“She wasn’t a porn star. She made independent films.”

Will took a bite of his sandwich and arched an eyebrow at Brody. “Don’t give me the story you tell your mother.”

Brody crashed at Will’s apartment only when one of his four older sisters visited, which was often. They were constantly trying to fix him up with their friends, often forcing the tight end to seek refuge in space containing less estrogen. Why he crossed the line of scrimmage and picked Will, a defensive player, to be his mentor was still a mystery. Despite Will’s attempts to shake him, Brody had latched onto him during his rookie season and hadn’t let go.

Brody guzzled the rest of his orange juice. Will sensed the tight end was stalling. Unlike most of the world, Will never underestimated the man seated in front of him. Brody took great pains to portray himself as the immature jock who thought nothing of using his good looks and perfect smile to get ahead in the world. But behind those lazy blue eyes was a shrewd twenty-five-year-old who wasn’t always successful at hiding his brain beneath his brawn. Even his clothes, cargo shorts and neatly ironed T-shirt, looked haphazardly thrown together, but Will knew that a consultant, probably one of his sisters, had likely pulled the pieces into an outfit. Brody also was aware of his place in the hierarchy of the team. Despite being a marquee player, he would never show up unannounced at a more senior player’s home without a very good reason.

“There’s been talk in the clubhouse.” Brody flipped the bottle cap between his long fingers, but his eyes never left Will’s face. Despite the fact it was the off-season, many of the Blaze players remained in town for Organized Team Activities, which consisted of optional twice-weekly conditioning sessions. The OTAs not only helped the players stay in shape, but they kept the esprit de corps among the team.

“There’s always talk. I imagine there’s more gossiping done in an NFL clubhouse than in a ladies’ room.”

“Yeah, well, everyone’s getting a little antsy about this investigation into your old coach and whether some of the dirt will rub off onto our team.”

Will took another swallow of coffee. One good thing about the previous day’s baby ambush—he’d completely forgotten about the witch hunt surrounding his former coach. Several players had filed lawsuits against coaches in the league alleging injuries they received were the result of players receiving cash payments for inflicting punishing hits. Coaches had instituted a bounty scheme to remove certain players from the game, these players claimed. And the coach named at the top of the list: Paul Zevalos, Will’s former head coach. As could be expected, Congress couldn’t pass up a chance to get involved in something other than the tedium of running the country, and Senate committees were already investigating the matter. Will nearly snorted in disgust.

“You were down in D.C. on Capitol Hill yesterday, Connelly. All day. That’s pretty serious.”

It had been serious, but not for the reasons his teammates thought. The story was going to get out soon, today probably, and Will needed to get things finalized. “Tell the boys not to worry. The stink from the Zevalos investigation will never reach Baltimore because there’s nothing there.”

“A senator asking questions usually means there’s something to the story.”

Will drained the coffee from his mug before rinsing it out and loading it into the dishwasher. He pulled a sanitized wipe out of a carton and cleaned up the crumbs from his sandwich and Brody’s sprinkles. “The meeting wasn’t about Zevalos.”

Walking toward the door, Will picked up his wallet and keys from a basket on a table in the entryway. Brody trailed after him. “Then what was the meeting about?”

“A baby.” Will pulled the bobblehead key chain out of his pocket. “My baby.” He watched as Brody’s jaw dropped before Will tossed him the key. “Here. Keep these. You can use the loft whenever you want. It seems I’m gonna need a bigger place.”

* * *

Owen looked much better than he had the day before. His skin was pinker and his breathing less labored. The baby had even treated Will to his one-eyed stare when he’d held him earlier. Dr. Ling pronounced Owen totally cured, and Will felt an overwhelming sense of pride at having been able to save his baby’s life. The feeling was so surreal, he couldn’t quite wrap his head around it. Winning the Super Bowl a few months ago hadn’t felt this good.

He was still riding that crest of emotion when he sat down with Julianne later that morning. They’d ventured out to one of the courtyards outside the hospital to talk undisturbed. Will stared at her as she reclined in a deck chair, eyes closed, the spring sun shining down on her face. Perhaps she’d gotten some sleep last night or maybe it was the relief that Owen was going to be okay, but she looked less weary today. Less fragile. She was dressed more like the fashion icon that she was with tight gray pants, clunky black boots, and a pink V-neck sweater that tied in a bow at one side. Her hair was done up in a messy knot and she’d forsaken the glasses for contacts. Inky black lashes fanned out against her cheeks and her lips were glossed to a high sheen. Will shifted in his chair as he reminded himself that the sultry woman in front of him was the same one who’d tried to steal his child.

“So I guess this is when we get down to the nitty-gritty,” she said without preamble, eyes still closed.

“It’s a conversation long overdue, don’t you think?”

She opened one eye and squinted at him much as Owen had done earlier. Somehow, the look was a lot sexier on her. Releasing a breathy sigh, she sat up and leaned her elbows on the table, giving him an excellent view of the silver cross and the breasts it was dangling between. “Look, this situation is awkward enough. Can we start fresh today and figure out how to make this work with Owen’s best interest in mind?”

Will arched an eyebrow at her. “You want me to just forget you tried to hide my son from me?”

Julianne sat back in the chair, wrapping her arms around her. “No, but I want you to move on from there because, at the time, I thought I was making the best choices for myself and the baby.”

