truth be told, a little bit scared. In theory, marrying Will and returning to the small town where he grew up sounded doable. But now that she was actually living it, without the protective cocoon of her friends—Sebastian, Carly, and even Nicky—she wasn’t sure how she was going to pull it off. The ever-present sexual tension simmering between her and Will certainly didn’t help.

“If I’m stressed, Princess, it’s because I find myself having to totally restructure my off-season with a kid I didn’t know I had and a wife I don’t want.”

The force of his words sent her pressing further against the seat back. Of course he didn’t want her as his wife. It hurt to know that here was another man who didn’t envision her as a permanent part of his life. She turned her gaze to the window so as not to let him see how he could wound her. He already had enough power over her.

The pilot’s voice came over the intercom, shattering their stony silence.

“Hey, Will, we’re five minutes from wheels down, so make sure everything is secure back there, will ya?”

Will was quiet for a moment before switching on the intercom and answering. “Thanks, Ron.”

The ocean stretched out beneath the wing of the plane, and Julianne’s stomach did a flip-flop. She knew Chances Inlet was a small town located at the junction of the Cape Fear River and the Atlantic Ocean, but she hoped Will’s house was at least a few blocks inland. She didn’t do well near the sea, not since it had taken her mother from her.

“He’s still strapped in?” Will asked.

She forced herself not to roll her eyes again as she peeked over at Owen, still sleeping peacefully, a bubble of spit dancing on his pursed lips. Her heart melted as she looked at her beautiful son. Gratitude for Will’s contribution to Owen’s creation and saving his life dulled a little of the animosity she currently felt for him. She pulled the blanket up over the blue onesie decorated with Clifford the Big Red Dog, and suddenly a vision of a lace christening gown danced before her eyes. She blinked, but the gown remained fixed on her brain. Relief flickered through her limbs. Perhaps her gift wasn’t gone, after all. It was the first time in months she’d conjured up a design, and her fingers itched to sketch it. But just then, the plane’s wheels hit the runway with a bump and Owen woke up howling.

Will took care of unloading their luggage while Julianne fed and changed the baby. When she emerged on the tarmac twenty minutes later, it was to find Will leaning against a gleaming SUV, chatting up a leggy blonde dressed in jean shorts and a white tank top. She was perched barefoot on the hood like a life-sized hood ornament. The girl—she couldn’t have been more than twenty—looked like she was posing for a new-car ad, the wind blowing back her hair as her perfect pink mouth smiled seductively at Will.

“Oooh!” she squealed as she slid off the car and made a beeline toward Owen. “Is this your baby?”

Julianne just barely resisted the urge to pull the carrier holding her son up to shoulder height just to watch the girl fall flat on her face.

“He’s sooo cute,” she cooed as she looked up at Julianne. “Hi! I’m Brandi. With an i.”

“Of course you are,” Julianne couldn’t resist saying. Brandi-with-an-i probably dotted her i with a heart. Julianne hated the stab of self-doubt that coursed through her stomach. She’d taken care with how she’d dressed today, but next to the athletic, tan Brandi-doll, Julianne looked like the doughy, pasty white mom she’d become.

Brandi turned to Will, who stood on the tarmac, hands on hips, coolly observing the exchange. “Will, you naughty boy! Did you tell your wife about us?” She winked at Julianne. “His mama used to babysit me. Will would let me sit on his lap on the school bus every day. He never lets me sit on his lap anymore.” Brandi’s pout was impressive.

Julianne had difficulty feeling sorry for her, figuring there weren’t many laps she was denied. “That’s because he’s married.” It felt good coming out of her mouth, if for only this one time.

“Oh my gosh, I know, a baby and a wife! I was shocked when I saw it on Twitter the other day. You’re very sneaky, Will, keeping us all in the dark about your secret love life.”

The wind ruffled Will’s hair, but that did nothing to diminish his Norse god–like good looks standing there, a stern expression on his face as if he owned the airfield. “There were quite a few people in the dark, Brandi.”

Julianne felt the rest of his sentence in the heat of his stare. Including me hung in the air between them despite the fact that he didn’t utter another word.

Owen grunted in the carrier, his face scrunched up and red as his lunch worked its way through his little body.

“Is there a changing table in the restroom?” she asked Brandi.

