Fair Catch - A Football Romance by Emerson Rose Page B

was about to say something, but I’ve taken her off guard, and she’s flustered.
    “I um, the one with the . . .”
    “The one with the boobs?” I ask, and she smiles.
    “Yeah, that’s her.” Her eyes are focused on my mouth, right where I want them, because who am I to let an opportunity like this pass me by?
    “What about her?”
    She drags her gaze from my lips to my eyes and answers.
    “She’s undercover with the agent, and they’re working together to find the outlaw.”
    “Aw, couldn’t we make her the bad guy? I don’t like the looks of her.”
    She lifts her eyebrow skeptically.
    “No way. Every guy in here has been undressing her with their eyes since we sat down.”
    “She’s not my type. You’re my type, and for the record, the only person I’ve been undressing with my eyes is you.” I lean in and softly press my lips against her slightly parted lips. A soft moan vibrates from her throat, and I have to use every ounce of control to keep from throwing her over my shoulder and hauling her out of here.
    “Ahem. The woman at the bar wanted me to bring you another bottle of wine. I’ll just leave it here for you. Your dinner will be ready momentarily,” our waiter says.
    When we simultaneously turn to face him, he points toward the woman in the gold dress that we were just discussing.
    “Please tell her thank you,” I say, and he starts to leave.
    “Oh, wait, who is she? Do you know?”
    “Ruby Bissette. She is a famous romance author. She comes here often for research. If she’s sending you wine, you might want to look for yourselves in her next novel.”
    “Oh my God. Ruby Bissette? I’ve read all of her books. Do you think she would autograph the wine bottle?” Angel asks the waiter. Before he can answer, she’s up and swiping the bottle off the table, weaving through the crowd toward Ms. Bisette.
    A little worried that the glass of wine she consumed may have already gone to her head, I follow. When I catch up, she’s gushing all over the author and asking the bartender for a pen so she can autograph the bottle of wine.
    “I loved Hot Catch. It’s my favorite book you’ve written so far. Do you have something new in the works?”
    The bartender hands her a pen, and I slide my hand inside Angel’s dress at the waist and gently pull her against my side.
    “Thank you. I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name, darling.”
    “This is Angel, and I’m River. Thank you for the wine. It was very kind of you.”
    “Oh no problem. I should be thanking you two. You’ve given me an idea for my next book.”
    Angel freezes in my arms, and her mouth drops open.
    “You’re going to write about . . . us?”
    Ruby Bisette’s bright red lips draw up in a beautiful smile, and she nods her head up and down.
    “The electricity coming from you two is visible. It’s like New Year's Eve and the Fourth of July in New York over there in that corner, and that’s before he kissed you, honey.”
    Angel’s hand flies to her chest, and she gasps. I’ve never seen a woman get so worked up about an author. She must write some seriously hot stuff.
    Ruby signs the bottle with a flourish and hands it to the star-struck Angel, who is still standing with her mouth agape. I reach over and, with my finger under her chin, I close her mouth and thank Ruby again. She winks and whispers, “Don’t miss Player and the Princess . I think you two are going to love it.”
    I nod and turn my fictional princess around and guide her back to our table, where our food is about to be served and our wine glasses have been filled.
    I help Angel back into her seat, and when the waiters are gone, I look at her still sitting next to me, star-struck.
    “You gonna be okay? I thought you were going to pass out over there.”
    She blinks at me as if she’d forgotten I was sitting next to her.
    “Holy shit, River, that’s the Ruby Bissette. She’s the hottest erotic romance author in the world, and she’s going to write a