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Foolish Games(30)

By:Tracy Solheim


“Oooh!” she squealed as she slid off the car and made a beeline toward Owen. “Is this your baby?”

Julianne just barely resisted the urge to pull the carrier holding her son up to shoulder height just to watch the girl fall flat on her face.

“He’s sooo cute,” she cooed as she looked up at Julianne. “Hi! I’m Brandi. With an i.”

“Of course you are,” Julianne couldn’t resist saying. Brandi-with-an-i probably dotted her i with a heart. Julianne hated the stab of self-doubt that coursed through her stomach. She’d taken care with how she’d dressed today, but next to the athletic, tan Brandi-doll, Julianne looked like the doughy, pasty white mom she’d become.

Brandi turned to Will, who stood on the tarmac, hands on hips, coolly observing the exchange. “Will, you naughty boy! Did you tell your wife about us?” She winked at Julianne. “His mama used to babysit me. Will would let me sit on his lap on the school bus every day. He never lets me sit on his lap anymore.” Brandi’s pout was impressive.

Julianne had difficulty feeling sorry for her, figuring there weren’t many laps she was denied. “That’s because he’s married.” It felt good coming out of her mouth, if for only this one time.

“Oh my gosh, I know, a baby and a wife! I was shocked when I saw it on Twitter the other day. You’re very sneaky, Will, keeping us all in the dark about your secret love life.”

The wind ruffled Will’s hair, but that did nothing to diminish his Norse god–like good looks standing there, a stern expression on his face as if he owned the airfield. “There were quite a few people in the dark, Brandi.”

Julianne felt the rest of his sentence in the heat of his stare. Including me hung in the air between them despite the fact that he didn’t utter another word.

Owen grunted in the carrier, his face scrunched up and red as his lunch worked its way through his little body.

“Is there a changing table in the restroom?” she asked Brandi.

“Sure. There’s even one in the men’s room. Just go on in and make a left at the snack bar. Will and I can catch up while we wait for you.”

That was so not happening. “Actually, darling, it’s your turn.” Julianne presented Will with the diaper bag. As usual, his face was inscrutable as he took the baby carrier from her hand.

“Oh, wow, you change diapers, too, Will? You are the doting dad, aren’t you?” Brandi exclaimed as she led them through the small terminal to the snack bar. “I’ll just get you both a drink for the ride into town.”

“Nicely executed,” Will growled in her ear as he passed by her side.

Julianne grinned. “You’re welcome. The goal is to make you look like a hero in front of your hometown, isn’t it?”

Will just grunted at her as he used his back to push open the door of the men’s room. Julianne took a step in to follow him before he stopped her. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

“I’m not seriously going to make you do this on your own.” Julianne glanced over her shoulder to make sure Brandi had disappeared into the snack bar. “He’s likely got a landfill in his diaper by the smell of it, and you’ve never changed a baby before, have you?”

“I studied a few videos on YouTube. I’ll manage.”

“Ohmigod! You have got to be kidding me!” It was all she could do to contain her incredulous laughter.

Will obviously wasn’t kidding because he slammed the door in Julianne’s face.

• • •

His son had pretty impressive range. Julianne was right, his diaper smelled worse than a locker room after the offensive line had pigged out on Mexican food. But Will was proud he made it through without losing his lunch. He’d just finished getting Owen cleaned when his son proceeded to piss all over him.

“Argh! You little bugger!”

Owen pumped his legs as he sucked on his hands, his eyes wide at the sound of Will’s voice. Will grinned at his son, any anger he might have felt washed away by the precious look on Owen’s face. He felt his own face break out into a smile, something he didn’t often do as he realized he’d forgive his son anything.

Will cleaned him up a second time, thankful that Julianne had a well-packed diaper bag. His earlier remark about her parenting by the seat of her pants was a little harsh, but he resented her relaxed, casual demeanor on the plane.

It took nearly ten minutes to get Owen changed; Julianne had impatiently knocked twice already by the time Will emerged from the restroom, his shirt draped over his shoulder. Julianne’s eyes went from concern to merriment at the sight of his T-shirt-clad chest.