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 fashion 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 shine."

"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 fashion 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 shirt 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."

His hands had made their way beneath her cashmere sweater and he was slowly ma.s.saging her hips. Surprise registered on his face, almost as if his fingers had sought out her bare skin subconsciously. Pulling his hands out, he reached for her winegla.s.s and guzzled its contents. Shay couldn't summon the strength to admonish him.

"I'm sorry your plan didn't work. I really wanted it to." He placed the empty winegla.s.s back on the counter.

That makes two of us.

"Thank you for coming anyway."

Shay shrugged one shoulder. "Julianne went to a lot of effort. And my mama didn't raise me to break a promise."

His lips curved up into a soft smile. Not his usual showstopper, but one much more intimate. Her breath caught in her chest.

"You look amazing."

"What can I say? Julianne is truly a fairy G.o.dmother. Of course, it all wears off at midnight."

"That's okay," he said softly. "I'm pretty fond of the real Shannon."

A lump the size of a boulder formed in her throat, and her body ached with something more than desire now.

"Which means I'll get to see her later tonight."

Shay blinked in confusion.

"Try not to react too ferociously because my lawyer sister has her laser eyes trained on us," he murmured. "But we're sharing that room upstairs."

h.e.l.l's bells, how did that part slip by? The gorgeous room she'd been shown to earlier had its own fireplace, a claw-foot tub, and a comfortable divan chair tucked beneath a window dormer. But only one bed. A fluffy four-poster queen-sized model. It seemed she'd be tortured even in her sleep. If she was able to get any, that was.

"My mom pulled a fast one on me and switched us from two double beds. I couldn't make a scene without blowing our cover."

She nodded. "It's a big room with lots of floor s.p.a.ce."

"You might have left me some room in the drawers." His teasing roused her out of her panic. "And Julianne should have bought you some lingerie, at least. Those panties of yours look like ones my grandmother might wear."

Shay knew what he was doing and she was grateful. Brody couldn't soothe her with his touch, but he could turn his charm on her. And it was actually working. She could feel her nerves settling beneath the warmth of his playful gaze.

"What I wear beneath my clothes wasn't part of the deal." She crossed her arms over her chest and joined in with his banter.

Brody scoffed. "My bad. It should have been."

She acted as if she hadn't heard him. "It's pretty disgusting to think you actually know what kind of panties your grandmother wears."

He laughed then. "Atta girl. We'll work out the sleeping arrangements later. For now, I just want you to relax and enjoy yourself. You deserve some time off. Oh, and ignore my sisters. They all go on these crazy starvation diets trying to fit into their dresses before a big event and it makes them a little psychotic." He waved his fingers at his head in disgust.

It was Shay's turn to laugh. "Your sisters-your whole family, in fact-are delightful."

"My family is a pain in the a.s.s," he said, his tone lacking any real conviction. "What about your family, Shannon? Surely they're not as overbearing as mine."

Shay considered him a moment. The differences between their two families couldn't have been more p.r.o.nounced. The Janik family was large, warm, and exuberant in the security only affluence brings. They were the type of happy family most people dreamed of being a part of. Her own family consisted of just the five of them: Mama, Daddy, Teryn, Shay, and Meemaw. No other grandparents, aunts, uncles, or cousins to share the joys-and heartaches-of life. Meemaw was awful, Teryn self-absorbed, her daddy locked in his own world, and her mama surviving the only way she could. They might not have been perfect, but they were all Shay had, and in the end, she answered him the only way she could.

"My family's delightful, too."

Brody's eyes shone. "I couldn't picture you with a family that was anything less."

The lump in her throat was nearly choking her now, but she didn't have time to think about her lie as they were joined by an elderly gray-haired gentleman with bushy black eyebrows shielding twinkling blue eyes, clearly identifying him as a Janik.

"Leave it to my grandson to keep all the pretty girls in a corner to himself." Brody's grandfather reached out a large sun-spotted hand to Shay. A big man who smelled of Altoids and fresh air, it wasn't hard to see where Brody had inherited his charm from. "This boy has too many women falling at his feet. Make a widower's evening and sit next to me at dinner, darlin'." He placed her hand on his sleeve before she even knew what had happened.

Brody shook his head. "Shannon, this is my grandpa, Gus. Gramps, this is Shannon."

Gus was already leading them toward the large dining room. "So, pretty lady, are you a model or an actress?"

"She's a PhD student, Gramps," Brody said from behind them. "She's studying nutrition."

"Pfft," Gus said. "You're too pretty to be a scientist."

Shay laughed in delight as Gus held out a chair for her. Basking in the glow of someone actually noticing her looks before her brains, she thought to herself that she might enjoy this weekend after all.

Dinner was a circus. Brody's nephews and niece took turns scrambling in and out of his lap while he tried to figure out what he should and shouldn't eat. Shannon was no help. If grandpa Gus wasn't chatting her up, one of his evil sisters was monopolizing her attention.

At least she'd begun to relax. He'd been eaten up with guilt-not to mention s.e.xual frustration-all week at having forced her into this situation. Worse, her little plan hadn't worked and they were both back to square one: roommates without benefits. Not that his trust issues were looming that large anymore. The more he got to know her, the more he believed Shannon was incapable of selling him out. He just didn't know where that left them exactly.

Grandpa Gus reclined back in his chair, patting his lean stomach. "Now that was an amazing meal," he said to no one in particular. "My compliments to the chef."

"Yeah, a meal like that makes you want your own personal chef," Brody's brother-in-law Skip called out from a table across the room. "Too bad you're not Brody, Gus, or you'd have one."

Shannon fidgeted in the chair next to him.

"Don't tell me you cook like that every night for Brody?" Grandpa Gus's eyes lit up and Brody could tell he was formulating a plan to spend the entire season in Baltimore.

"I'm not that kind of chef," Shannon said demurely. "My meals aren't gourmet, just well-balanced."

There was snickering from some of the other tables as the room quieted to focus on what Shannon was saying. Clearly, his family and friends doubted Shannon and Brody were together because of her cooking skills.

"I've been trying to get Brody to eat nutritiously for twenty-seven years now," his mother chimed in. She raised her water gla.s.s in salute to Shannon. "I'm delighted to know that someone succeeded where I couldn't."

He could have kissed his mother for her attempt at trying to diffuse what was becoming an awkward conversation, but her little course correction didn't take.

"No offense, Sybil," Skip said. "But I'm pretty sure Shay has other means of getting Brody to eat nutritiously."

"Skip!" Gwen hissed at her husband. His brother-in-law had obviously had a few too many during the afternoon's golf outing, but that didn't excuse him in Brody's eyes. He was used to the rest of the world thinking he was a philandering jock, but it p.i.s.sed him off that even his own family had begun buying into the image. Not to mention the embarra.s.sment Shannon had to feel at Skip's pointed comments.