It Had To Be You

'It's pretty obvious you're a big A.A. Milne fan, honey.' His eyes were warm with amusement. 'Go on. What happened?'

'The housemother eventually called Bert. He yelled at me, but I couldn't eat it. After that, the other girls came to my rescue. They took turns sneaking my meat onto their plates.'

'That doesn't entirely explain why you're so secretive about it now.'

'Most people think vegetarianism is a little kooky, and my kook quotient is high enough as it is.'

'I don't think I ever met anybody other than football players who invests so much energy in pretending to be tough.'

'I am tough.'

'Sure you are.'

His grin annoyed her. 'Just because I wasn't strong enough to fight you off tonight doesn't mean I'm not tough.'

He immediately looked so stricken that she wished she'd held her tongue.

'I'm really sorry about that. I've never hurt a woman in my life. Well, except for Valerie, but that was-'

'I don't want to hear it.'

He turned off the heat under the skillet and walked over to the table. 'I've explained what happened, and I've apologized every way I know how. Will you accept my honest apology, or is this going to be lurking around every time we're together?'

His eyes were so full of concern she had a nearly uncontrollable urge to slip into his arms and ask him if he would just hold her for a few minutes. 'I accept your apology.'

'An honest acceptance or one of those female things where a woman tells a man she forgives him for something, but then spends all her spare time thinking up ways to make him feel guilty?'

'Does Valerie do that?'

'Honey, every woman I've been close to has done that.'

She tried to slip back into her old role. 'Life's tough when you're irresistible to the opposite sex.'

'Spoken by someone who knows.'

When she attempted to frame a retort, nothing came out, and she realized that she didn't have any resources left to play the part she had staked out for herself. 'Those sandwiches must be just about done by now.'

He went back to the stove, where he checked the bottoms of the sandwiches with a spatula, then lifted them out of the skillet. After neatly halving them, he returned to the table with two brown pottery plates and sat in one of the captain's chairs.

For several minutes they ate in silence. Finally, he broke it. 'Don't you want to talk to me about the game today?'

'Not really.'

'Aren't you going to second-guess me on that double reverse? The sportswriters are going to rake me over the coals for that one.'

'What's a double reverse?'

He grinned. 'I'm beginning to see that there are some definite advantages to working for you.'

'You mean because I don't have any secret desire to coach the team myself?'

He nodded and bit into his sandwich.

'I'd never do that. Although I do think you might consider opening up the offense more and starting Bryzski instead of Reynolds.'

He stared at her, and she smiled. 'Some of Bert's cronies got to me in the skybox.'

He smiled back. 'The reporters were upset that you didn't show up at the postgame press conference. People are curious about you.'

'They'll just have to stay that way. I've seen a few of those postgame interviews. A person would actually have to know something about football to answer the questions.'

'You'll have to talk to the press sooner or later. Ronald can help you through it.'

She remembered that Dan still thought she and the general manager were personally involved. 'I wish you wouldn't be so negative about him. He's doing a good job, and I certainly couldn't function without him.'

'Is that so?'

'He's a wonderful person.'

He regarded her intently as he picked up a paper napkin and rubbed it over his mouth. 'He must be. A woman like you has a lot to choose from.'

She shrugged and listlessly picked at her sandwich.

'Damn. You're sitting there looking like a mule that's been kicked one too many times.'

'Gee, thanks.'

He balled his napkin and tossed it aside. 'I can't stand to think that I did this to you. Where are your guts, Phoebe? Where's the woman who maneuvered me into taking Ronald back as GM?'

She stiffened. 'I don't know what you're talking about.'

'Like hell you don't. You conned me. It took me a couple of days to figure out your neat little scam. You and Ronald set me up. He actually had me convinced the two of you were lovers.'

She was relieved to see that he seemed annoyed rather than angry, but she picked her words carefully. 'I don't know why that's so hard to believe. He's a very attractive man.'

'I'll have to take your word for it. But the fact is, the two of you aren't lovers.'

'How do you know?'

'I just do, that's all. I've seen the way you treat him when you think I'm watching: running your eyes all over him, nibbling on your bottom lip, cooing when you talk.'

'Isn't that the way women behave with their lovers?'

'That's just it. You behave the same way with the janitor.'

'I do not.'

'You behave like that with almost every man you meet.'

'So what?'

'Everybody but me.'

He watched her push away her uneaten sandwich. 'You try to tantalize me with that man-eater body of yours, but you can't pull it off very long, and the next thing I know, you're staring at your feet or foolin' around with your fingernails.' He leaned back in his chair. 'It hasn't escaped my notice that you stick your chest out for everybody in pants, but lately it seems I can hardly exchange two sentences with you before you're hunching your shoulders. Now, why is that?'

'You have an overactive imagination.'

'I don't think so.'

She stood. 'It's late. I have to go.'

He rose, too, and came around the end of the table to touch her for the first time since the incident in the gazebo. He was relieved when she didn't flinch, but his stomach still clenched when he thought about what he'd done to her.

As she stood before him in his old blue shirt, she looked both beautiful and fragile, and he couldn't remember ever meeting a woman so full of contradictions. He didn't want to like her, but it was getting increasingly difficult not to.

He closed his hand over her shoulder. 'Are you still afraid of me?'

'Of course not.'

She might not be afraid, but she was skittish, and his conscience couldn't tolerate that. Lowering his hand, he began very gently to rub her arm through the soft cotton sleeve. 'I think you are. I think you're scared silly I'm going to turn into some kind of deviant and attack you again.'

'I'm not.'

'Are you sure?'

'Of course I am.'

'Prove it.'

'How do you suggest I do that?'

He didn't know what devil was prodding him; he only knew his teasing made her smile, and he loved the way