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"Might as well," he said as he moved bottles of organic juice around. "You got anything in here that might not get me labeled 'pussy' on the playground?"

"I don't drink," she said, prim as a nun.

A new fantasy immediately popped into his head. Once he got her into his bed, maybe he could convince her to play the highly-fuckable-nun-who-has-decided-to-make-a-break-from-everything-she-knows-in-an-indecent-red-dress-and-stiletto-heels role. Now there was some nice imagery. Very nice.

"You shouldn't, either," she added as his cock got harder beneath the zipper of his jeans. It took him several seconds to figure out what she was talking about. "Since your body is your job and all, I can't see how alcohol helps."

He grabbed a bottle of organic carrot juice, unscrewed the top, then drank straight from the bottle. A look of distaste crossed her face. She really was too easy.

He took the now-empty container over to the sink and rinsed it out. "I agree with you."

That made her pause. "Then why do you drink?"

"I don't."

Ah, there was that surprise again.

"You actually expect me to believe that you go to strip clubs sober?" She shook her head. "You're nuts."

She didn't need to know that he'd stopped drinking ten years ago. The morning she'd walked away and never turned back.

"My father was a drunk."

She nodded. "I know. But I guess I thought. . ."

The doorbell rang, and all the things Ty wanted to say were lost in his sudden rage at the asshole on the other side of the door who thought he could touch Julie.

For the next two weeks, Julie was off limits.

To everyone except him.

CHAPTER TWELVE

There were many reasons why this date-plus-one should have been mortifying: The fact that Ty got to meet a guy she'd liked enough to have dinner with; that she had to explain to Dave that Ty was accompaning them to the restaurant for business reasons; that the owner of the packed restaurant had no trouble whatsoever finding a larger table for "the great Ty Calhoun and his friends" even though there was a two-hour-wait out on the sidewalk; and that Dave was quite possibly the world's biggest Outlaw fan and knew every significant play Ty had made since college, seemed to have memorized their playbook, and hadn't so much as looked at Julie after she'd opened the door.

But the most mortifying thing of all was that Ty cearly felt so sorry for her that he kept coming to her rescue.

For the past hour she'd counted bites, then chews, then sips of water, because even those were more interesting than Dave's incessant football chatter.

Finally, Ty cut him off. "Did you know Julie and I went to high school together?" Uh-oh.

Dave's mouth opened, making him look like a fish on a hook. What had she ever seen in him?

"Oh man, I can't believe you actually witnessed Ty's moves when he was a teenager. That must have been awesome."

She shook her head. "I didn't go to any football games."

Dave's big mouth grew impossibly bigger. "You missed watching one of the greatest high school players of all time in action? What were you thinking?"

What a total jerk. "Do you really want to know what I was thinking, Dave? Or would you rather ask Ty instead?" she asked sweetly.

Dave blinked in confusion. "Okay." He turned to Ty. "Why didn't she go to football games?"

Ty looked impossibly handsome in the dim light, and Julie was sure every woman in the restaurant was having an orgasm over him. She didn't know how he did it, let all those people stare at him, probe at him. She liked her privacy and couldn't imagine giving it up.

"Julie hates football," Ty told Dave.

"Are you crazy?" he squeaked, a very unattractive sound from a man.

Ty answered for her. "Not everyone likes sports. You've got to respect the fact that people are different, that they have their own interests." Ty turned away from the bumbling fool. "Who is your favorite novelist, Julie?"

Something within her sparked into life. "Alive or dead?"

"Dead."

"Jane Austen."

"Painter. Dead."

"Mary Cassat."

"Musician. Dead."

"Johnny Cash."

He laughed. "Really?"

She shrugged, smiling for the first time all night. "I've always been a sucker for a rebel."

Who would have thought Ty could be so nice? That he'd actually care about her interests, that he wouldn't hold it against her that she didn't know what a safety was?

Clearly, though, Dave didn't care for the new topic of conversation. "What are your plans for next season, Ty?"

Ty waved over the waiter. "I think we're done here. Thanks." He handed him a credit card.

Turning to her loser of a date, he said, "First, I'm going to get to bed early tonight."

Dave nodded, happy to bask in the glow of his hero, not realizing that his moment of glory had just come to an end.

The waiter quickly returned and Ty signed the bill, then held out a hand to Julie. She gladly accepted it and let him pull her toward him.

He whispered," Say good night, be nice, and whatever you do, don't invite him back to your house."

His words were soft and comforting, rather than bossy.

Dave followed at Ty's heels like a puppy dog following its master. Forcing herself to be polite, Julie smiled and said, "It's been a lovely evening, Dave, but I'm afraid I've got an early day ahead of me tomorrow. Good night."

Not surprisingly, he barely blinked in her direction. "Fine. Great. So, Ty, you up for getting a beer? I could call some friends to meet us."

A muscle jumped in Ty's cheek and his voice turned cold. "Sorry to disappoint, buddy, but I've got a beautiful woman waiting for me to take her home."

Julie's heart pounded. She didn't need Ty to be her knight in shining armor. Yet it felt so good to hear him call her beautiful.

Dave shook his head admiringly. "Wow, you must get all the babes. Who is she?"

A sneer curled Ty's lips and Julie was taken aback, accustomed to the carefree grin that drove everyone wild.

"We're keeping our relationship under wraps," he said. "She's not convinced I'm good enough for her yet."

As Dave's mouth dropped open again, Ty put his big palm on the small of Julie's back and guided her through the front door, then out around the corner.

Perfectly happy to go wherever Ty was leading her if it meant getting away from that uber-jerk, she was surprised to find that he'd just steered her into a tiny pizza joint.

"Two slices with everything on 'em and a pitcher of Coke," he told a passing waiter, then pushed her into a carved wooden booth and shoved in next to her. "Please tell me that was a blind date."

Her stomach was grumbling. The waiter slid two enormous pizza slices onto the table. She picked one up and inhaled.

"I wish." She took a bite. And then another. "God, this is good."

Julie couldn't deny how nice it was to have Ty's warm, hard body pressed up against her in the little booth. He was watching her eat, his eyes moving from her mouth, to her throat, to the tops of her breasts on display in her red dress.

She felt like an idiot for even bothering to dress up for a dud like Dave, but at the same time, part of her was happy she'd looked good. Foolishly, she liked it when Ty looked at her. Liked it even better when he was enticed by what he saw.

She looked down at her empty plate, then at his full one. She'd been raised always to be a lady. And a lady never ate more than a man, never raised her voice, never put herself in an untenable position.

Thus far with Ty, Julie had done all three. And the strangest thing was, she wasn't the least bit ashamed of any of it. In fact, she felt downright good.

"You gonna eat that?" she asked, swiping his slice before he could answer.

"Few things are sexier than a woman who eats," Ty murmured, and his words felt like a caress. Her nipples hardened beneath the thin fabric of her dress.

She gulped down some soda, then wiped her mouth off with the back of her hand. God, she loved how free she suddenly felt.

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