So he waited until Tara left her office on Monday, then strolled in, knowing the women there might be his best offensive line.

The cute redhead hurried over. “Mick Riley.”

He held out his hand. “Yes, ma’am. And you are?”

She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose while shaking his hand. “I’m Maggie, Tara’s assistant. And this is Ellen and Karie.”

“Hi, ladies.” He shook their hands, too, his confidence growing after seeing their wide grins. Great. That meant at least one of them might be willing to help him out.

“I’m sorry, but you missed Tara,” Maggie said. “She just left for an appointment.”

“Actually, I was hoping you would help me. Tara thinks it’s not a good idea for us to see each other, and I think it is.”

“Oh. I see.” Maggie all but smirked in triumph. “Well, Tara doesn’t always make the best decisions.”

“So I was hoping maybe you could help me.”

The three women’s eyes all but sparkled.

Women made the best matchmakers, especially if it involved one of their friends.

“What can we do to help you?” Maggie asked, looking for all the world like Cinderella’s fairy godmother.

Score!

She pulled into the restaurant parking lot and got out. Nice place in Sausalito, high on a hilltop with a view back toward the city.

She went inside and gave her name. The hostess led her to a private dining area that was closed off from the restaurant. The view was spectacular, four windows showcasing San Francisco at night.

One table was set up in the corner with a white linen tablecloth centered with a vase of a half-dozen bloodred roses, gleaming white china, and perfectly placed silverware. The crystal was expensive and was the kind of place setting she’d choose for a client if money were no object.

Who was this potential client anyway? She hoped whoever it was had money to spend on an event.

And why all the secrecy? Either Maggie had failed to write down all the information, or this potential client was some kind of freakin’ oddball.

Not that it mattered. She’d take oddball as long as the client had enough money to book an event. Growing her business was everything.

“Have a seat. He’ll be here shortly,” the hostess said.

“Thank you.”

Tara sipped her water, trying to tamp down her nerves. When she heard the door open, she stood and turned around, plastering on her brightest smile.

Her smile turned to a frown as Mick shut the door.

“Mick. What are you doing here?”

He came over and lifted her hand, pressed a kiss to the back, and folded it between his extra large ones. “Hi, Tara.”

She tried to look around him, certain her prospective client was going to walk in at any moment. “You have to leave. I’m expecting someone.”

“No, you’re not.”

Then she understood. Her hope for new business died, and in its place irritation grew. “You set this up.”

He smiled. “Yes.”

“But Maggie said ...” Then it dawned on her. Maggie. Of course. The little matchmaker. “Oh, I see. You talked to Maggie.”

“Your friends like me.”

She rolled her eyes and jerked her hand away. “Obviously all women find you irresistible.” She went to grab her purse.

“Except, apparently, you?”

His smirk indicated he wasn’t at all offended by her impending exit.

“I’m leaving. I don’t like being set up.”

He held the door open for her, which only irritated her further, as if he was going to just let her walk right out. She pushed it closed and laid her purse on the table by the door, then advanced on him. “Look, Mick. I had a great time with you. But it was a one and out, okay?”

“Why?”

“What?”

“Why was it a one and out? Didn’t we get along?”

“Of course we got along. You were there.”

“Yeah, I was there. We had great chemistry, in and out of bed.”

She opened her mouth to object, but really, what could she say? He was right. They did have great chemistry. And she’d enjoyed the hell out of that night. “I’m just not in dating mode right now.”

“Because of your career.”

“Yes.”

“Because it takes up every single minute of your time.”

She crossed her arms. “When you’re playing football, doesn’t it take up every single minute of your time?”

That smirk again. “No. I don’t let my career run my life. I like to actually have a life. You should try having one, too. And you managed to have one for a night with me, didn’t you?”

“That was different.”

“So is this. You do have to stop and eat now and then while you’re busy becoming rich and famous, so we’re going to eat.”

“I don’t appreciate your lying to get a date with me.”

He held out the chair for her. “Then stop turning me down.”

This was ridiculous. She should just walk out. Then again, she was hungry. And if he wanted to pay for her to eat an expensive dinner, then it was fine with her. He certainly owed her after setting up this ruse.

She took a seat. “Fine. But this is the last time.”

“If you say so.” He sat across from her, and the waiter came in bearing menus and a wine list.

“Would you like some wine?”

Tara looked up from her menu at Mick, who deferred to her.

“A Sauvignon Blanc would be nice.”

The waiter left while they looked at their menus.

Mick took a long swallow from his glass of water. “So, business is good?”

