“I wouldn’t have made you give him up! And you should have stuck around the morning after to at least exchange names, given that the condom broke.”
“Oh.” She bit her lip. “I thought it was just my migraine medicine that made my birth control ineffective. I don’t remember the condom breaking.”
“It was at a pretty pivotal part of the evening, Princess.”
“My medicine makes me a little woozy, so I don’t really remember the evening that much.”
“You don’t remember?” Jesus! The best sex of his life and she’d been stoned?
She didn’t meet his eyes, giving him a little shrug instead. Will felt like his head was going to explode. He closed his eyes and tried in vain to sort out his feelings. Her story was plausible, but he still didn’t trust her. He didn’t want to trust her. Well, at least most of his body didn’t want to.
“Now do you see why we should just start from today and move forward?” She posed the question softly. “Our lives are going to be forever entwined with Owen’s. It would be a lot easier if we could at least get along. For his sake.”
Will rubbed his hands down his face. “You’re not taking him to Italy.” He’d compromise if he had to, but not on that. “You’ll have to tell your clients you’re working from the U.S. until we can arrange something.”
“Not a problem. I’ve . . . I’ve put my work on hold for now. I need to concentrate on Owen.” Her statement surprised him. When he’d Googled her the night before, Will had discovered that Julianne was a rising star in the very competitive design industry. She’d been right when she said she could easily support a child, but what effect would a prolonged absence have on her career? Begrudgingly, he had to admire her devotion to Owen; he only wished that dedication to do what was best for her son had included allowing his father in his life long before the baby’s illness forced her to.
“Owen is just a tiny baby,” she said. “He needs his mother right now. I can get a place here in D.C. or closer to you in Baltimore. You can see him every day. But I can’t be separated from him. Not after I almost lost him.”
Will leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. He had no intention of keeping her from Owen. She was right, the baby needed her. Hell, he didn’t even know how to feed him, much less change a diaper. But in three months he’d be back playing football, and that meant he’d have little time to care for Owen. He needed to bond with him now, to let his son know he wasn’t a fatherless kid who’d be looked on disdainfully by everyone else. Like Julianne, he didn’t want to be apart from his baby right now.
Julianne’s tone became more urgent at his silence. “Please, I’ll agree to joint custody; we’ll live wherever you want us to. I’ll do whatever you want, Will.” The last part came out as a strangled whisper.
He opened his eyes and considered her for a moment. “My place in Baltimore is small and in the heart of the city. The only other home I own is in coastal North Carolina. I planned to spend a couple of weeks or so there during the summer, but I can go now. It’s a big house and the sunshine and sea air will be good for Owen.”
“We’d all live in the same house? Near the ocean?”
Jesus, was she already backpedaling? “A minute ago you said you’d do anything, live anywhere. Was that just lip service, Princess?”
“I meant it! It’s just that babies cry and don’t sleep through the night. Caring for a baby is twenty-four-seven. You need to be sure you know what you’re getting into. You might want some space.”
“I have three months until training camp begins and the season starts up again. Right now I have nothing but time on my hands.” Not exactly true—he had obligations during the off-season—but he wasn’t going to let her martyr herself by putting her career on hold and have it bite him in the ass later on. “You’re not the only one who wants to bond with Owen. And, like I said, it’s a big house. Plenty of room for you, Owen, and me.” He didn’t bother mentioning his mother lived there, too.
Damn, he’d forgotten to call his mother. He needed to before she heard about this from somewhere else.
Annabeth Connelly insisted on living in the small town where she’d grown up on the poor side of the tracks, the same place she’d raised Will. If she ever felt the same contempt for the townspeople who’d treated them with such disdain, she never showed it. Will spent as little time there as possible, going back only when Chase or Gavin were in town. But Gavin was living there indefinitely, sorting out his father’s business after his death of a heart attack, and Will found himself in Chances Inlet more frequently lately.