Tracy Solheim - Foolish Games

Annabeth picked up a pillow and, under the guise of fluffing it, gave it a firm punch. “He’s made no secret about that.”

Julianne sat Indian style on the bed, her chin resting on her hands and a broad grin on her face. “So, what are you going to do about it?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing? Why not?” Julianne protested. “He’s a very handsome man. And he’s got all his teeth and all his hair.”

Annabeth threw the pillow at her.

“Seriously, Annabeth. You’re a beautiful, financially independent woman with no one but yourself to answer to. Hank’s a pretty good catch, by all accounts. My friend Carly used to work for him. When I talked to her this afternoon, she described him as a very loyal, caring man who’d be devoted to any woman lucky enough to catch his eye.”

Annabeth was mortified. “You talked to your friend about this?”

“Well, I didn’t name any names, if that’s what you mean. But I wasn’t going to invite some man over here to leer at my son’s grandmother without knowing something about him!”

Annabeth didn’t know whether to smack Julianne or hug her. “How did you know there was any interest on his part, anyway?”

Julianne picked at a string on the bedspread. “I might have seen you two in the shop this morning.”

Annabeth plopped down on the bed beside her. “Does Will know?”

Julianne snorted. “I mentioned it, but he’s a bit obtuse. He believes what he wants to believe.”

Annabeth laughed at that. Her son would not be able to steamroll over his wife.

“He’s only in town for the weekend, Annabeth. There’s no harm in enjoying his company and enjoying his attention. You deserve it.”

She was right, Annabeth thought. She couldn’t get her heart broken in three days. Besides, he wouldn’t be able to discover all her faults in that short time.

There was a knock at the door followed by Sophie’s voice. “Annabeth?”

Julianne pulled open the door and smiled at Sophie. “Oh gosh, we left you defenseless down there with the NFL’s finest, sorry.”

Sophie rolled her eyes. “I’m used to it. Hey, Brody says there’s a great little ice cream stand a few blocks from the inn. It’s called the Patty Wagon. It’s named after the innkeeper. Isn’t that cool? Daddy and I are going to go check it out. Do you guys want to come with us?”

Julianne gestured to the nursery. “Owen’s down for the night; I need to stay here. How about you, Annabeth?” Her smile held a challenge in it.

Annabeth wasn’t sure she was being wise, but there was something about Hank Osbourne that she wanted to explore. Perhaps, if she kept their encounters light, they could be friends. He was Will’s employer, after all. And Sophie’s father. She enjoyed knowing his daughter and wanted to keep that relationship intact.

“I think that sounds lovely.” Decision made, she linked arms with Sophie and headed out the door.

Julianne put her hand on her back and stretched. “That’s the one thing about cooking that I don’t enjoy: cleaning up.”

Will harrumphed as he stacked the frying pan in the cabinet. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

Their guests had left nearly an hour ago, Brody leading the way to the small ice cream stand that was sure to be packed with holiday weekend tourists. She and Will had just conquered the mountain of dishes left behind.

“You know what they say: A messy kitchen is a happy kitchen.”

Will wiped the counters down. “This kitchen was pretty happy the way it was.”

“Hey, at least your house looks like somebody lives in it now.”

Will glanced around the first floor, a pained look on his face. “Yes, yes it does.”

Julianne stuck her tongue out at him. “Tell me the truth. Did you stay around to help me clean up because you really can’t stand to have your space out of order? Or was it because you wanted to be able to watch out the window to see when your mom gets home?”

Will draped a dish towel around the back of her neck and pulled her body into contact with his. “Or, option three, I wanted to be with you.”

His voice was a low rumble underneath her hands on his chest, and Julianne shivered. They hadn’t been alone since this afternoon, when clearly their relationship had hit a turning point.

“Option three works,” she whispered.

Will touched his forehead to hers. “We need to talk through a few things, Julianne.”

“Yeah.”

Will’s cell phone vibrated on the counter. Keeping his eyes locked with hers, he picked it up and answered brusquely.

“Roscoe, can’t this wait until tomorrow?”

He stepped away from her. Apparently, whatever it was couldn’t wait.