“It would be if you had been an actual client.”

He smiled over the rim of his glass. “How do you know I’m not?”

She arched a brow. “You have an event to plan?”

“Okay, not really. But I am interested in finding out more about you. What made you decide to become an event planner?”

“I fell into it, actually. I got a job working for a catering company while I was putting myself through college, and discovered I enjoyed the work.”

“Catering is a lot different than event planning, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is. But the woman I worked for wanted to be a wedding planner. She and I got to be friends and she told me her idea. It was so exciting. The thought of running an entire show like that, being in charge of everything from catering to entertainment to décor—it just clicked with me.”

“It’s a lot of responsibility, planning someone’s wedding.”

“It is, especially if you’re doing big weddings. But it can be so rewarding to take the bare bones and build it up, see it grow from nothing to something spectacular. Anyway, I helped her with the start-up, then went to work for her when she got it off the ground. It was fun, and her company really grew. But I knew even then I wanted something more than just doing weddings. I wanted to plan other events, too, and that’s when I got the idea to be an event planner. So I saved my money, started making contacts in the industry, and when I could, I started my own business.”

“Scary.”

Tara nodded. “Like the standing-on-the-edge-of-a-cliff kind of scary. I thought about it for months before making the decision, but I knew it was a now or never kind of thing. If I didn’t make the leap I knew I’d always regret it. So I did.”

“Good for you. How long have you been doing this?”

“I started The Right Touch two years ago. First year it was just me and one other person. It was all I could afford. We were very small, but Maggie and I worked our tails off building the business. This past year I managed to bring in enough business to add more staff. It’s going well enough that I’m scarily optimistic.”

“I take it you get a lot of business from word of mouth.”

“I take it you know more than football.”

He laughed. “I did more in college than just throw the ball around. I did manage to get a degree.”

“In business, I’m guessing?”

“Yes. You surprised it wasn’t in something like parks and recreation, or PE?”

She snorted. “I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“I’m impressed. A hotshot football player, and you’re smart, too. No wonder women flock to you.”

“They don’t flock to me because I’m smart. They flock to me because my agent is a PR wizard. She’s like a pimp for beautiful actresses and models. If they want to be seen and photographed, Elizabeth finds them and attaches them to me.”

Tara picked up a slice of bread and buttered it. “How nice for you.”

“It puts me on the cover of a lot of magazines, and that sells game tickets, which is good for the team.”

“It helps that you’re also a stellar quarterback. Your stats are amazing.”

He leaned back in his chair. “You’re a fan.”

She shrugged, took a sip of wine. “I like football.”

“Do you like it in the way of, ‘Hey, I know it’s on Sunday and Monday and Thursday,’ or do you like it like you can’t live without it and you know everything there is to know about the game?”

She laughed. “I know a hell of a lot about football. Why, are you going to quiz me?”

“Greatest quarterback of all time?”

“I think that’s a subjective question.”

“Give me your subjective answer, then.”

“Joe Montana.”

“You just say that because you live here.”

“No, I say that because he’s the greatest quarterback to ever play the game. Four Super Bowl titles, three Super Bowl MVP Awards, and I dare you to match any quarterback, past or present, to his pass rating, not to mention his cool factor in clutch situations.”

“He wasn’t even a first-round draft pick. And what about Johnny Unitas or Terry Bradshaw, Tom Brady or Peyton Manning?”

She narrowed her gaze at him. Was he serious? “You’re saying that you think those quarterbacks are better than Joe Montana?”

He paused. “I didn’t say that.”

“Aha! You agree with me, don’t you?”

His lips lifted. “Actually, I do. And not just because he and I played in the same city. Nobody played the game better than Joe.”

She nodded. “Exactly. He was a master at come-from-behind victories. And nothing could match his ninety-two-yard drive in the final minutes of Super Bowl Twenty-three for the win against the Bengals. Best. Game. Ever.”

His lips lifted. “So you might know something about football.”

“Told you.”

He grinned. “I’m glad. Most of the women draped over my arm couldn’t tell the difference between a run and a pass, let alone a draw play from a sweep. They can tell you which actor was the biggest box office draw last weekend or who the top hot designer is. But football? Forget it.”

“Then why do you date them?” She waved her hand. “Never mind, I already know. Your agent.”

“Elizabeth knows what she’s doing.”

“Your pimp, you mean.”

“She’s very good at her job and only has my best interests in mind.”

Tara leaned back, wineglass in hand, and regarded him. “If you say so. But I would think your agent, who has your best interests in mind, would let you choose your own women.”

