Part 12 (1/2)

Shay had no idea what the two of them were talking about, but it was rea.s.suring to know that for once in her life she had a team.

”Shoo, Brody. Go catch your bus.” Julianne waved him toward the door.

He hesitated a moment, stepping toward Shay as if he was going to kiss her again, before thinking better of it. With a swift nod, Brody hurried out of the commissary.

”Yay, can we go shopping now?” Another teenager had joined Emma at the table. Dressed in animal-print pants and a daring white sweater, the older girl also had a dramatic slash of blue through her blond hair.

”It seems I've recruited two a.s.sistants,” Julianne explained. ”I've been dressing Emma since she was three, and her fas.h.i.+on sense is impeccable. Sophie is my sister-in-law, and don't let her blue hair fool you, she has an exquisite eye for the artistic touches we're going to need to make you s.h.i.+ne.”

”Hey there,” Sophie said with a wave.

Sophie helped Emma pack up her books as Shay studied the woman next to her. Julianne was married to Blaze linebacker Will Connelly, a most unlikely combination if she ever saw one. According to what she'd read on Internet celebrity blogs, the two had conceived a son together and married quickly after the baby was born. Most predicted the marriage wouldn't last, but the few times Shay had seen the couple, they looked very much in love. She wasn't sure why the famous designer had agreed to help Brody, but Shay was grateful nonetheless.

”Thank you for helping me. And Brody. I hope it's not too much of an imposition.”

Julianne gave her another one of those I've-got-a-secret smiles, her eyes once again a.s.sessing Shay from head to toe.

”It's not an imposition,” she finally said. ”I'd do anything for Brody.”

So would I.

It wasn't until Shay saw the other woman's arched eyebrow and beaming face that she realized she'd said it aloud.

The winds off Lake Erie were icy as the rain pummeled Cleveland's FirstEnergy stadium. It was only the first week of October, but winter had already come calling in the Great Lakes region. The sloppy field made for an even sloppier game. It was the end of the third quarter and the Blaze were up nine to three. For an offensive player, there was nothing worse than having the game decided by the defense and the kickers.

Brody sat on the heated metal bench, a heavy poncho draped over his shoulders during the five-minute television time-out between quarters. A hiss of steam rose up off the bench as Will Connelly sat down next to him, his uniform drenched in mud, sweat, and rain. He shook his head, showering Brody in the process.

”Dude,” Brody complained. ”Ever heard of a towel?”

Connelly shot him one of his menacing looks before grabbing a warm towel from a bag hauled around by one of the equipment boys who marched up and down behind the bench. ”You're such a pretty boy, Brody,” he said as he scrubbed at his face. ”And I told you not to speak to me again.”

Brody scoffed. ”Jeez, dude, you'd think I asked you to cut something off. As favors go, mine was pretty painless.”

”Painless?” Will glared at him. ”Because of your stupid favor, I did have something cut off: s.e.x with my wife. And that was a dirty move involving Julianne in your little scheme.”

”Would you have put the catalog in your locker if I hadn't?”

”h.e.l.l no! But thanks to you convincing my wife to hold out on me until I put that stupid thing out there, now I've got to listen to a bunch of s.h.i.+t from my teammates.”

Brody shrugged. Of all the players on the Blaze, he knew Connelly could easily take a little heat within the locker room. The linebacker had been through much worse just a few months before. Besides, no one on the team would challenge Will Connelly on his toughness. It was his sense of fair play that Brody was counting on.

Connelly chugged down a cup of Gatorade. ”What I don't understand is why this whole blogger thing has got your jockstrap all tangled. Your love life has been played out in the media for years and it never seemed to bother you.”

Shows what you know, Mr. Ivy League, Brody thought. But he kept his thoughts to himself.

”It's the girl, isn't it,” Connelly probed. ”This is about Shay.”

Brody kept his eyes on the game clock above the opposite sideline. Sixty seconds left in the time-out.

”h.e.l.l, Brody, I told you not to hurt that girl.”

”What do you think I'm trying to avoid here,” Brody snarled, aware too late that he'd given Will the information he wanted.

Forty-five seconds left. Connelly nodded finally. ”Good, see that she stays that way.”

”Go play in the mud and try to keep them from scoring.”

Connelly hefted his helmet back on his head before slapping Brody on the back. ”Stay dry, pretty boy. I did your favor and now I'm going to win this game. After that, I'm going home to my warm, welcoming wife.”

Brody grimaced.