“Sure. There’s even one in the men’s room. Just go on in and make a left at the snack bar. Will and I can catch up while we wait for you.”

That was so not happening. “Actually, darling, it’s your turn.” Julianne presented Will with the diaper bag. As usual, his face was inscrutable as he took the baby carrier from her hand.

“Oh, wow, you change diapers, too, Will? You are the doting dad, aren’t you?” Brandi exclaimed as she led them through the small terminal to the snack bar. “I’ll just get you both a drink for the ride into town.”

“Nicely executed,” Will growled in her ear as he passed by her side.

Julianne grinned. “You’re welcome. The goal is to make you look like a hero in front of your hometown, isn’t it?”

Will just grunted at her as he used his back to push open the door of the men’s room. Julianne took a step in to follow him before he stopped her. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

“I’m not seriously going to make you do this on your own.” Julianne glanced over her shoulder to make sure Brandi had disappeared into the snack bar. “He’s likely got a landfill in his diaper by the smell of it, and you’ve never changed a baby before, have you?”

“I studied a few videos on YouTube. I’ll manage.”

“Ohmigod! You have got to be kidding me!” It was all she could do to contain her incredulous laughter.

Will obviously wasn’t kidding because he slammed the door in Julianne’s face.

 • • • 

His son had pretty impressive range. Julianne was right, his diaper smelled worse than a locker room after the offensive line had pigged out on Mexican food. But Will was proud he made it through without losing his lunch. He’d just finished getting Owen cleaned when his son proceeded to piss all over him.

“Argh! You little bugger!”

Owen pumped his legs as he sucked on his hands, his eyes wide at the sound of Will’s voice. Will grinned at his son, any anger he might have felt washed away by the precious look on Owen’s face. He felt his own face break out into a smile, something he didn’t often do as he realized he’d forgive his son anything.

Will cleaned him up a second time, thankful that Julianne had a well-packed diaper bag. His earlier remark about her parenting by the seat of her pants was a little harsh, but he resented her relaxed, casual demeanor on the plane.

It took nearly ten minutes to get Owen changed; Julianne had impatiently knocked twice already by the time Will emerged from the restroom, his shirt draped over his shoulder. Julianne’s eyes went from concern to merriment at the sight of his T-shirt-clad chest.

“Apparently, you didn’t watch that YouTube video that closely,” she teased, eyes dancing.

“I didn’t count on a sneak attack.”

“You must not have been a Boy Scout. You weren’t prepared.”

Will tossed the diaper bag at her as she laughed openly at him.

“I hope the damage was minimal.”

“I’ll live. I’ve been hit by worse.”

“Oh, that’s right, you’re a big fearless football player. A little pee certainly won’t bring you down.”

They reached the car, a new Volvo SUV with the highest safety rating. He’d bought it sight unseen, so that Owen would be protected in case of an accident. Will snapped the baby carrier into its base in the backseat as Julianne climbed in beside him.

“Is this one of the perks of being a big-name jock—you get a new car every few months?”

It was for a lot of athletes, but most of the new cars Will received for endorsements or awards he gave to charity. He could drive only one at a time, after all. Will ignored her question as he slid into the driver’s seat and started the car. “Make sure he’s fastened securely.” He glanced in the rearview mirror in time to see Julianne roll her eyes at him. Again.

“Yes, Dad,” she murmured as she whispered something in Italian to Owen and laughed.

Owen cooed back at her, and Will felt a twinge of jealousy that his son was interacting with Julianne and not him. Or was it that she was giggling with Owen and not Will? “The car is yours to use while we’re in town.”

Julianne was silent for a moment. “I guess that means our trust issues have evolved significantly if you’re allowing me to drive your car.”

“I’m trusting you with the car, just not the car seat. That, I’m keeping in my office.”

She laughed again, but this time it sounded more patronizing than the laugh she shared with Owen. “Great. The first place I’m going is the jewelry store to buy you a wedding band so the Brandis of this town don’t embarrass themselves by throwing themselves at you.”

Will turned off the state highway onto the main drag of Chances Inlet as he bit back his second smile of the day. Could it be she was actually jealous of little Brandi Hamilton? More likely she just didn’t like being the only one who was designated off-limits. Either way, he had to admire her tenacity. “I believe we’ve already covered this, Princess; I’m not wearing a ring.”

