to the team, whatever it’s called.”
“Well, whatever the circumstances,” Cal said, “we’re glad Gillette didn’t forget about you. He gave you a nice cushy job when you decided to retire.”
“Cushy?” Rafe laughed. “Did you say cushy? You come down to the stadium any Sunday and watch my staff wrestle drunks, sore losers, and bullies. Or corral some of the team members when they’re loose in a new city. Then tell me it’s cushy.”
Not that he was complaining. He loved his job, more money than he’d ever use and a circle of friends he was comfortable with. Friends who didn’t care about the celebrity status that still dogged him.
“Come on,” Andy teased. “How hard can it be to herd all those groupies?”
The ringing of Rafe’s cell phone broke into the conversation, saving him from having to answer. Because of his position with Lone Star Security, he kept the phone on twenty-four/seven. He pulled it out of his pocket and looked at the readout, expecting it to be one of the players or, worst case, Kurt, with a problem. When he saw who it was, he cursed silently.
Shit!
Kurt’s spoiled, pampered princess. The wild child of Texas.
And the woman he’d been secretly dreaming about for ten years.
Just what he needed.
He pressed the Talk button. “Ortiz.”
“Um, Rafe?” Her voice was soft and a little unsteady.
His stomach clutched, nervous apprehension dancing up and down his spine. What trouble had Tyler gotten herself into now? And why was she calling him, of all people? She never called the security team, never had anything to do with the Hawks unless she was forced to. And certainly never with him. Whenever he’d run into her, he was very careful not to show any interest that could be misconstrued. It hadn’t been just the reputation she seemed intent on building. No, it was actually the fact she was Kurt Gillette’s daughter with a big out-of-bounds sign on her. Getting involved with the boss’s daughter was a sure recipe for disaster.
So often he’d been struck with the feeling that her entire lifestyle was just one big masquerade. That beneath her outrageous exterior was a woman in a lot of pain, determined to tell the world to go to hell. But he wasn’t about to get in the middle of whatever complicated relationship she and her father had. Nope, not at all.
So he’d kept his distance, despite feelings that he ruthlessly suppressed. Now here she was calling him in the middle of the night.
How in the fucking hell had she gotten this number, anyway?
“Yeah, it’s me.” He tried not to let his irritation show.
“This is Tyler. Tyler Gillette.” Didn’t she know her ID showed up on his screen?
“How did you get this number?” he demanded. Rude much, Ortiz?
“Can we please, please talk about that later? Right now I really need your help.”
He could hear loud conversation and music in the background. Obviously she was at one of her usual dive bars. Her activities were legend. Rafe gritted his teeth. If she’d called him it must really be bad.
“What’s up?”
There was a long pause and he wondered if he’d lost her. If she’d hung up. Then her voice came back, a little lower as if she didn’t want anyone to overhear her. Although with all that noise, he wondered how she could hear herself.
“I—uh—I hate to bother you, but can you come and pick me up? Please?”
Pick her up? He held the phone out and stared at it for a moment.
“Where’s your car?” he asked.
“I took a cab.” She was practically whispering now. “I am so sorry to bother you, but I-I have a bit of a problem and I seem to be having trouble reaching people. I would really appreciate it if you could see your way clear to coming to get me.” Slight pause. “Please. I’m in, uh, kind of a bind.”
He just bet she was. Probably the reason she was being excessively polite. His gut told him there was real trouble, and she had focused on him as the solution. He heard a sudden Bam! Bam! Bam! Wherever she was, it sounded as if someone was banging on a door near her.
“What’s going on, Tyler? Where are you? What’s that noise?”
“I—I’m in the ladies’ room at a bar. Uh, Rafe? Please?”
Rafe frowned. Come and get her? Swooping up Tyler Gillette wasn’t on his roster of responsibilities and he’d made damn sure to keep it that way. He had the feeling that no matter what he did he’d end up in trouble.
“Why can’t you take a cab home?” he asked, hating himself even as he heard the callous tone in his voice. Nice, Rafe. “If you’re too blitzed, have the bartender call one for you.”
“I can’t. I—You don’t understand.”
Bam! Bam! Bam!
“You in there, bitch?”
Okay, that really did not sound good. What the hell was going on?
“Fine.” He let out a heavy sigh. If something really did happen to her, he’d never forgive himself. “Give me the name of the bar and lock yourself in the ladies’ until I get there. If the guy busts in just scream, and the bartender will come running. I’ll get there as fast as I can.”
He disconnected the call and tossed his cards on the table. “Wouldn’t you know it. Two queens with an ace back.” He shook his head in disgust. “You guys can divvy up my money; I gotta dash.”
“Man.” Cal shook his head. “You don’t get too many late night calls like this. It must be pretty damn important for you to break out of the game. Or something.”
“Or something,” he repeated and headed for the door of Cal’s town house. “Just deal me out. I think I’m in for a long night.”
God, he really did not want to be doing this. He’d spent a lot of years keeping as much distance between himself and Tyler Gillette as possible. Long years of sticking his hormones in deep-freeze where she was concerned. From the first moment he saw her he’d wanted her, with the passion that only a twenty-two-year-old could have. His need had been hot, strong, and gripping. And for one fleeting moment when they’d been introduced, he saw an answering spark in her eyes.
“Stay away from that one,” Moe Dempster, a linebacker, had warned him the first day. “She’s poison.”
But he hadn’t needed to be told. He’d been a rookie who needed to prove himself to his new owner, and she was that owner’s daughter. And young, besides. He’d known from the get go she was off-limits. She was brash, brassy, over the top, the continuing star of tabloids. She might as well have had trouble tattooed on her forehead. Anyway, her lifestyle was so foreign to the way he lived. He could never be with a woman who defied every rule of good behavior the way she did, even if he did have a sneaking suspicion it was all an act. It wasn’t the way he was raised,
