“They both will,” Will muttered.
“Hank invited me to dinner tonight. He’s here with his daughter. Something about her selling some handmade jewelry in town this weekend. Anyway, he wanted me to invite your family to join us. Although I think it might be more summons than invitation.”
“Not happening.”
“Dude, think about it; how much can he grill you with his daughter and your wife and kid at the table?”
“No. Besides, I have the perfect excuse. Owen is too young to be out in public yet. Not after being so sick. You’ll just have to tell him we can’t make dinner.”
“Tell who we can’t make dinner?” Julianne asked as she appeared in the doorway. She handed a drooling Owen to Will and went to wash her hands.
“No one.” Will replied.
“Hank Osbourne, the GM,” Brody said at the same time.
“Oh, the man whose house we were . . . married at?” Julianne began preparing a bottle for Owen. “I thought I saw him in town this morning.”
“You what?” Will knew Hank would see that wheedling information out of Julianne was useless. The GM was aware of the circumstances of their marriage, after all. But he didn’t want Hank filling her head with all the rumors surrounding the allegations.
Julianne stared at him. “He was out walking in town after I left you two at the gym. He didn’t see me, though; he looked like he was on a mission.” She smiled to herself, one of those I’ve-got-a-secret smiles that always made him nervous when he saw one on a woman. “What’s so horrible about going out to dinner with him?”
“He wants the three of us to go with him and his daughter. Owen could be exposed to too much in a public restaurant. It’s too risky.”
“You’ve got a point.” She shook up the bottle.
Will smiled smugly at Brody as if to say, She bought it hook, line, and sinker.
“So we should invite them here for dinner. You, too, Brody. And Annabeth, of course.”
It was Brody’s turn to smile at her words. Gotcha, his grin proclaimed.
“No!”
“Why not?” Julianne fisted her hands on her hips. “I’m a very good cook. And I love dinner parties.”
“You don’t cook for other people, remember?” Will arched an eyebrow at her.
“No,” she reminded him. “I clarified this before, I don’t cook for you. But for tonight, I’m willing to make an exception and let you eat with the grown-ups.”
Will shoved Owen into Brody’s arms. “Here, keep him busy for a moment.” He grabbed Julianne by the wrist and pulled her into the large pantry, slamming the door behind him.
“We are not having a dinner party here, Princess.”
Julianne surveyed the shelves. “Well, not with what you have here. I’ll need to make you a grocery list. We can have caprese tomatoes, chicken marsala, Caesar salad, and maybe a fruit torte for dessert. You’ll have to do the shopping, because I need to give Owen a bath if we’re having company.”
Will pinched the bridge of his nose. She had to be the most infuriatingly bullheaded woman.
“Will, it’s part of the charade. I’m the dutiful wife, we’re the happy family. Don’t you see?”
He stared at her, totally baffled by her thought process. “Hank knows we’re not an actual couple. We don’t have to pretend anything in front of him.”
Julianne muttered in Italian. “Not for him, for whomever else in this town it was so important you impress. Hank is your boss. He’s visiting. They’d think it would be odd if you didn’t invite him. People have already noticed him in town.”
Will pressed his hands to his head and squeezed. She was right. Likely everyone was already trying to glad-hand it with Hank. They’d assume the two would show up together somewhere. “Look, Julianne, Hank is not in town to socialize. He’s here because there’s some stuff going on.”
“Stuff? That’s the best you can come up with using that overloaded brain of yours?”
His jaw was clenched so hard he could barely get the words out. “Football stuff. Xs and Os. Stuff you wouldn’t be interested in and that doesn’t require a dinner party to discuss. I’ll have lunch with him tomorrow at the marina. That should be a public enough place to satisfy everyone. You included.”
“Huh.” Julianne pulled her hair down from her messy knot, shaking her head out to free it. “I didn’t get the impression he was in town to discuss football stuff.”
Will was fixated on the flow of her hair and the shimmy of her breasts as she shook her silky tresses out. It took him a moment to comprehend what she was saying. He crossed his arms in front of his chest. “And you know this, how?”