One corner of his mouth twitched before he apparently remembered she was the enemy. He pulled an envelope from the pocket of his suit jacket. “Your copy of the separation papers. I filed them this morning.”

He held the envelope out for her, but Julianne was having trouble making her arms move. Roscoe finally tossed it down onto the bench beside her. “The divorce will be final one year from today. For now, you share joint custody. But we’ll revisit that after we finish with the hearing tomorrow.”

Julianne’s hand flinched as the envelope grazed her fingers. The rest of her body was numb. “How annoyingly efficient you are, Roscoe. I hope Will pays you well.”

If he answered, she didn’t hear him because Owen had begun crying again. His forlorn wails filled the foyer as an anguished Carly handed the baby, now strapped in his carrier, to Roscoe.

“Shh.” Roscoe gently swung the car carrier as he brushed a thumb over Owen’s temple. Owen calmed measurably as his mouth settled around the pacifier Roscoe offered him.

Julianne wrapped her arms around her midsection in order to keep from grabbing her son back. If she touched Owen, even kissed him good-bye, she’d never be able to let Roscoe leave with him. “Please,” she pleaded. “Be careful with him.”

Empathy touched his eyes. “I have twin boys. They’ve made it almost three years with me as a parent. Owen will be just fine. I’ll have him back, safe and sound, by eight o’clock.”

He whispered something to Carly as he walked back out the open door.

“Roscoe!” Julianne called, springing to her feet.

He turned to face her, his bland expression returned to his face.

“Will,” she stammered. “Is . . . is he okay?”

She wrung her hands, chewing on her bottom lip as he seemed to take ages to answer her. It was as if he were trying to come up with the words that could hurt the most. And he did.

“No.”

Julianne watched as he walked down the sidewalk, a whimpering Owen swaying by his side. Mercifully, Carly closed the door just as Julianne landed in a pile of devastation on the floor, sobs wracking her body.

“My God,” Carly said as she crouched down and wrapped her arms around Julianne. “You love him. You’re in love with Will.”

Julianne would have laughed at Carly’s incredulousness except she felt as if her body had broken and she’d never feel joy again.

“You don’t know how happy I am to know this,” Carly was saying as she stroked Julianne’s back. “Shane swore you’d told your brother about Will to get back at him for forcing you to marry. But I told him you’d never, ever do that. No matter how mad you were at Will, you’d never sell him out like that. It’s just not in you. It was actually our first big fight.”

Her words propelled Julianne to sob harder. Not only had she torpedoed her own marriage, but she’d caused tension in Carly and Shane’s as well.

“Oh, Jules, I don’t know how this happened, but we’re going to make this right. We have to make Will believe you didn’t do this.”

Julianne shook her head violently. “But I did do it, Carly. I did!”

Carly’s face was incredulous again. Her hand stopped mid-stroke on Julianne’s back. “I don’t understand.”

“It was an accident. I told Stephen, but I didn’t mean to. Honest, I didn’t do it on purpose.”

“Does Will know this?

“I tried to tell him,” Julianne croaked out. “But he wouldn’t listen. He and his cretin agent found my notes on the new company. It was supposed to be a surprise. For Will.”

“Jules, I’m still not following you. What does one have to do with the other?”

Julianne brushed the tears off her face and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “My new clothing line. It’s for infants. I want to manufacture them in Chances Inlet. I was . . . am going to give the company to Will. He thinks everyone in that town looks down on him because of his circumstances as a kid. It’s his hometown and he feels like he doesn’t belong. This will give him that chance to feel a part of Chances Inlet. Not only will he be giving people an opportunity to work, he’ll get something back: pride in his hometown.”

“Go on. Where does Stephen come into all this?” Carly asked.

“I needed to borrow against my grandmother’s trust. I asked Stephen to facilitate it. While I had him on the phone, he started going off about Will and this Bountygate mess. He played me like a violin, Carly. I defended Will, of course.” She gulped around a sob. “I had no idea he was heading up the Senate hearings. Until it was too late.”

Carly smoothed the hair back from Julianne’s face. “Of course you defended him. Because you love him.” She gave Julianne a knowing smile. “Now we just have to make him see how much you love him.”

“Right now, I’d just be happy if he didn’t hate me,” Julianne whispered.

