Author: Jaci Burton

“So tell me, Jenna. What is it about me that bugs you?”

She tossed the rag into the bin and palmed the edge of the bar. “I don’t date sports players.”

He quirked a brow. “Yeah? Why’s that?”

She held her arms out to her sides. “Look at all this, Ty. I’m surrounded by it all day, nearly every day. And then there’s Mick and Gavin and all their friends who passed through the house. I’ve had sports ad nauseum all my life.”

He tilted the bottle up to his lips and drank, then handed the empty to her. She tossed it.

“I see. You’ve had your fill of guys like me.”

“Now you’re beginning to see the light.”

“So I’m damned because of my profession. Out of the running before I’ve even had a chance.”

She nodded. “Yup. You’re wasting your time on me. Might as well go find another girl to charm.”

He came behind the bar. “What if I don’t want another girl? What if I want you?”

Uh-oh. Her body was pinging like a Geiger counter and Ty was radioactive. The closer he got, the hotter she became. She took a step back. “I don’t want you.”

He stopped, his lips curving in a knowing smile. “You keep saying that, but I don’t think I believe you.”

“Arrogant men are not appealing.”

“I’m not being arrogant. I’m just good at reading signals.”

“You are so full of shit.” She bent down, grabbed her bag, and held it in front of her like a life preserver. “What signals?”

“You’re breathing fast. Your cheeks are flushed. Your pupils are dilated.”

“I’m exhausted and out of breath from running around trying to close down this place. And it’s hot in here.”

He laughed. “It’s not hot in here. And you’ve been standing still.”

He had her there. “Go away, Ty. I need to close up.” She fumbled in her bag for her keys.

“Go out with me.”

She jerked her head up. “What? No. Hell no.”

“It wouldn’t be so bad. I promise.”

“I’d rather have a root canal.”

He didn’t seem insulted. What would it take to get him angry, to hurt his feelings? To get him the hell out of this bar?

“I promise you that going out with me is way more fun than dental surgery.”

“I’m…seeing someone.”

One perfectly formed brow rose. “You’re seeing someone.”

“Yes.”

“Who?”

“You don’t know him.”

“How do you know I don’t know him if you don’t tell me who he is?”

“He’s not involved in sports.”

“I know a lot of people not in sports, Jenna.”

She was digging this hole deeper and deeper. “He’s not from around here. And I have to go.”

“Got a date?”

“Yes.” She pushed on him until he finally budged and headed for the door. She punched in the code and hurried outside, tossing on her jacket to ward off the frigid temps.

Of course he just had to walk her to her car. Damn him for being a gentleman. He’d be a lot easier to not think about if he were a prick.

“A little late for a date, isn’t it?” he asked when she got to her car.

“None of your business, Ty.”

“So, it’s a booty call.”

She gasped. “It is not a booty call. It’s a date.”

“He taking you out to dinner at three a.m.?”

She clamped her lips tightly together.

“The movies, maybe?”

“You’re an asshole.” She pivoted and got into her car.

“Good night, Jenna.”

He stepped back when she peeled out of the lot, and just like the last time, he stood there watching until she drove away.

Damn him for making her think about him, for making her want him.

She’d show him. She’d get herself a guy.

Maybe if she found someone else to go out with—and ultimately have sex with—Ty wouldn’t be front and center on her mind.

THREE

TY HADN’T INTENDED TO SHOW UP AT THE RILEYS’ house, but Gavin had invited him.

Sunday dinner was apparently a big deal to the Rileys. Ty had no family here, but he and Gavin had become friends over the past months, playing basketball whenever they both managed free days. That wasn’t often though, since Gavin was prepping for the beginning of the baseball season and Ty was on the road playing hockey. But every now and then they managed to hang out together, like today, though the family had held up dinner waiting for Gavin and Elizabeth to show up.

He’d actually gotten to know Gavin through his agent, Elizabeth Darnell, who was now Gavin’s fiancée. Gavin hadn’t liked Ty at all when he’d first met him, because Ty had flirted with Liz to try to make Gavin jealous. Apparently it worked since the two of them were engaged and planning to get married.

But first it was Gavin’s older brother Mick’s wedding coming up in a couple weeks if he remembered right. And judging from the frenzied talking going on between Liz and Tara, Mick’s fiancée, along with Gavin and Mick’s mother—it seemed like the wedding planning was in full force.

Ty was glad he wasn’t taking part in it. Weddings were so not his thing.

He hung out in the living room, drinking beer and talking with Gavin, Mick, and their dad, along with Nathan, Tara’s teenaged son.

This was a nice family. There was a warmth and closeness to this family that he hadn’t felt with his own. Mick told Ty that he and Tara had decided to make the permanent move to St. Louis, including relocating Tara’s business so Nathan could go to school here. Family was important to them, and even though Mick still played for San Francisco, it was easier for him to travel, and more important for Tara and Nathan to be near Mick’s family since they had all become so close.

He understood that. A tight family was a family that stayed together. He wished it had worked out for his parents, but that was a different situation.