Will placed his thumb over the phone’s mouthpiece and sighed. “I’ve got to take this. You should probably get some sleep, anyway, while the baby is sleeping. We can talk tomorrow.”

His face looked strained, as if he wanted to do anything else but take this call. Julianne wanted to reach out and offer him comfort, but they weren’t there yet in their relationship. She felt they were getting closer, but she didn’t want to overstep the invisible boundaries that still kept them apart.

Julianne nodded, and Will disappeared into his study. As she climbed the stairs, she could hear Will’s angry voice as he argued with his agent. She checked on Owen before changing into a pair of sleep shorts and a tank top and climbing into bed.

But she was too keyed up to sleep. Instead, she crawled into the big chair under the dormer and pulled out the sketch she’d begun for Brody’s sister. Half an hour later, the gown was nearly complete; a few notes on the embellishments still needed to be added, but Julianne was pleased and relieved at the finished product.

A sound from the nursery alerted her to the fact that Will was checking on Owen. She heard his footsteps hesitate in front of the door to her adjoining room, before he left the nursery and moved down the hall to his own room. Julianne knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep if they didn’t finish what they’d started in the kitchen earlier. She just didn’t know if she had the nerve to make the first move. Maybe when Owen woke for his two A.M. feeding, he’d join her in the kitchen and they could have one of their quiet chats.

“Ah, the heck with it!” Julianne couldn’t wait another four hours to make her last confession to Will. She needed to do it now while she had the nerve.

His door was closed and she knocked softly, but there was no response. The shower was running in the distance. She debated whether to go in, but she’d come this far, so she forced herself to turn the doorknob and go inside.

Will’s bedroom was decorated in much the same style as the room Julianne was occupying, with one exception; the room featured a massive king-sized bed. The bed was situated in front of two sets of French doors leading out to the balcony overlooking the Atlantic. Fortunately, the sound of the shower drowned out most of the roar of the ocean. The door to Will’s bathroom was open, and steam wafted into the room.

The shower stopped, and now it was too late for Julianne to change her mind. She sank down on the bed in full view of the bathroom mirror and waited for Will to emerge. When he finally did, the sight of him stole her breath.

Clothed, the man looked like a Viking warrior, but naked, he looked like a Greek god. Droplets of water clung to his broad back, the lucky things making their way over his muscled torso, down from his tapered waist to his dimpled butt and finally to his hard thighs and defined calves dusted with blond hair.

Julianne’s nipples were painfully hard and she had to cross her legs to quell the tension between them. Will took a pull from a bottle of beer before grabbing a towel and drying his hair. Using the towel to wipe the condensation from the mirror, his hand suddenly stilled when he spied her reflection. Their eyes met in the mirror, but Will didn’t say a word or turn around. Slowly, he wrapped the towel around his waist and grabbed a bottle of ibuprofen. He swallowed two pills with a swig from his beer.

“You shouldn’t be in here,” he finally said, speaking to her reflection in the mirror.

“You shouldn’t be mixing alcohol and pills.”

He arched an eyebrow at her as if to say, Look who’s talking.

Julianne crossed her arms over her chest. “I wasn’t drinking that night!” She wasn’t sure if he’d heard her because his eyes had glazed over at the site of her aroused nipples. Rising to her feet, she attempted to take a step toward him.

“Don’t!” he growled, his back still to her. He closed his eyes and his fingers clung to the vanity. “I can’t do this tonight. We need to talk things out, but if you stay here now, we won’t be talking.”

“I just need to tell you something.”

“Not tonight! Please, Julianne, don’t you see? We started at this spot and everything got messed up. If we want this to work, we need to start at the beginning. We need to talk, but I’ve had a pretty shitty evening, and talking is the last thing I want to do with you.”

Julianne was beginning to get annoyed. “Well, thanks for the lovely compliment about my dinner. I just came in here to tell you something, but now I don’t think I want to.”

“Oh, for the love of all that is holy!” Will threw his hands up in the air as he turned and stalked toward her, his towel parting as he walked.

Julianne’s legs gave out at the sight of the magnificent body bearing down on her, and she slumped back down on the bed.

“Oh no, Princess.” He lifted her by her elbows, his fingers hot against her bare skin. “Say what you came to say, and then you’d better run for your life.”