“Not good enough,” Carly said. “I was almost killed last year before I could tell Shane I couldn’t live without him. If you love Will, Jules, you have to be all in with my plan.”

“You have a plan?”

“Yep. And we have to hurry if we want to get to the media before the hearing tomorrow.”

“Media?” Julianne was stunned at her friend’s enthusiasm for dealing with anyone wielding a press badge. “You avoid the paparazzi. They’ve stalked you most of your life.”

“Mmmm. I know, but I’ve forced myself to swim with the sharks a few times this past year to help the people I love the very most. Don’t worry. It’ll work. I promise. The first step, though, is to get you off the floor. My legs are all tingly.”

* * *

The bourbon no longer burned when it went down. Will wasn’t sure if that meant he was suitably inebriated or the alcohol had eroded the lining of his throat. He was going for mind-numbing drunk, but the fact that he was still sitting upright probably meant he had a few more glasses to go.

A key turned in the lock and Will let out a string of curse words. He tried to get off the sofa to intercept Brody, but his head swam as soon as he stood. Hmm. Drunker than he thought. Good sign. Will slouched back down in a satisfied stupor and attempted to pour the amber liquid into the glass in front of him, but the stupid thing kept moving.

“Dude.”

Brody’s voice startled him and Will swore as half the bourbon ended up on the coffee table. Slamming down the bottle, he wiped up the spill with the T-shirt Owen had spit up on earlier. “Get out,” he growled at Brody.

Brody ignored him, sliding into the leather recliner across the room. “Love what you’ve done with the place.” He glanced around. Owen’s baby paraphernalia was strewn about the loft, along with an assortment of take-out containers and dirty clothes. “Early preschool fits you somehow.”

“Fuck off.”

The annoying tight end perched his sneaker-clad feet on the coffee table, a move guaranteed to annoy Will, who swatted at the bright yellow shoes but missed, nearly falling off the sofa instead. Will unleashed another string of locker room prose.

“Somebody needs a Snickers bar.”

“I mean it, Brody.” Will’s lips weren’t working as well as he’d have liked because the words were slurred. “I don’t want you here. Go home.”

“No can do.”

“I don’t need a babysitter!” Will roared.

Brody just raised an eyebrow, gesturing to the stuffed Elmo doll Will clutched in his hand. He heaved it across the room, which in turn caused the entire loft to spin.

“Dude.” Brody employed his most solicitous tone, the same one he probably used to get half the women on the East Coast to slip off their panties for him. “You should probably eat something. Get something in your belly to soak up all that liquor. Let me call for take-out.” He reached for the bottle, but Will snatched it away, gripping it tightly on the sofa beside him.

Rubbing his hands through his hair, Brody placed both feet on the floor and leaned toward Will. If Will wanted to, he could have the pest by the throat in an instant. Only his hands weren’t working so well right now.

“Look, Will,” Brody said. “I came tonight because the guys want you to know we all stand behind you. No matter what you did or what you do tomorrow. We’ve got your back.”

Will snorted. “They didn’t need to send you over here to annoy me. They could have just told me at the training facility rather than talking behind my back.”

With an exasperated sigh, Brody shot to his feet. “Easier said than done when you’re acting like a surly shit all the time. No one wants to talk to you in person. I actually drew the short straw, asshole, and was rewarded with the honor of wasting my evening watching you slobber in your bourbon. But I’m out of here.”

He stepped around Owen’s swing, brushing over a stack of papers on top of the coffee table. Will’s reflexes were too slow and the separation agreement floated to the floor right in front of Brody’s obnoxious sneakers. He plucked it off the rug before Will could get to it.

“That was fast,” Brody said as he scanned the document.

“Mind your damn business.” Will reached for the paper, but Brody took a step back.

“I just thought the way things were going in that hometown of yours, you wouldn’t let her go without a fight.”

“I told you, Brody, it wasn’t that kind of marriage.”

“Could have fooled me.” Brody flicked the paper back toward Will. “Well, I guess now she’s fair game for the rest of us.”

Will wasn’t sure how he got across the room so quickly, but he had Brody pinned against the wall, his forearm to the little twerp’s throat, poised to crush his windpipe. Unfortunately, Brody wasn’t fighting back. Instead his eyes were bright with mischief.