The beat of a loud bass interrupted Julianne’s thoughts. She looked through the large picture window beside her and there stood Brody Janik, looking like he was posing for a deodorant ad inside the Ship’s Iron Gym. Brandi, the one-woman welcoming committee of Chances Inlet, was adoringly admiring his form as he hefted a dumbbell.

Brody was Will’s teammate, which meant they probably had some sort of locker room code about not snitching on the other, but if she kept her questions vague enough, she might be able to find out what exactly was going on and how it impacted Will. Believing it was worth a shot, she maneuvered the stroller into the lobby of the gym. The music was loud and Julianne worried it might wake Owen. She’d stay only a minute, she decided, pulling the blanket over his ears.

Being the wife of a celebrity had its perks. The college-aged kid at the desk let her in without having to produce proof of membership. He even asked if she’d need daycare for “the little guy.” Not without earplugs, she wanted to say. Instead, she shook her head and asked if he wouldn’t mind fetching Brody for her, gesturing to the sleeping baby in the stroller.

Brody was by her side instantly, wiping his concerned face with a towel. “Hey, what’s up?” He peeked at Owen, still asleep. “Do you need me to get Will?”

“Will’s here?”

Darn! Darn! Darn. Of course Will was here. He was a stickler for his routine and he always worked out this time of the morning. Suddenly, she felt ridiculous letting her brother’s comments get to her.

Will wasn’t a monster. He played an aggressive game, and sometimes people got hurt. Off the field, he was cool and composed. She only had to conjure up the picture of his big hand on Owen’s back this morning as the two slept to know Will was gentle and protective. That same hand had rubbed her back during Owen’s transfusion. Not to mention how he had comforted her during the storm that night of the wedding. She took a deep, calming breath. Her brother was being ridiculous; she and Owen were perfectly safe sharing a house with Will.

Brody cocked his head, his look quizzical. “Julianne?”

She had to think fast. Wistfully, she remembered the half-finished sketch in the stroller. Julianne wasn’t sure if she could finish the design, but she felt like the final image was just beyond her fingertips and she needed something to help her reach it.

“No, I don’t need Will. I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind texting me the photo of your sister and her fiancé? I—I might have some ideas about a gown.”

“It’s okay, Julianne,” he said softly, his tone laced with empathy. “I have four older sisters. Two of them have kids. After each pregnancy, it took them a while to return to being . . . themselves again.” He put a hand on her shoulder and gently squeezed. “Don’t push yourself. My sister understands.”

She felt the tears threatening. Her emotions were in such a tangle this morning. Maybe he was right and this was some sort of postpartum depression. But if she was going to get back to being herself—Julianne Marchione, fashion designer to the rich and famous—she needed to finish this design.

Something about the compassion on Brody’s face made her admit her deep secret. “I haven’t been able to sketch much of anything for a while, but I started something this morning and I’d like to see if I can finish it. It might not even be something your sister wants, but . . .”

Brody grinned at her, his cover-boy smile lighting up his face. “Atta girl! I won’t say anything to Tricia unless you tell me to. You just take your time.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket. “What’s your number?”

Julianne gave it to him, and within seconds her phone beeped in response. The emotional roller coaster she was riding was on the upswing, because she felt more optimistic than she had in a long time. Until, of course, her husband’s voice boomed behind her.

“Are you crazy? Owen will go deaf in this place! What’s he doing in here?”

If Brody was all-American gorgeous, Will was pure Norse gladiator. Despite the fact that both men were nearly the same height, Will’s presence loomed larger in the room, more commanding. His hair stood up on end from where he’d run sweaty fingers through it during his workout, and his perspiration-soaked shirt stuck to this body, outlining his well-muscled chest. He was the picture of a virile, conquering male. One who was also angry.

Julianne felt something stir inside her, something other than fear. It was more like desire. And relief that her instincts were not wrong about Will. If he were all the things her brother said he was, he wouldn’t be hovering over his sleeping son, worried about his exposure to loud noise.

“Seriously, dude, that kid will be able to play in any stadium if he can withstand this kind of noise.” Brody’s voice was filled with awe as he glanced into the stroller.

