Page 60 of Win Big

“What?”

“‘Winning isn’t everything, it’s the only thing.’”

“Vince Lombardi didn’t say that.”

“What?”

I shrug. “Everyone thinks he did. It was actually Red Sanders.” I narrow my eyes at him. “Do you really believe that?”

“Of course.”

“Is this a game to you?”

“Everything is a game, princess. And if winning isn’t everything... why do we keep score?”

I’ve stopped eating, my fork poised in midair. I don’t know how to deal with this man.

“So,” he says, continuing to eat, as if we’re talking about the weather. “We’re going to have fun together.”

“Define ‘fun.’”

“Really?” He arches an eyebrow. “Here?”

My inner muscles squeeze up, my thighs tightening. “That’s what I thought you meant.”

He laughs.

“We’re not having sex.” I lean forward to whisper the words fiercely.

“That would definitely be fun.”

I sit back in my chair and grind my back teeth together. I want to scream! “That’s not what this is about,” I insist.

“True.”

I frown.

“But there’s no reason it can’t be part of it. Like I said, we can do this and put on a show, but what we do behind closed bedroom doors is our own business.”

I gasp. “And like I said, we’re not having sex.”

Oops. I might have said that a little too loud. I glance around.

What is he doing to me? I don’t lose my composure like this.

“We’ll see. How’s your salad?”

I blink and look down at it. “Uh. Good.”

At that moment, a woman approaches our table with a hesitant smile. “Hi there. I’m sorry to interrupt. My husband and I are just leaving, and I wonder if I could get a quick autograph? My son is a huge fan of yours.” She holds out a tent card from the table, folded inside out, and a pen.

Wyatt flashes a charming smile. “Of course.” He takes the card and the pen. “What’s your son’s name?”

“Brandon.”

He nods and writes on the card. He’s left-handed.

Gah. I don’t know why, but I find left-handed mensoattractive.

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