“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.
Hank didn’t flinch. “Golf, then. I’m meeting Greg Norman at his course at Folly Beach. Come with me.”
Annabeth shook her head.
“Fine. Parasailing or a ferry ride to Bald Head. Pick one.”
“I’m afraid I’m going to have to say no.”
Hank reached over and fingered the bracelet she was wearing, one designed by his daughter. The warmth of his finger on her skin sent a shot of desire through her body.
“Are you afraid, Annabeth?” he asked softly. “Because you shouldn’t be.”
She had to work to swallow the lump in her throat. “I’m afraid that you’re offering more than an apology.”
He didn’t deny it. “And what if you deserve more than an apology?”
“I don’t.”
His hand moved from her wrist to her jawline. It was all she could do not to lean into his caress.
“I couldn’t disagree more, Annabeth. I’ll be in town through the holiday weekend if you change your mind.”
Annabeth gripped the countertop as he slipped past her. She didn’t dare move until she heard the chime of the doorbell indicating he’d left the shop.
• • •
“I’m not talking to anyone, Roscoe,” Will barked into his cell phone. “I’ve got nothing to say.”
Roscoe sighed on the other end of the line. “We both know that’s a lie, Will. And they have ways of compelling you to talk.”
“You’re my agent, damn it. Can’t you do something? I don’t want to be involved in this.”
“Yeah, I’m guessing no one wants to be involved in this. Look, let me make a few discreet inquiries on your behalf. We need to find out what they’ve got so we can plan a strategy before this all blows up.”
Will paced the wide verandah, the breeze from the ocean ruffling his hair. Roscoe was right, they needed information. “Okay, sure. But discreet is the operative word here. I really don’t want to get dragged into this.”
“Your name’s already being mentioned, Will. I think now we’re looking at damage control.”
He wanted to throw the phone through a wall. It was guilt by association, just as Brody had feared. After seven years in the pros with a sterling reputation, he was going to be tarnished by someone else’s mistake.
“How are things going down there?” Roscoe asked. “Are you and your baby mama getting along?”
Will flinched at Roscoe’s nickname for Julianne. His agent had been opposed to the marriage, believing it would leave his client more exposed to potential financial claims. Roscoe would blow a gasket if he knew Julianne no longer had an income coming in from her company.
He peered in the kitchen window. Julianne stood on a step stool, reaching into one of the cabinets for something. Her long shirt wrapped around her body, accentuating her fine backside. She was having a conversation with Owen, who was strapped into his swing, seemingly chattering back to her. The kitchen was, not surprisingly, a mess. Julianne was a one-woman wrecking crew who’d in two weeks destroyed his neat, orderly home. She stepped from the stool, her bare feet padding across the room, and began mashing bananas in a bowl. Will licked his lips as her pink tank top showed off her well-toned arms to perfection. Her hair was done up in a messy knot but one strand came loose, forcing her to blow on it to keep it out of her face. The action was so sensual, Will was hard in an instant. Knowing that he was married to the woman but couldn’t act on it made him angry.
“She’s a mess,” he growled into the phone. “And freaking moody. It’s like living with a bipolar tropical storm.”
Roscoe laughed. “It isn’t any easier to live with a woman when you’re crazy in love with them, either. It’s only temporary. Hurricane Julianne will be out of your house in a couple of months. The separation papers take effect the week before training camp. I should have the custody details worked out by then, too.”
Will leaned up against one of the columns and watched as Julianne laughed at Owen, suddenly uncomfortable that this would be over so soon. This morning, in the gym, when she’d touched him, pretending they were a happy family, he’d wanted nothing more than for it to be real. But that meant trusting her and Will wasn’t ready to take that leap.
“I don’t think it’ll be a problem working out custody. Julianne’s been reasonable so far.”