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Foolish Games(65)

By:Tracy Solheim


Julianne’s cell phone buzzed in its charger. Her phone had rung twice already this morning and it was barely nine o’clock. Will handed Owen a mini Blaze football. The baby’s hands immediately clamped around it, his long-fingered hold sparking a burst of pride in Will before Owen brought it up to his mouth and began gumming it.

With Owen now occupied, he meandered over to where Julianne’s phone sat on the desk. He told himself he wasn’t snooping, just curious about whether he should alert her that she had messages. This was the problem with their not having talked. Will was fairly certain he knew all her secrets—surely she couldn’t have more—but her brother was still a major player in Bountygate, and Roscoe’s warnings about not trusting her played like a highlight reel in the back of his mind.

Two missed calls and one text message from her brother. His whole body tensed. The shower was still running upstairs. Damn it! If he didn’t check, Roscoe’s voice would poison every interaction he and Julianne had today, including the sexy one he’d been planning for the boathouse later on. If she had something to hide, she’d keep her phone locked or out of sight. With one finger, he slid the keypad open and read the text from her brother.

Call me. You haven’t checked in for two days. I need to know what’s going on with Will. How’s the baby?

A bead of sweat ran down his back. She was checking in with her brother daily? He didn’t get the impression they were that close. And she was giving her brother updates? On him? No! Will wasn’t going to let Roscoe’s paranoia get to him. He needed to trust Julianne. And not just because he was beginning to need Julianne.

“Dude, are you just gonna let that kid gum that football to death?”

Will jumped at the sound of Brody’s voice, nearly flinging Julianne’s phone onto the tile floor.

“Jesus, Janik, have you ever heard of knocking?” Will gently placed the phone back in its spot.

“I didn’t have to knock. I saw you from the verandah so I knew you were home.”

“What are you, a freakin’ peeping Tom?” Will needed a punching bag to take out his anger on, and Brody had arrived uninvited. “What if my wife were walking around naked in here?”

A slow grin spread over Brody’s face, further stoking Will’s anger.

“So it’s now that kind of marriage, huh?”

Will still wasn’t sure what kind of marriage he had, but he wasn’t discussing it with Brody. He lunged across the kitchen at him, but the agile tight end, adept at avoiding linebackers in pursuit, danced out of his way.

“Dude, I brought breakfast!” He shook a white paper sack from the Queen of Hearts Bakery in front of Owen’s face. The baby squealed in delight. “Do you want a scone, little dude?”

“Give me that!” Will snatched the bag from Brody, his stomach rumbling as the scent of fresh blueberry scones wafted out of the bag. “You’ve done your good deed for the day, now get out.”

Brody turned one of the kitchen chairs around and straddled it, tickling Owen’s bare feet as he sat in front of the baby. “No can do. Roscoe told me I couldn’t leave until I physically saw you call him. Seriously, that guy’s a pain in the a . . . keester.” He winked at Owen. “I may have to look for other representation if he keeps using me as his tool.”

Roscoe was getting desperate if he was resorting to forcing his other clients to do his bidding. Not that Brody had to be forced to butt into Will’s business. He’d seemed to make a career of it. Will pulled out his cell phone and texted his agent, telling him he’d call him when he was damn well ready.

“Done.” He shoved the phone back into the pocket of his shorts. “Now, you can go.”

“Jeesh, your daddy is grouchy in the morning,” Brody said to the baby.

Will rubbed the back of his neck. “Look, Brody, you were right the other day. This . . . thing could get a little ugly before it gets resolved. While I appreciate your lapdog determination—”

“Hey!”

“—you’ve got a good career going and I don’t want it to get tarnished by a bunch of gossips who want to take down a good coach.”

Brody looked him in stony silence.

“Really, Brody. For yourself and the team, you need to distance yourself from me right now. Get out of here. Go back to Baltimore. And please, take Hank Osbourne with you.”

Brody chuckled. “Sorry, dude, but the Wizard of Oz is pursuing his own agenda here in town. I have no pull with him. But I am leaving today, and it has nothing to do with you bossing me around.”

Will was relieved, and not just because Brody was always underfoot. He’d meant what he said about protecting his teammate’s career and the reputation of the Blaze. “When’s your flight?”