It was a weeknight and cold as hell. There were a few teenagers huddled together in front of the dart booth and no one else.

Nope, scratch that. There was one more person at the far end, in front of the football-through-the-tire booth.

Callie.

She turned, frowned at him, and then shocked the hell out of him. “Well, hurry up then.”

He craned his neck and looked behind him because surely she wasn’t talking to him.

“Can you do this or not?” she wanted to know, pointing at the game in front of her.

Shoving his bare hands into his pockets, he strode over to her. Toe to toe, he stared down into her stormy eyes, noticing with some grim satisfaction that her breath hitched at his nearness.

“Do what?” he asked.

Her gaze dropped to his mouth and she drew her lower lip in between her teeth. “Um.” She gave herself a visible shake and hoisted the football in her hands. “I’ve spent twenty-five bucks on this stupid game to win a stupid stuffed animal and I’m not leaving without one. Your throwing arm is legendary. Teach me how to throw.”

He blinked but nope, she was still here, looking hauntingly beautiful and, better yet, speaking to his sorry ass. “Show me what you’ve got.”

She wound up and tossed the football. It missed the target by a mile. In fact, it would’ve hit the lanky kid behind the counter if he hadn’t thrown himself to the ground.

The kid got up, retrieved the ball, and handed it back to Callie.

Callie stared down at it. “What am I doing wrong?”

“Other than throwing like a girl?”

Eyes sparking, she thrust the football at him. “You’ve got two shots.”

“Actually,” the kid behind the counter said, “only one more shot.”

Callie glared at him.

The kid lifted his hands. “Hey, lady, I don’t make the rules.” He gave Tanner a good-luck look and backed away.

Tanner weighed the football in his hands. “I haven’t thrown in a long time.”

“I’m not leaving here without a stuffed animal, Tanner.”

“Why don’t you just buy it?” he asked.

“That’s not the point!” she said, irritated. “I have to win it.” She paused and then admitted, “And plus I’ve spent twenty-five bucks already. If I lose this round, I have to go back to my place for more money.”

“Okay, I’ll buy it for you.”

This produced an icy glare that nearly froze his nuts off. “Don’t you dare,” she said. “You’re a football star. You have a record a mile long. Haven’t you seen the Nike commercials? Just do it.”

He stared at her. “Have you been drinking?”

“Not yet.”

He stared at her some more.

“I know,” she said. “I’m a nut.”

“A bossy nut,” he agreed. “But a beautiful, bossy nut.”

She rolled her eyes. “Hello, I run a bridal empire. Bossiness is a required trait. Throw the damn ball, Tanner. I want the purple unicorn. But you should know I’m still not speaking to you.”

“Fair enough.” He looked at the ugly purple unicorn sitting on the shelf with about fifty other ugly rainbow-colored unicorns but all he really saw was Callie’s expression earlier. The hurt, the vulnerability. She was hiding it now, but it was still there just beneath the surface and he wanted to be the one to make it go away. “I’ve had a few drinks,” he said.

She stared at him and then tried to grab the football back. “Fine, give it to me if you don’t think you can do it.”

“I can do it,” he said. “Of course I can do it.” He really hoped that was true.

“Well, then.” She slapped the football against his chest and stepped back, gesturing impatiently with her hand for him to go ahead.

“I will,” he said, stepping closer. After he apologized. “Listen, about before at the bar—”

“Just the purple unicorn, please,” she said stiffly.

“It’s just that you came in at the tail end of a conversation that—”

“I know,” she said. “Whatever. Forget it.”

He wished he could. “Callie, I’m trying to say I’m sor—”

“Throw the damn ball, Riggs, or give it back.”

He threw the ball.

And missed.

The kid sucked in a breath of shock. “Dude,” he said, sounding hugely disappointed.

Not Callie. She tossed up her hands, muttered something about men not being worth jack shit, and started to walk off.

God damn it. Tanner grabbed her wrist and held tight with one hand while he shoved the other into his pocket, fishing for money. He came out with a five and slapped it on the counter.

“Never mind,” Callie said.

Hell no. “Wait,” he said, and gestured for the kid to bring him the football. When he did, Tanner bounced it in his hands a moment, familiarizing himself with the feel and weight of it after all this time.

“Seriously,” Callie said. “This isn’t necessary—”

He silenced her with a look and threw the ball. If it didn’t make it through the tire, he was going to have to shoot himself.

Luckily, the ball sailed right through.

More than a little relieved, he started to turn to Callie, only to let out an oomph as something crashed into him.

Callie throwing herself at him.

“Thank you!” Cupping his jaw, she brought his face down and gave him a smacking kiss on the cheek. “Thank you.” She kissed his other cheek. “Now I don’t have to kill the kid who kept selling me tickets.”