Tracy Solheim - Foolish Games

Julianne choked back a sob. Her father had rejected her. Now Will had, too. Was she destined to be rejected by everyone she loved?

“I’m not defending his behavior, Julianne. Just explaining it. He was wrong to push you away. But I refuse to believe he did it out of hatred. At least not hatred toward you.”

“Of course he did,” Julianne cried. “He blames me for the accident and he hates me for it!”

Carly wrapped an arm around Julianne’s shoulder and pulled her into a hug. “Shh, it’s all right.”

“The accident wasn’t your fault, Julianne. If anything, your father blames himself for it, for demanding that your mother return home before she wanted to and for using you to make sure she did.”

Julianne’s head was swimming. Her memories of that night and the days preceding it had always been a jumble. The doctors and counselors told her it was better that way; it was the brain’s way of protecting her. The little snippets she did recall never made sense. But Nicky had been with them. It was time he filled in the blanks.

“Tell me,” she demanded.

Nicky sighed. “There really isn’t much to tell. Nothing sordid or dramatic. Your mother wanted to stay at the villa a few days longer than she’d planned so she could finish a painting. My parents weren’t returning to Rome for another week, so I didn’t mind. Plus, there were some teenagers in the villa next door who’d I’d been hanging out with. You were a little annoyed that I wasn’t paying attention to you and your father used that to his advantage. He never could stand to be apart from Daria for too long. I think he bribed you with a kitten if you’d beg your mother to go back to Rome.”

Julianne almost smiled at the memory. Once, her father had been a doting parent, but he’d slipped away just as quickly as her mother had slid into the Mediterranean Sea.

“Daria finally gave in. Neither of your parents could refuse you anything.” Nicky pierced her with his gaze but Julianne refused to feel guilty for being loved by her parents at one point in her life.

“The weather wasn’t cooperating, though, and I tried to persuade your mom to pull over and wait out the storm, but by that time, she was just as eager to see your father. When she wasn’t wrapped up creating her art, she was just as lovesick as he was.” The corners of his mouth turned up in a slow grin.

Julianne wrapped her arms around herself. She wanted that kind of relationship. And she wanted it with Will.

“The rest of that night was fate, Julianne. It was nobody’s fault. Not yours. Not your mother’s. Not your father’s.” Nicky’s tone was unyielding. “You can’t continue to blame yourself. Your father doesn’t blame you.”

“I still don’t know how you can be so certain. Or why you involved my father in the first place.”

“Because as Carly said, the paintings are all you have left of your mother. They should remain in the family. For you and for Owen.” Nicky’s voice softened. “It’s not that your father doesn’t want them—or you. He just didn’t know how to get past his grief. Perhaps this is his way of making amends.”

A tear slipped from Julianne’s eyes. She didn’t dare hope that her father would ever be a part of her life again. That ship had sailed long ago. But she would do anything for her son’s sake. Hadn’t that had been her mantra since discovering she was pregnant? She could take her father’s guilt money and rebuild her company. Then she would figure out how to get Will back because that was one ship she wasn’t going to let sail away.

“My mother would be delighted that her grandson owned her paintings,” she said through her tears.

“That settles it,” Carly said as she wiped her eyes. “You’re taking your father’s money whether you like it or not. The paintings stay in the family for Owen.”

“What happened to the reserved, well-mannered girl who used to be your best friend?” Nicky asked Julianne, a teasing glint in his eye.

“She married the devil of the NFL and now he’s gotten her with child. You might want to stick around in case we need an exorcism.”

* * *

Will sat in his car, his hands firmly gripping the wheel. He was sawing ragged breaths in and out in hopes of getting some control over his bruised heart. The senator said Julianne hadn’t snitched on Will. That she loved him. He’d raced over to the house she was staying in to have the talk they should have had weeks ago. Before the sex messed things up. To work on cultivating that seed of trust before everything was ruined for good. To salvage a marriage that she’d only agreed to for the sake of their son.

When no one had answered the door, he’d walked around the back of the house. Staring into the screened porch, he’d seen her with her friends, locked in an embrace. There are only two people she trusts, the senator had said.

These past months, Julianne had been forced down a path not of her own choosing. Starting with the night in Sea Island when he’d taken her to his bed. The consequences of that night were just as much his fault as they were hers. He could no longer blame her for trying to shield him from those consequences by keeping Owen a secret.

Julianne didn’t need a bastard from the Seaside Vista Trailer Park to complete her. She had her talent and her friends—who she’d turn to in a jam. Friends she obviously trusted more than him, not that he could blame her. If Will loved her, and he did, he couldn’t stand in her way any longer. She wouldn’t keep Owen from him. And Will wouldn’t trap her in a marriage she never wanted. Sure, she’d said she loved him, but he knew she’d say and do anything to protect her son.

He forced his hand to turn the key in the ignition and drove away.

“Julianne! Julianne!” Annabeth clamored through the house shouting.

Julianne, Carly, and Nicky rushed into the kitchen to find her gasping, tears running down her face.

“Annabeth, where have you been?” Julianne raced toward her mother-in-law, panicked by her distress. “I’ve been trying to call you since I got here yesterday.”

Carly pulled out a chair and Annabeth sat down, her face a mixture of smiles and tears.

“Well, we’ve been trying to call the two of you for the past hour,” Annabeth said.

Carly grabbed her purse off the table and pulled out her cell phone. “Ohmigosh! She’s right. Shane, too.” She yelped as she read the text message on the screen. “It’s over, Jules. The hearing never took place!”

Julianne looked from her friend to her mother-in-law. “Is this true? Will didn’t have to testify?”