The waiter delivered their food. Tara dug in and started eating. It took her a while to realize Mick hadn’t said anything, so she cast glances at him above her lashes, but he seemed content enough. Had she said something to offend him? Not that she cared—much.

When he was finished, he pushed his plate aside, took a long gulp of water, and said, “I’m trying to choose my own woman. But she’s being damned difficult about letting me.”

Tara blinked, then emptied her wineglass in two giant gulps.

No man had ever pursued her like this. No famous, gorgeous, could-have-any-woman-he-wants-so-why-does-he-want-me man had ever given her the time of day. She had no idea what to do about Mick Riley. He was utterly and completely out of her league, and couldn’t have come into her life at a worse time.

Then again, was there ever a good time?

Probably not. But this time was definitely not a good time. No matter how much her toes curled at the thought of being sought after by a man like Mick, she had Nathan to think about. This was not a good time.

And she knew just how to shut him down and get him to run like hell from the restaurant faster than he could run a hundred-yard dash. She hated bringing it up, but there was no choice now.

“I have a fourteen-year-old son, Mick.”

“I was sixteen.”

“That explains it.”

“Explains what?”

“You don’t look old enough to have a teenager.”

“Trust me, I’m old enough.” She laid her napkin on the table. “You’d probably like to leave now.”

Oh, now he understood. “You think I want to cut and run because you told me you have a kid.”

“I’m not exactly the kind of woman who’s in your dating pool.”

“No, you’re not.”

She stood. So did he, coming around to her side of the table.

“Thanks for dinner.”

“Sit down.” He took her shoulders and gently pressed her back in the chair, then kneeled in front of her. “If that was your version of a Hail Mary pass to finish things with me, sorry—I happen to like kids.”

She stared down at him, a confused look on her face. “The women you date are young and single, and I’m sure they don’t have teenagers.”

He shrugged. “I don’t have any idea what they have at home. Most of them have those annoying little yippy dogs.”

Tara laughed. “I don’t have any dogs, though Nathan would love one. A big one, like a Lab or a retriever or a German shepherd.”

“Smart kid. Nathan, huh?”

“Yes.”

Mick returned to his chair now that he was fairly sure Tara wasn’t going to bolt. “Tell me about him.”

“He’s fourteen—almost fifteen, really. His birthday is next month. He just finished up his freshman year in high school, and he’s cocky as hell. He—you really don’t want to hear about my kid, do you?”

“Why wouldn’t I? I told you, I like kids.”

“You have any of your own?”

“No. I’d like to someday. And in case you’re wondering, no, I haven’t fathered any that I’m paying child support for. I’m very careful with women.”

“I didn’t ask.”

“But you thought it.”

“Okay, I did think that, you being a superstud with women and all.”

He snorted. “Yeah, right. I don’t believe in getting a woman pregnant and leaving her. Not my style and not the way I was brought up.”

“Well, aren’t you just a saint.”

He leveled his gaze at her, wanting her to know just what he was. And what he wasn’t. “I never said I was a saint, Tara. Just that I’m responsible.”

She looked down at her lap. “Sorry. I’m being a bitch.”

“No, you’re not. I handled this badly. I’m pushy, I know. I backed you into a corner.”

She lifted her gaze to his. “No, you didn’t. If you want to date me, or whatever it is you want to do with me, then you needed to know about Nathan. I’m not trying to hide him. I’m not ashamed of him. It’s just that most men don’t want the baggage. And we haven’t really even dated, so I understand if you want to head out.”

What kind of assholes did she go out with? “You must pick some real losers if they bail as soon as they find out you have a kid.”

Her lips curled. “You haven’t met Nathan. He’s ... challenging.”

Mick laughed. “He’s a boy. And a teenager. We’re all challenging at that age. I was.”

She studied him. “I can only imagine.”

“I need to keep you away from my mother. She has stories about me and my brother that will send you running away screaming. We kept her busy when we were kids.”

There was a look on her face that Mick didn’t understand. Kind of a sadness that didn’t make sense when he mentioned his mother and his brother. “Hey, we were good kids. Honest.”

“I’m sure you were. Anyway, thank you for dinner. I really need to get home.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” She plastered on a smile, but there was no light in her eyes. “I had a great time tonight, but I have some paperwork to do.”

He knew an end around when he saw one. Mick signaled for the waiter. “Put it on my account, Tim.”

The waiter nodded, and Mick led Tara outside, but not to her car, to his instead.

