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Authors: Tracy Solheim
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nearly a year. If she told Stephen that, he’d have a coronary. “I have Mom’s paintings. I could sell them if I needed to.”
Stephen’s face grew redder, if that were possible. “Your mom’s paintings? Are you kidding me?”
She never understood Stephen’s attitude about her mother’s art creations. “Nicky and I think they could sell for quite a lot.”
“You and Nicky? You two are the only ones who’d buy them!” Her brother’s voice was so loud, she was surprised security hadn’t come to investigate.
“Daria’s oil paintings are fantastic and incredibly unique. A knowledgeable collector might pay a great deal for them.” Finally, Nicky said something that made sense.
Stephen directed a frosty look at the priest. “You would say that.” He turned back to Sebastian. “As long as Owen is taken care of under this agreement, you can let her sign it. My sister is going to do what she wants. She always has.” He stood to leave.
“As long as your nephew becomes legitimate, you mean!” She and Stephen had never been close, but his contempt was more than she could emotionally handle tonight. “Heaven forbid my life interferes with your campaign!”
“For God’s sake, Julianne!” Stephen’s rant had Nicky clearing his throat. “This isn’t about me. It’s never about me. You’re my sister and I want to see you protected. Taken care of. Except you won’t let anybody do that for you. You make it impossible. I only hope Will Connelly knows what he’s getting himself into.” He pushed out a heavy breath before he leaned down to kiss her on the forehead. “Are you coming back to the town house tonight? Faith and the kids are there. They wanted to be here for your wedding.”
Julianne’s stomach clenched. She didn’t want Stephen’s family at the wedding. Truth be told, she didn’t want anyone to witness the ceremony. Especially her niece and nephew, who were too young to understand it wasn’t real. But Stephen was her half brother, one who obviously had finally decided to take his role seriously. So she kept her protests to herself. She was all in now, and there was no stopping.
She shook her head. “I’ll probably get there after everyone’s asleep. I want to feed Owen again tonight.”
He looked like he wanted to say more. Instead he nodded at Sebastian and Nicky and headed out the door.
Just as she had the day before, Julianne put a shaking hand to paper and signed the prenuptial agreement. It was the first step; in a few days, she’d be married to Will Connelly.
Seven
It should have been a simple thing, getting married. Theirs was to be a marriage based strictly on a business arrangement, a perfunctory step to legitimize Owen. When the words had shot out of his mouth at the hospital the other day, the idea made perfect sense. They could rusticate in North Carolina and no one in town would dare question Owen’s legitimacy. Problem solved. All that was needed was a license and the brief utterance of a few select pro forma words to make the whole thing legal. No flowers, no music, no cake, no
wedding
and all the inane crap that went with one. Easy.
Instead, the process took two full days to pull off. Two days in which everyone had equal opportunity to throw their two cents at Will. Starting with his mother.
“Are you sure about this, Will?”
The question, posed in his mother’s soft, unassuming Southern drawl, had begun to burn a hole in the side of his head, he’d heard it so many times in the past forty-eight hours. Teammates, his coach, Hank, Roscoe, and now his mother were all questioning his sanity with the same five-word refrain.
Was he sure about marrying Julianne Marchione?
Hell no!
But since she was his son’s mother, it was a necessary step.
“I’d think this would make you happy, Mom. Finally, there will be a marriage in the Connelly family.”
He hadn’t meant for his words to wound, but his mother’s mouth tightened ever so slightly as she clasped
Stephen’s face grew redder, if that were possible. “Your mom’s paintings? Are you kidding me?”
She never understood Stephen’s attitude about her mother’s art creations. “Nicky and I think they could sell for quite a lot.”
“You and Nicky? You two are the only ones who’d buy them!” Her brother’s voice was so loud, she was surprised security hadn’t come to investigate.
“Daria’s oil paintings are fantastic and incredibly unique. A knowledgeable collector might pay a great deal for them.” Finally, Nicky said something that made sense.
Stephen directed a frosty look at the priest. “You would say that.” He turned back to Sebastian. “As long as Owen is taken care of under this agreement, you can let her sign it. My sister is going to do what she wants. She always has.” He stood to leave.
“As long as your nephew becomes legitimate, you mean!” She and Stephen had never been close, but his contempt was more than she could emotionally handle tonight. “Heaven forbid my life interferes with your campaign!”
“For God’s sake, Julianne!” Stephen’s rant had Nicky clearing his throat. “This isn’t about me. It’s never about me. You’re my sister and I want to see you protected. Taken care of. Except you won’t let anybody do that for you. You make it impossible. I only hope Will Connelly knows what he’s getting himself into.” He pushed out a heavy breath before he leaned down to kiss her on the forehead. “Are you coming back to the town house tonight? Faith and the kids are there. They wanted to be here for your wedding.”
Julianne’s stomach clenched. She didn’t want Stephen’s family at the wedding. Truth be told, she didn’t want anyone to witness the ceremony. Especially her niece and nephew, who were too young to understand it wasn’t real. But Stephen was her half brother, one who obviously had finally decided to take his role seriously. So she kept her protests to herself. She was all in now, and there was no stopping.
She shook her head. “I’ll probably get there after everyone’s asleep. I want to feed Owen again tonight.”
He looked like he wanted to say more. Instead he nodded at Sebastian and Nicky and headed out the door.
Just as she had the day before, Julianne put a shaking hand to paper and signed the prenuptial agreement. It was the first step; in a few days, she’d be married to Will Connelly.
Seven
It should have been a simple thing, getting married. Theirs was to be a marriage based strictly on a business arrangement, a perfunctory step to legitimize Owen. When the words had shot out of his mouth at the hospital the other day, the idea made perfect sense. They could rusticate in North Carolina and no one in town would dare question Owen’s legitimacy. Problem solved. All that was needed was a license and the brief utterance of a few select pro forma words to make the whole thing legal. No flowers, no music, no cake, no
wedding
and all the inane crap that went with one. Easy.
Instead, the process took two full days to pull off. Two days in which everyone had equal opportunity to throw their two cents at Will. Starting with his mother.
“Are you sure about this, Will?”
The question, posed in his mother’s soft, unassuming Southern drawl, had begun to burn a hole in the side of his head, he’d heard it so many times in the past forty-eight hours. Teammates, his coach, Hank, Roscoe, and now his mother were all questioning his sanity with the same five-word refrain.
Was he sure about marrying Julianne Marchione?
Hell no!
But since she was his son’s mother, it was a necessary step.
“I’d think this would make you happy, Mom. Finally, there will be a marriage in the Connelly family.”
He hadn’t meant for his words to wound, but his mother’s mouth tightened ever so slightly as she clasped
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