”You can take your catalog home as a consolation prize,” he called as he trotted back onto the field.

Thirteen.

Shay felt as though she were having a total out-of-body experience. Standing in the large parlor of the quaint New England inn surrounded by Brody's family and their closest friends, she felt like an imposter. Julianne had had her plucked, waxed, and dyed until she hardly recognized the attractive woman staring back at her from the antique beveled mirror hanging above the roaring fire in the stone fireplace.

Carefully clutching her winegla.s.s so that none of the rich cabernet spilled on the winter-white silk pants Julianne had picked out for her, Shay tried to listen to the boisterous conversation between Brody's sisters. The four women hadn't let her out of their sight since she'd arrived in Vermont earlier in the day.

”So what other stories can we tell you about our darling little brother?” Bridgett linked her arm through Shay's, her smile mischievous. She wasn't sure if the lawyer totally bought into the charade that she and Brody were actually a couple, but his sister was being a good sport and playing along anyway.

”Bridge,” Tricia, the bride-to-be, said. ”Maybe we should lay off the tales for a while, before poor Shay runs screaming into the woods. Besides, this weekend is supposed to be about me, remember? Brody gets his time in the limelight every other weekend.” The twinkle in her blue eyes belied her fake pout and it was easy to see that, despite their unrelenting teasing, the Janik sisters were truly smitten with their younger brother. The problem was, they weren't the only ones.

Ever since their heated exchange in the Blaze commissary the previous Sat.u.r.day, Shay had played least in sight, leaving his meals at his house while he was at practice, thus avoiding Brody all week. They'd exchanged a few text messages about the logistics of the weekend, with Brody flying up separately yesterday so he could work out with his personal trainer and Shay traveling with Julianne and Will Connelly this afternoon, arriving just in time for the rehearsal dinner. Shay wasn't sure, but she thought Julianne had orchestrated their late arrival to achieve some sort of dramatic reveal of her total transformation to Brody. But the fas.h.i.+on designer was unaware that it didn't matter what Shay looked like, nothing was going to happen between her and Brody.

Because her plan had failed.

A fresh wave of disappointment squeezed her stomach at the thought. She'd been so sure the blogger would bite. Only they hadn't. And she and Brody were no further along on their trust issues than they had been a week ago.

Julianne had come clean at the salon the day before, telling Shay her husband had placed the catalog in full view of the locker room in Cleveland. Without her confession, Shay never would have agreed to have her hair highlighted and straightened. But knowing Brody had gone through with his end of the bargain, there was nothing left to do but honor her part-even if it killed her to be so close to him all weekend.

The intense desire that seemed to overtake her whenever she laid eyes on Brody mystified her. Even more surprising: he seemed to feel the same way. Shay wasn't delusional enough to think Brody Janik wanted her in the same way he wanted other women. She still believed his interest was based on the fact she hadn't stripped naked the minute he looked her way. The problem was she didn't care anymore.

After this semester, her life wouldn't be her own; not for a while, anyway. Girls like Shay didn't get chances with guys like Brody. She needed to take hers while she could. If only the blogger had exonerated her by reporting on the s.e.x toys.

Julianne was talking animatedly about Tricia's wedding gown when the skin at the back of Shay's neck began to tingle. She looked toward the doorway to see Brody standing among a throng of men-presumably the groomsmen-who'd been out golfing on the Indian summer afternoon. The caress of his gaze brought a flush to her cheeks. Dressed in black slacks, a tweed sports jacket, and a crisp white s.h.i.+rt open at the neck, he was a devastating sight. He slowly made his way across the room, stopping to greet everyone in his path. It was all she could do not to reach up and run her fingers through his damp hair as he stopped beside her. The smile he greeted her with was warm, if not a little chagrined, and the churning in her belly twisted into a painful ache.

Introductions were made as the rest of the wedding guests joined their circle, but Shay had difficulty concentrating. Her senses drank in not only the sight of Brody, but his clean woodsy scent as well. Feeling a little lightheaded in the now crowded parlor, she released a soft breath. Brody's hand was on her elbow immediately, but his touch caused her to sway on her feet. Tossing one of his most charming smiles over his shoulder, he quickly culled her from the herd, steering toward the butler's pantry that joined the parlor with one of the large dining rooms in the inn.

Shay set her gla.s.s down on the counter and ran her fingers through her hair. The silky, straight locks confused her, making her feel more out of place, and she felt tears pooling in her eyes.

”Deep breath,” Brody whispered. ”You can do this.”

”Not if you keep touching me.”