“Where are we going?”

“For a ride. I’ll bring you back to your car. I’d like to spend a little more time with you.”

He opened the door on the passenger side and held her hand while she climbed in, admiring the way she hiked up her skirt to climb in. She turned to him. “Somehow you struck me as a sports car kind of guy, not an SUV.”

“I’m too big for sports cars, and the SUV has enough room for all my gear.”

He went around and got in, started the car up, and drove away from the restaurant, taking a drive up into the hills. Typical for summer, the fog had rolled in, so there wasn’t going to be much to see while they drove. He let her settle and drove to the top of one of his favorite hills, where it was clear and on top of the fog.

“It’s like a sea of white,” Tara said as he put the car in park. The lights from his car cast out over the fog.

“It’s better in the daytime when the fog first starts rolling in. But I still like it up here. It’s quiet. Good place for thinking and for being alone.”

“And for parking?” She slanted him a quizzical look.

“Well, we are parked, but I didn’t bring you up here for that.”

She unbuckled her seat belt and turned to face him. “I kind of like the idea.”

“Of what? Making out in my car?”

“We could start with that, and see where it goes.”

“I think you’re using sex to avoid having an honest conversation.”

She paused. “Isn’t that a woman’s line?”

They looked at each other, and both of them laughed. Tara kicked her heels off and crawled over the console. Mick had to admit he liked watching her maneuver in that tight skirt as she straddled him. He pushed the button and slid the seat back as far as it would go, giving her room. She settled over his lap and laid her hands on his chest. “So we’re having a role reversal. Does this mean I get to seduce you?”

He’d lost all train of thought since all the blood in his head had rushed to his dick. “Honey, you’re sitting on my cock. I’m pretty sure you can do whatever you want with me.”

She smoothed her palms over his chest, then leaned back, letting her hands travel down his stomach toward where his brains currently resided. His dick twitched, and he rocked upward against her. “Do you really want to do it here?”

She lifted a half-lidded gaze to his. “I really want to do it here. Oh. Provided you have protection. I didn’t even think about that. I mean, I usually don’t run around having sex in cars.”

He opened the center console and pulled out a condom.

She grinned. “Ever prepared, aren’t you?”

“I try to be.”

She took the condom from his hand and laid it down, then leaned over him and pressed her lips to his. Any conversation he’d wanted to have with her drifted away with the first taste of her mouth. He caught the scent of wine on her lips, but it was her flavor he was mainly interested in. More intoxicating than any alcohol, she drifted into his senses until he was lost. He dove his hand under her blouse so he could feel her skin.

She moaned against his lips when his hands moved up her back and found her bra. With practiced skill he undid the clasp, then traveled around to the front to slide his hand under the cup, finding her nipple.

Her breasts were small, but her nipples were sensitive, and he could tell she liked when he touched them, because her breath caught when he slid the pad of his thumb over one. The swell of her nipple against his thumb made his cock jerk against his zipper.

Tara drew back, her eyes already gone in that sexy way that seemed to turn them to amber glass.

She leaned back and shrugged out of her jacket, then began to unbutton her blouse. Silk seemed to fit her. She was classy, from the long column of her throat to the way her hair curled at the nape of her neck. She’d worn her hair up again, and he liked taking it down, pulling the clip out, and shaking the curls with his hand, transforming her from buttoned-up businesswoman to sex goddess before his eyes.

Her blouse unbuttoned, her bra opened, and he pulled it over her breasts.

“This is the way I like you,” he said, reaching for her breasts, sliding his fingers over her nipples. “All out of sorts. Your nipples hard, you rocking your pussy against my dick.”

She reached for her skirt and hiked it up over her thighs, revealing sexy pink panties that matched the satin bra. She let her hand drift down and palmed his cock. “This is the way I like you,” she said, her voice dark and breathless. “Hard and ready for me.”

She reached for his zipper and tugged it down, freeing his cock. They maneuvered so he could pull his slacks down over his hips. Tara grabbed the condom, taking a few seconds to stroke him, sliding her thumb over the crest, capturing the fluid that spilled there and licking her fingers after.

“Christ. You’re going to make me come before I get inside you if you keep teasing me.”

“Then let’s not tease anymore, because I need you to fuck me.”

She tore open the condom package and fit it over his shaft, then pulled her panties aside and straddled him. He watched his cock disappear inside her, holding her hips as she settled on him.

Now, that was a sight to make his balls tighten.

When she was fully seated on him, she dug her nails into his shoulders and focused on his eyes, her pussy pulsing around him. She didn’t move at all, just looked at him.