His jaw was clenched so tight, he was surprised he could get any words out. “But the hell with me, right? I’m just some dumb jock who could give a rat’s ass about how many kids I father, is that it?”

“No!” She grabbed the cross around her neck and began to fiddle with it. “I didn’t even know you! When I found out I was pregnant, I was shocked, but I wasn’t going to give him up. I had the money to support a child.”

“I wouldn’t have made you give him up! And you should have stuck around the morning after to at least exchange names, given that the condom broke.”

“Oh.” She bit her lip. “I thought it was just my migraine medicine that made my birth control ineffective. I don’t remember the condom breaking.”

“It was at a pretty pivotal part of the evening, Princess.”

“My medicine makes me a little woozy, so I don’t really remember the evening that much.”

“You don’t remember?” Jesus! The best sex of his life and she’d been stoned?

She didn’t meet his eyes, giving him a little shrug instead. Will felt like his head was going to explode. He closed his eyes and tried in vain to sort out his feelings. Her story was plausible, but he still didn’t trust her. He didn’t want to trust her. Well, at least most of his body didn’t want to.

“Now do you see why we should just start from today and move forward?” She posed the question softly. “Our lives are going to be forever entwined with Owen’s. It would be a lot easier if we could at least get along. For his sake.”

Will rubbed his hands down his face. “You’re not taking him to Italy.” He’d compromise if he had to, but not on that. “You’ll have to tell your clients you’re working from the U.S. until we can arrange something.”

“Not a problem. I’ve . . . I’ve put my work on hold for now. I need to concentrate on Owen.” Her statement surprised him. When he’d Googled her the night before, Will had discovered that Julianne was a rising star in the very competitive design industry. She’d been right when she said she could easily support a child, but what effect would a prolonged absence have on her career? Begrudgingly, he had to admire her devotion to Owen; he only wished that dedication to do what was best for her son had included allowing his father in his life long before the baby’s illness forced her to.

“Owen is just a tiny baby,” she said. “He needs his mother right now. I can get a place here in D.C. or closer to you in Baltimore. You can see him every day. But I can’t be separated from him. Not after I almost lost him.”

Will leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. He had no intention of keeping her from Owen. She was right, the baby needed her. Hell, he didn’t even know how to feed him, much less change a diaper. But in three months he’d be back playing football, and that meant he’d have little time to care for Owen. He needed to bond with him now, to let his son know he wasn’t a fatherless kid who’d be looked on disdainfully by everyone else. Like Julianne, he didn’t want to be apart from his baby right now.

Julianne’s tone became more urgent at his silence. “Please, I’ll agree to joint custody; we’ll live wherever you want us to. I’ll do whatever you want, Will.” The last part came out as a strangled whisper.

He opened his eyes and considered her for a moment. “My place in Baltimore is small and in the heart of the city. The only other home I own is in coastal North Carolina. I planned to spend a couple of weeks or so there during the summer, but I can go now. It’s a big house and the sunshine and sea air will be good for Owen.”

“We’d all live in the same house? Near the ocean?”

Jesus, was she already backpedaling? “A minute ago you said you’d do anything, live anywhere. Was that just lip service, Princess?”

“I meant it! It’s just that babies cry and don’t sleep through the night. Caring for a baby is twenty-four-seven. You need to be sure you know what you’re getting into. You might want some space.”

“I have three months until training camp begins and the season starts up again. Right now I have nothing but time on my hands.” Not exactly true—he had obligations during the off-season—but he wasn’t going to let her martyr herself by putting her career on hold and have it bite him in the ass later on. “You’re not the only one who wants to bond with Owen. And, like I said, it’s a big house. Plenty of room for you, Owen, and me.” He didn’t bother mentioning his mother lived there, too.

Damn, he’d forgotten to call his mother. He needed to before she heard about this from somewhere else.

Annabeth Connelly insisted on living in the small town where she’d grown up on the poor side of the tracks, the same place she’d raised Will. If she ever felt the same contempt for the townspeople who’d treated them with such disdain, she never showed it. Will spent as little time there as possible, going back only when Chase or Gavin were in town. But Gavin was living there indefinitely, sorting out his father’s business after his death of a heart attack, and Will found himself in Chances Inlet more frequently lately.

“Okay.” Julianne wasn’t successful in hiding the reluctance in her voice. But to her credit, she brooked no argument. “As soon as Dr. Ling says Owen can be released, we’ll go to your home.”

Will could only imagine what a homecoming it would be. The locals didn’t have a problem sucking up to him now that he was a famous, rich football player. But he could already hear the whispers once he arrived with his bastard son and his baby mama in tow. They’d say he’d turned out just as they expected, except, perhaps, wealthier. He suppressed a shudder just thinking about his childhood spent longing for a normal family dynamic of two parents who were married to each other.

Hell, he wondered, does that dynamic even exist anymore?

Long ago, he’d made a promise to himself that any child of his would have that one thing he wanted most of all: legitimacy. Despite his best efforts, he’d failed his son. Not that it was too late. He rubbed a hand over his forehead, trying to scrub that ridiculous thought from his mind as he glanced over at the woman who’d borne him a son. Julianne was babbling on about all the things they’d need for the baby, her previous trepidation suddenly diminished by thoughts of shopping. In that respect, she was just like any other woman. He held a hand up to quiet her. “Just give me a list. I’ll have it taken care of before we get there.”