Foolish Games(57)

Julianne gestured to the nursery. “Owen’s down for the night; I need to stay here. How about you, Annabeth?” Her smile held a challenge in it.

Annabeth wasn’t sure she was being wise, but there was something about Hank Osbourne that she wanted to explore. Perhaps, if she kept their encounters light, they could be friends. He was Will’s employer, after all. And Sophie’s father. She enjoyed knowing his daughter and wanted to keep that relationship intact.

“I think that sounds lovely.” Decision made, she linked arms with Sophie and headed out the door.





Eighteen





Julianne put her hand on her back and stretched. “That’s the one thing about cooking that I don’t enjoy: cleaning up.”

Will harrumphed as he stacked the frying pan in the cabinet. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

Their guests had left nearly an hour ago, Brody leading the way to the small ice cream stand that was sure to be packed with holiday weekend tourists. She and Will had just conquered the mountain of dishes left behind.

“You know what they say: A messy kitchen is a happy kitchen.”

Will wiped the counters down. “This kitchen was pretty happy the way it was.”

“Hey, at least your house looks like somebody lives in it now.”

Will glanced around the first floor, a pained look on his face. “Yes, yes it does.”

Julianne stuck her tongue out at him. “Tell me the truth. Did you stay around to help me clean up because you really can’t stand to have your space out of order? Or was it because you wanted to be able to watch out the window to see when your mom gets home?”

Will draped a dish towel around the back of her neck and pulled her body into contact with his. “Or, option three, I wanted to be with you.”

His voice was a low rumble underneath her hands on his chest, and Julianne shivered. They hadn’t been alone since this afternoon, when clearly their relationship had hit a turning point.

“Option three works,” she whispered.

Will touched his forehead to hers. “We need to talk through a few things, Julianne.”

“Yeah.”

Will’s cell phone vibrated on the counter. Keeping his eyes locked with hers, he picked it up and answered brusquely.

“Roscoe, can’t this wait until tomorrow?”

He stepped away from her. Apparently, whatever it was couldn’t wait.

Will placed his thumb over the phone’s mouthpiece and sighed. “I’ve got to take this. You should probably get some sleep, anyway, while the baby is sleeping. We can talk tomorrow.”

His face looked strained, as if he wanted to do anything else but take this call. Julianne wanted to reach out and offer him comfort, but they weren’t there yet in their relationship. She felt they were getting closer, but she didn’t want to overstep the invisible boundaries that still kept them apart.

Julianne nodded, and Will disappeared into his study. As she climbed the stairs, she could hear Will’s angry voice as he argued with his agent. She checked on Owen before changing into a pair of sleep shorts and a tank top and climbing into bed.

But she was too keyed up to sleep. Instead, she crawled into the big chair under the dormer and pulled out the sketch she’d begun for Brody’s sister. Half an hour later, the gown was nearly complete; a few notes on the embellishments still needed to be added, but Julianne was pleased and relieved at the finished product.

A sound from the nursery alerted her to the fact that Will was checking on Owen. She heard his footsteps hesitate in front of the door to her adjoining room, before he left the nursery and moved down the hall to his own room. Julianne knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep if they didn’t finish what they’d started in the kitchen earlier. She just didn’t know if she had the nerve to make the first move. Maybe when Owen woke for his two A.M. feeding, he’d join her in the kitchen and they could have one of their quiet chats.

“Ah, the heck with it!” Julianne couldn’t wait another four hours to make her last confession to Will. She needed to do it now while she had the nerve.

His door was closed and she knocked softly, but there was no response. The shower was running in the distance. She debated whether to go in, but she’d come this far, so she forced herself to turn the doorknob and go inside.

Will’s bedroom was decorated in much the same style as the room Julianne was occupying, with one exception; the room featured a massive king-sized bed. The bed was situated in front of two sets of French doors leading out to the balcony overlooking the Atlantic. Fortunately, the sound of the shower drowned out most of the roar of the ocean. The door to Will’s bathroom was open, and steam wafted into the room.