“Feel that?”

He nodded.

“Oh, God, Mick, that feels so good. I could stay here just like this and feel you inside me.”

He squeezed her flesh. “I’m not going anywhere, honey.”

He liked that she wasn’t in any hurry to show him her great prowess in the sack. Every woman that ever took him to bed seemed to want to impress him with how good they were, but there’d always been a remoteness about them, like fucking was a performance or an audition.

With Tara, she was in it with him, sharing it with him. He liked that she made eye contact with him. She wasn’t pleasuring just him; she pleasured herself, too. She dragged her clit against him and paused, her eyes drifting closed, her lips opening as she let out a low moan.

There was nothing that turned him on more than a woman out for her own pleasure. Because she wasn’t here trying to score points in her own game to land him. In fact, he was pretty damn sure that was the last thing on Tara’s mind.

She dug her nails into his arms and lifted, then slid down on him again, every slow inch an agony of sweet sensation. He didn’t know where to look—down at where they were joined or at her face, her ragged pleasure there for him to see.

He reached down and stroked her clit, felt how wet she was, knew this wasn’t a performance for her at all, knew it from the way her pussy squeezed his cock every time she moved, knew it from the way her eyes got hazy and her lids half closed, knew it from the sounds she made and the way the car smelled like sex. No, she was in it to win the game for herself, and he was part of the team.

He lifted into her, stroked her with both his cock and his fingers, needing to feel her come apart around him. Her nipples dangled just out of reach of his mouth. He rectified that by pulling her toward him, flicking his tongue over one, then the other, before taking one between his lips and sucking.

Tara pressed herself further into his mouth. “Yes, Mick, yes. Suck it. Harder.”

He did, and she pushed against him, lifting and dropping down on him, then rocking toward him and riding him faster.

“That’s going to make me come.”

Exactly where he wanted her—in the red zone and headed for the goal line. He left one nipple and went for the other, sucking it hard like she wanted. She shrieked as she came, her pussy clamping down on his dick like a vise. He held tight to her as he jettisoned a hard come into her, jamming his feet into the floorboards and shuddering while his orgasm rocked him.

Touchdown, point after, game winner. He laid his head between her breasts, feeling her heart pound.

“You made me sweat all over my good suit,” she murmured.

He smiled. “Uh ... sorry?”

She laughed and leaned back to smile down at him. “You aren’t sorry at all.”

“No, I’m not.”

They disentangled and righted their clothing while Tara made a decent attempt to climb over into her seat. “This is not my finest moment. I can’t believe we had sex in your car. I’m hardly sixteen anymore.”

“So?” He buckled his pants. “There’s nothing wrong with acting like it once in a while.”

She wrinkled her nose. “I should know better.”

“So you’re supposed to act like a stuffy grown-up all the time?”

She reached down for her shoes and shrugged. “I have a kid. And yes, I should. You’re a bad influence on me.”

He pulled her toward him and kissed her, making sure she understood just what kind of influence he was. When he finished, her lips were swollen, her eyes dazed. “I like to think I’m a good influence on you.”

They drove back to the restaurant and to Tara’s car. She reached for the door handle and paused.

“Thank you again for an ... interesting night, Mick. But I’m going to have to be up-front and tell you we can’t have any kind of relationship.”

He wasn’t buying it. “Because you don’t like me.”

She looked out the window instead of at him. “That’s not it.”

“Because you’re embarrassed to be seen with me.”

“That’s not it, either.”

“Because you’re ashamed of your son.”

She snapped her gaze to his. “Of course not.”

“Then I want to meet him.”

“Oh, hell no.”

He arched a brow. “So there’s either something wrong with me or with him. Which is it?”

She rubbed her temple. “Neither. I don’t know. You confuse me.”

His lips quirked. “Good confuse or bad confuse?”

She blew out a breath. “I don’t know. You just confuse me.”

He wasn’t going to give her an opportunity to walk away this time. “I’ll call you.”

She waved her hand and opened the car door. “Yeah, you do that.”

“Good night, Tara.”

She slammed the door shut and got into her car. Mick waited until she left, then followed her through the fog, making sure she made it to the highway safely.

It wasn’t until he made the turn to go back to his place that he realized he only had her office number, not her personal one. And he didn’t know where she lived.

He could fix that, though.

Tara was someone he wanted to know better. And she could put up whatever defensive line she wanted, but Mick wasn’t the kind of guy to back down from a good defense.

It was time to shore up his offense.