“This marriage may not be real, but I won’t have you humiliating me by skirting your way through town while I play the dutiful wife. I never planned to embarrass you with my pregnancy. I would have kept it a secret to protect Owen. And you,” she finished softly.

For the first time in nearly a week, Will didn’t want to explode when he thought of Julianne keeping Owen from him. Whatever lunatic idea she’d based her actions on, it wasn’t out of malice. He understood that now. Of course, he still thought she was flighty and a bit of a fruit loop, but deliberately mean? Not so much.

He stopped at a traffic light and met her eyes in the mirror. “Relax. If I embarrass you, I embarrass Owen, and that’s never going to happen.”

She didn’t say a word; instead she turned sad eyes to the window, and Will felt like a bully. As they made their way toward the ocean, the familiar tree-lined streets grew more congested with tourists making their way down toward the antiques shops and restaurants lining the lanes adjacent to the piers. They passed the town hall and the large welcome sign.

Chances Inlet, the home to second chances,” she read aloud. “Well, isn’t that ironic.”

“It’s bullshit, is what it is. A tale for tourists so they think the place is quaint. Folks in this town don’t give second chances.” Will maneuvered through the traffic of cars and tourists on foot to turn right onto a tree-lined street.

“If you’re so bitter about the way these people treated you when you were growing up, why do you still have a house here?”

“It’s not my house, it’s my mother’s. I offered to buy her a home of her own when I got my first pro contract, and this is where she insisted on living.” He pulled into a secluded entry gate and continued up the sand driveway.

“Wait, we’re living at your mother’s house?” Julianne’s voice didn’t sound as chagrined as he would have liked it to sound. “With your mother?”

“Yes.” He parked the car in front of a detached garage that featured a covered walkway leading to the side entrance of the house.

“Excellent,” she said cheerily as Will realized he’d misplayed the mom card. Julianne actually seemed happy to have his mother chaperoning, despite the fact that his mother was definitely on his team.

“Aside from our brief introduction, I didn’t get a chance to talk to her the other day at the wedding,” she went on. “Living here will give her the opportunity to get to know Owen better, too. He has only one grandmother to spoil him rotten.” Her voice was wistful as she climbed out of the car.

Will reached in and grabbed the baby carrier. He’d never thought to ask about Julianne’s parents. “Your mother is no longer living?”

“No.”

When she didn’t offer up any more information, Will pressed on. “And your dad?”

“Alive and well. He’s still with the State Department. He’s the ambassador to New Zealand. His current wife always wanted to live there, apparently.” She grabbed the diaper bag and headed up to the covered walkway.

Will sensed the distance in her voice. From her demeanor, he could tell she wasn’t close to her father. He got the impression she and her brother weren’t close, either. But she had devoted friends. Carly had tears in her eyes when they’d left the hospital earlier that day, promising to visit in a few weeks when her husband’s young brother got out of school. Her business manager, Sebastian, had already taken off for London, but not before making sure Will knew the consequences for hurting Julianne in any way. Will had to respect the man’s resolve, even if he didn’t feel the least bit threatened.

The priest, Nicky, was another story. Clearly, he and Julianne shared more than just a friendship; Will needed only to replay the scene of their encounter last summer as evidence of that. But Nicky seemed happy, almost relieved, that Julianne had married Will. And yet Julianne still clung to the priest like a lifeline. Will’s threat to divulge her little outburst from the hotel that night had been the thing that cinched her agreement to their fake marriage. The whole relationship didn’t add up. What worried Will more was that he even cared.

“Oh. My. God!”

Will stepped up onto the covered walkway next to where Julianne stood looking out at the magnificent vista the house overlooked.

“Incredible, isn’t it?” he asked. Waves from the Atlantic Ocean slapped against the barricade fifty yards from the verandah of the two-story home. A long wooden pier stretched over the dunes to the beach beyond. Boats bounced farther out to sea as a lighthouse kept watch from its perch down the peninsula. “My mother always dreamed of having a house on the ocean. This view is one of the reasons she’ll never leave here.”

“This isn’t on the ocean,” Julianne breathed, her voice panicked. “This is in the ocean.”

Thanks to his quick reflexes, Will managed to wrap his free hand around Julianne just as her face went white and her eyes rolled back in her head.

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