“You’re looking good on the ice, Ty.”

“Thank you, sir.” Ty smiled at Gavin’s father, Jimmy Riley. Jimmy had heart surgery several months back, and ever since he’d been robust and healthy, had lost weight, and laughed more than anyone Ty knew. It was like getting a second chance had showed him how great life was.

“Don’t call me sir. Makes me feel old.”

“You are old, old man.” Mick, who sat on the sofa next to his dad, nudged him in the ribs.

Tyler wondered if Mick’s dad’s surgery was a motivating factor in the whole relocation thing. Almost losing someone you love could make you alter a lot of life decisions.

“You think I’m old, boy? Ha. Not too old that I can’t kick your ass in a game of Horse.”

Tara entered the room, crossed her arms, and rolled her eyes. “Here we go.”

“I’m young enough to take both of you with one hand tied behind my back,” Nathan chimed in.

Jimmy tilted his head back and laughed. “You’re teaching that boy well, I see,” he said to Mick.

Mick grinned. “Doing my best to make a smart-ass out of him.”

“Mick. Language,” Tara warned.

“And a quarter for the cuss jar, Dad,” Nathan said.

Tyler sat back and soaked it all in. The warmth, the obvious love they all felt for each other. This was what it was like when people genuinely cared for each other. No tension, no walking on eggshells, no pretending things were all right and everyone was happy when they weren’t. Because everyone in this house was happy.

“Dinner will be served as soon as Jenna gets here,” Kathleen said as she entered the room. “She’s just waiting for her relief to show up at the bar.”

Tyler had wondered if Jenna was going to be here. Now he knew.

She breezed in about twenty minutes later, tossed her purse on the table in the entryway, and flung herself onto the sofa next to her mother. Her mom kissed her cheek.

“Rough day?”

Jenna shrugged and propped her feet on the table. “Nah. Casey was late, as usual, but it wasn’t a busy day, so no big deal.”

Jenna greeted everyone, and her gaze landed on Tyler. She arched a brow. “What are you doing here?”

“Waiting to eat the great dinner your mother prepared. And Gavin invited me.”

Jenna shot Gavin a glare. Ty smirked.

“We played basketball earlier today, so I invited Ty to dinner. You have a problem with that?”

“Why would I care who comes to dinner?” She shrugged and pushed off the couch. “I’m going to get a drink. Anyone want one?”

She left the room and her mother rose, too. “I’ll go check the roast and put the potatoes on now that Jenna’s here.”

“I’ll come help you, Mom,” Tara said.

“Me, too.” Liz got up to follow, and Ty figured that was a signal for girl talk to commence, either about him or about the wedding. Or maybe both.

“What’s going on with you and Jenna?” Gavin asked.

“Nothing. I tried to get her to go out with me. She said no.”

Mick snorted. “She hates sports and any guy who plays them. Except her brothers, of course.”

“Dude. She barely tolerates us and we’re family.”

Mick nodded at Gavin. “True.”

Ty tilted the bottle of beer to his lips and took a long swallow, then nodded. “Yeah. She made it pretty clear I didn’t stand a chance.”

“Do you like her?”

Ty shifted his gaze to Nathan. “Yeah, I like her.”

“Then go for it.”

“Kind of like beating my head against a brick wall, kid.”

Nathan dragged his gaze away from the soccer game that was on to focus his full attention on Ty. “So? Dad always tells me not to give up on something I want.”

Ty didn’t plan to give up, but he wasn’t going to have this conversation with a teenager and Jenna’s brothers. “I’ll give it some thought. Thanks for the pep talk.”

“Anytime.”

Mick grinned over Nathan’s head at Ty. “He’s right. She’s stubborn, but we kind of like you.”

“We do, though I don’t know why,” Gavin added with a wink. “And God knows she never goes out. Give it a shot.”

“She said she was seeing someone.”

“She’s lying,” Mick said. “Tara said she’s not bringing anyone to the wedding. If she had a guy, she’d have a date. As far as I know she’s going solo.”

Interesting.

JENNA HID OUT IN THE KITCHEN WITH HER MOTHER until the last item had been dragged into the dining room. Then she had no choice but to join the family—and Ty—in there.

It seemed like every time she turned around, there he was. At the bar, and now at her parents’ house. What was it going to take to get rid of this guy? It was bad enough he haunted her fantasies. Did he have to stalk her reality, too?

Of course, since everyone was paired up, and Nathan had such a fierce case of hero worship of Mick that he had to sit next to him, Tyler ended up being seated next to her. The physical attraction she felt for him was intense. She tried to focus on her food, but she had damn good peripheral vision, which meant even glancing at her plate meant she could see his hands—strong and large, with dark hairs that crept up his wrists. He’d pushed the sleeves of his Henley up so she couldn’t help but notice his muscled forearms. So instead, she focused on her lap, which meant she’d occasionally steal glances at his thighs, and then her gaze would travel inward toward his—

Stop. She would not stare at his lap, would not imagine him pushing his chair back so she could climb on and rock against him.