Tracy Solheim - Foolish Games

“I forgot all about it being your one-week anniversary. I wonder what the gift for that is?” Gavin mused.

Will said nothing, staring at the television screen as the Braves turned a double play to end the inning.

“You’d probably be off the hook with sex, seeing as most couples would still be on their honeymoon,” Gavin continued. “Too bad you two aren’t having sex. It would really take the pressure off a gift.”

Will tossed a football at his friend’s head. Laughing, Gavin ducked, catching the ball with the ease borne of having been on the receiving end of football passes most of his life. But Will wasn’t laughing. He’d managed to avoid thinking about sex with his wife, who wasn’t really his wife, for the past several days. Now he couldn’t get the thought out of his mind again. Not only that, but he also had to worry about Brody Janik. What was he really doing in town? More importantly, whose side was he on?

“I’m really not taking on any new clients right now.”

Julianne stared into the annoyingly handsome face of Brody Janik. If Will was a Viking god, this man was all Hollywood glamour boy: sparkling blue eyes, perfect teeth, and a ripped body that he wore with ease. Brody was one of those dangerous men who looked like sin and knew it. What his perfect physique didn’t get him, his charm likely did. Julianne normally loathed men like him, but it was not hard to make an exception for Brody. Something about him was irresistibly likable.

“Did I mention her future husband is a veteran?”

Julianne sighed. He had mentioned that fact, several times. Brody’s sister was marrying a young doctor who’d served as a military reservist on the USS Comfort for eight months. While that didn’t actually qualify as combat duty, he was performing a service for those men and women who had seen combat and paid a price for it. It was a nice emotional touch, and Brody used it to his advantage.

They were sitting in the bright kitchen, Julianne sipping coffee while Brody guzzled a mineral water. He’d arrived at the house twenty minutes after Will had left for his daily workout at the gym in town. Dressed in running shorts, a sweaty Baltimore Orioles T-shirt, and a well-worn baseball cap from a Boston bar, he’d seemed only mildly chagrined at having missed Will. Instead, he made himself at home in the kitchen, insisting that he’d come to see her anyway.

Owen chortled from the other room. He was lying on a quilt on the floor, swatting at a mobile held over his head by a colorful stand that straddled his body. Will was right; their son’s dexterity was awe-inspiring.

Brody pulled his iPhone from his pocket. “Here, let me show you a picture of them. You’ll see that Tricia deserves a special gown.”

She tried to protest, but it was too late. An image of an adoring couple flashed on the screen before she could stop him.

“They make a beautiful couple,” Julianne remarked. “And lucky for your sister, several of my gowns will be affordably mass-produced later this year and she can get one then.”

Information about the sale of JV Designs had not been made public yet, but she needed to shake Brody loose. Aside from the quick image of the christening gown on the plane, she hadn’t had an additional epiphany since. What was once as easy as closing her eyes and seeing a design was now a gift locked away in the far recesses of her brain. She had only three months to unlock her muse and begin making money again.

“She doesn’t want a store-bought gown. She wants an original. And money isn’t the problem. I’m paying.” Brody reached over and grabbed her hand, gently squeezing it. “Whatever it costs. Just please say you’ll do it.”

Julianne wanted to cry. She was touched by the sweet gesture of Brody buying his sister a wedding gown, but she couldn’t design one for him. It was impossible.

“Get your paws off my wife!”

She jumped out of her chair, pulling her hand out of Brody’s as Owen let out a startled shriek. Will stormed into the kitchen, making a beeline for Brody.

“Dude, is that all the time you defensive types spend working out? No wonder we keep getting scored on.” Brody leaned on the back two legs of his chair, clearly unfazed by the menacing wall of muscle descending on him. Of course, she figured he wouldn’t be in the NFL if he couldn’t stare down a linebacker.

“I swear, Janik, I’ve had enough of that pretty mouth of yours,” Will snarled.

“Stop it!” Julianne picked up a crying Owen. “You’re scaring the baby.”

She watched as Will took a moment to physically dial back his temper, but when he finally looked over at Julianne, his face was a grim line. Stuffing a pacifier in the baby’s mouth, she stepped between the two sparring mountains of testosterone. “Brody just wants me to design his sister a gown.”

“I told you I’d talk to her about it, Brody.”

“Obviously you haven’t, because it’s been three days since I mentioned it to you and she didn’t know a thing about it.” Brody’s shine was wearing off; he was starting to annoy Julianne with his taunting of Will.

“It doesn’t matter! I’m not making the gown!” She practically had to shout to get the two men to hear her.

Brody slammed the chair down and stood. “Don’t let him tell you what to do! You can do it if you really want to.”

Will was chest to chest with him in an instant. “Don’t you dare talk to her like that!”

Owen started crying again, the pacifier dropping to the ground.

“No!” Julianne cried. “I can’t! I can’t design gowns anymore!”

She turned on her heel and bolted up the stairs, a screaming Owen on her shoulder.

“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.