Will answered him with his patented glare. A crowd had started to gather, and Julianne wanted to avoid another argument like the one they’d had in the kitchen the other day.

“There you are,” she said, improvising as she went. “I just came to see if you would be home for lunch today.”

The befuddled look on Will’s face was amusing. True to her word, she hadn’t cooked a thing for anyone but herself since arriving in town. Any leftovers had suspiciously disappeared during the night, but she let that go since it was his kitchen.

Julianne took a step closer, whispering through her pasted-on smile. “Be nice, I’m playing the dutiful wife here.” Slowly, so everyone could glimpse her shiny, fake wedding band, she reached up and ran a hand over his well-defined pectoral muscle. Will’s body went rigid beneath her touch, but his eyes were blazing. She sucked in a breath, drawing her trembling hand back and placing it on the handle of the stroller to steady herself.

“I’ll see you at home then,” she called out as she hurriedly pushed the stroller out of the gym, not risking a glance back at her husband.

Fifteen

“Oh my gosh! This place is cooler than I thought it would be!”

Annabeth looked up from the antique humidor she was repairing, startled to hear Sophie Osbourne’s voice in her shop.

“Sophie! I hadn’t heard from you so I thought you weren’t coming.” Annabeth hurriedly wiped the wood polish off her hands. Sophie hadn’t texted or e-mailed in several days, leaving Annabeth to think either the girl hadn’t been successful in bringing up her grade or she’d just lost interest. She’d hoped it was the latter, not wanting Hank to be right in his perception of his own daughter.

Annabeth had to catch her breath. Not only because Sophie had launched herself into her arms, but also from the sight of the girl’s father standing behind her. Dressed in khaki pants and a Blaze golf shirt, Hank looked more casual then she was used to. More handsome, too. His close-cropped sandy hair was gray at the temples and laugh lines fanned out from his smiling blue eyes, but his body language boasted of youth and vigor. He leaned a hip nonchalantly against one of the glass counters, crossing his arms over a well-muscled chest, a cat-ate-the-canary grin on his face.

“We thought we’d surprise you,” he said.

“Guess what?” Sophie stepped out of Annabeth’s arms and grabbed her hands. “I got a C-plus in physics!” She skipped gleefully in a circle, pulling Annabeth along with her.

“Oh, Soph, that’s wonderful!” Annabeth hugged her again. “I’m so proud of you.”

“And guess what else? Dad is taking me to California next week! Isn’t that great?”

Annabeth dared a look at Hank. “It’s better than great. It’s fabulous.”

“So I really don’t need the job, after all, I guess. I hope you weren’t saving it for me?”

Annabeth shook her head. Truthfully, she would have been paying Sophie out of her own pocket. The shop did okay, but not enough to support more than the one employee she already had. “As long as you keep sending me jewelry. You already will have quite a pocketful of spending money for your trip.”

Sophie’s face lit up. “Ohmigosh! It sold? Really? I brought more, but I didn’t think you would have sold any yet. It’s in my room at the inn. I’m in the Paisley room. It’s sooo cool! We’re staying here for a few days. Would it be okay if I hung out here with you while Dad plays golf? Ohmigosh, Dad, can I go get my box for Annabeth?”

She was out the door before either Annabeth or Hank could answer.

“I think you made her day.” Hank stepped away from the counter and began exploring the shop.

“I’m just so proud she did it.”

“Me, too. I’m giving her a trip to California as an apology for doubting her ability. What boon should I give you?”

She wasn’t sure what to say because she really wasn’t sure what he was asking. “Me? I don’t need anything. I didn’t do anything.”

Hank walked past her, studying the odds and ends lining the counters. He lifted a clock to examine it further. “I wouldn’t call fiercely defending a girl you barely know from her nitwit father nothing. Or encouraging her not only to go after her dream, but to put her nose to the grindstone. That wasn’t nothing. I told you this before: You have a kind heart, Miss Connelly. At least let me take you to dinner to make up for my error in judgment with my daughter.”

“I doubt you’ve ever made an error in judgment.”

“Oh, I’ve made a few.” He moved a step closer. “Have dinner with me, Annabeth.”

She wanted to say yes, but she knew it was a bad idea to get involved with Hank.

“No,” she forced out before she could change her mind.