Annabeth shook her head as her smile beamed. “Nope. He wasn’t even named by Coach Zevalos as one of the offenders. Will is totally cleared.”

Shaking with relief and joy, Julianne retrieved her own cell phone, desperately hoping for a message from Will. Her body sagged as she scanned the screen and saw only missed calls from Annabeth.

“Give him time,” Annabeth whispered as she came up beside her, draping an arm over her shoulder. “He needs to process everything first.”

Leaning a head on the older woman’s shoulder, Julianne pushed out a breath. She’d never been a very patient person, and giving Will time was killing her. Hopefully, though, when Will processed everything, he’d see she hadn’t meant to hurt him.

“You did something to make this happen, didn’t you?” Julianne asked.

“Nothing that I shouldn’t have done years ago,” Annabeth confessed. “But the less you know the better.”

Julianne smiled at her. “I’m just glad it worked out.”

“The rest of it is going to work out, too,” she reassured Julianne. “You’ll see.”

“You still haven’t answered my question, though. Where have you been?”

Annabeth’s face flushed beneath her broad smile.

Julianne actually laughed. “Never mind. Your face just told me everything I need to know.” She hugged her mother-in-law. “Good for you. At least one of us is happy.”

“Hey!” Carly clicked off her cell phone. “Shane says they’re having a big party at the training facility. Roscoe and Will are supposed to get there soon. Jules, let’s get Owen and bring him.”

A spasm of misery clenched in Julianne’s stomach. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. At least not for me to go.” She turned to Annabeth. “You should take Owen, though. Will would want to show his son off to his teammates.”

“Oh, no you don’t, Julianne.” Annabeth’s hands were on her hips. “There’s no chickening out anymore. You two are going to resolve this if I have to lock you both in a room together.”

“Oooo,” Carly chimed in. “I know the perfect room, too. Shane and I had a nice little talk in there once. It was very productive.” Her grin and rosy cheeks told Julianne that a lot more than talking went on between Carly and Shane in that room.

Annabeth rolled her eyes. “Carly, get the baby.”

Nicky excused himself, saying he had business in Washington. The two women somehow managed to get Owen packed up quickly, bundling him and Julianne into the car before she could protest. When they arrived at the facility, the celebration was in full swing. All that was missing was the guest of honor.

Shane greeted them at the door, hugging both Annabeth and Julianne before wrapping his wife up in his arms. “Hey there, Dorothy,” he murmured, using his favorite pet name for Carly before kissing her soundly. He pulled away a little reluctantly, their gazes still locked in a form of nonverbal communication that hinted of something more to come later.

Julianne bit her lip to keep from weeping out of sheer jealousy. She and Will had briefly had that.

Hank slipped an arm around Annabeth, and Julianne’s anguish gnawed a little harder in her belly. Everywhere she looked she saw happy people, happy couples. Coming here was a ridiculously bad idea. She turned to make her escape, but Brody blocked her way.

“Little dude,” he said, holding his arms out for Owen. “Come to Uncle Brody and I’ll introduce you to the guys.”

He had the baby out of her arms before she could stop him. Owen squealed with delight. Tears stung her eyes as she realized even her infant son was having a better time than she was.

“Julianne.”

She whipped around, and her heart leaped as she once again found herself peering past Roscoe in search of Will. But he was nowhere to be found. She pulled in a deep, calming breath, forcing her gaze back to Will’s agent.

“I owe you an apology,” Roscoe said, sheepishly. “It seems I jumped to some very wrong conclusions about you.”

Julianne was too stunned to reply.

“Your brother set Will straight today, though. And he, in turn, set me straight. The assumptions I made were totally off base. Even under the defense of protecting a client and friend. I sincerely apologize.”

Julianne hadn’t heard a word past the part about Stephen setting Will straight. “Stephen spoke to Will today?” she repeated.

“Thank goodness for miracles,” Annabeth said from somewhere behind Roscoe.

“Yeah.” Roscoe stepped back to include Annabeth, Hank, Carly, and Shane in the conversation. “Right after the hearing was canceled. He explained that you didn’t know anything about the hearing. You were simply defending Will, and your brother took advantage.” He looked around, confused. “Will didn’t tell you your brother spoke to him?”

“I haven’t seen Will.”

Julianne’s heart was pounding as if she’d raced up ten flights of stairs. Will knew the truth. Could this possibly mean they could start again? Her knees began to shake and she reached out a hand to steady herself on something. Brody appeared at her side, propping her up.

“Whoa. Are you okay?” he asked.

She was definitely not okay. Instead, she was a quivering mass of nerves as she searched the crowded room for any sign of her husband.

“Will didn’t bring you here?” Roscoe asked, a touch of concern in his voice.

“No,” Annabeth answered for her. “Carly and I brought her.”

“I don’t understand. I dropped Will off at his car an hour ago. He was on his way to talk to you.”

The bottom fell out of Julianne’s stomach, and she gripped more tightly onto Brody’s arm.

“We just left there,” Annabeth said, reaching for her cell phone. “Maybe we crossed paths.”

“No. Like I said, he would have been there almost an hour ago.” Roscoe pulled out his own phone.

But Will hadn’t come to the house. And suddenly, Julianne saw the situation through his eyes. Will was giving up without a fight, most likely figuring he wasn’t worthy of a relationship. She was familiar with his game plan because it had been her own rationale right up until a few weeks ago. Now, she realized true love was messy and worth fighting for. Fury replaced her anguish and Julianne ripped her arm off Brody’s, her weak legs suddenly strengthened by anger. The idiot Neanderthal was jumping to conclusions—again. This time, though, she wasn’t going to let him get away with it.