The writer’s name penetrated the fog of postorgasm relaxation she was drifting in. “He told me to exploit your vulnerability.”

Luke’s laughter rumbled against her cheek. “I’ll be damned. The cynical writer played matchmaker.”

“He kept mentioning some bet. What was he talking about?”

She felt a tiny shock of tension stiffen his body. “Three drunk guys made a wager on something that should never be gambled on.”

“What?”

He hesitated. “Love.”

That made her angle her head back so she could see his face. “Are you serious? You don’t date during the football season.”

“That rule has changed,” he reminded her. He led her over to the sofa, dropping onto it and pulling her down beside him. “It was a bad night. My best friend had just retired from football. I knew my time was coming, and I wasn’t feeling good about that. Miller got us drunk and we started in on the problem of finding a woman who loves you for yourself and not because you’re famous or rich.”

“Who’s the third?”

“Nathan Trainor of Trainor Electronics.” Luke looked away for a moment before meeting her eyes again. “We all bet that we would be engaged by the end of a year. I figured I would wait until after the end of the season and then get to work on the project. Because I’m an arrogant jerk.”

She thought about how dark his mood must have been to agree to such a wager, and her heart pinched.

“I want you to know that the bet had nothing to do with today.” His voice carried an undercurrent of concern. “Well, maybe it did. It made me think about how limited my life was, so I decided to go on that tour with you. But I’m not here to win the bet.”

“Considering how hard you tried to get rid of me, I’m not all that worried. Although you are pretty competitive.” She smiled up at him to show she wasn’t serious.

He didn’t return her smile. “I almost asked you to wait for me until the end of the season, but it didn’t seem fair to you. I couldn’t guarantee that things would work out between us. I told myself if you found someone else, then we weren’t meant to be.” His eyes went dark. “But I’ve never been good at sitting back and letting someone else decide my fate.”

She touched his cheek. “I would have waited. Gladly.”

“That still wouldn’t have made it right to ask you.” His grip tightened. “You had the courage to tell me how you felt. I needed to make the same commitment.”

“I guess we owe Gavin a thank-you,” she said. “Although I wanted to strangle him after you walked away.”

“He gets that reaction from a lot of people.” Luke’s tone was wry.

“So, how do you prove you’ve won the wager?”

He hesitated a moment before shaking his head. “I can’t tell you that.”

“Can you tell me what the stakes are?”

“When my win is official, I’ll let you in on all the details. Before that would be cheating.” He looked down at her with a smile as tender as it was hot. “If you really want something, you have to earn it fair and square.”

She wanted to melt into him. “You athletes just love your clichés, don’t you?”

“They’re clichés because they’re true.” His dimple faded. “When you think about it, I love you is probably the world’s most overused phrase. But when your heart is in it, those words take on whole shades of meaning you never imagined before.” He leaned in to touch her lips with his. “I love you, Miranda.”

She smiled against his mouth. “That’s one cliché I’ll never get tired of hearing.”

The kiss went long and intense before he pulled away. “Now you’ll get your first taste of what a pain it is to be my girlfriend.”

She thought of Orin. “I already have.” She looked him right in the eyes. “I need an honest answer from you about something. Do you know the Anglethorpes at the Pinnacle?”

“Never met them,” he said, his expression unchanged. “Why?”

“They got me my job back. And I think they got Orin fired.”

“Then I like them.” He kissed her again. “Okay, sugar, it’s time to meet the press. Just to prepare you, there are probably at least a dozen reporters camped outside that door.”

“You mean, while we . . . while I . . .” She dropped her head into her hands as heat flared up her cheeks. “They’re going to know. I mean, I must look like I’ve just, er—” She glanced back up at him pleadingly.

“Found out that I love you?” His dimple deepened. “Only I know exactly how I convinced you it was true.”

Little imps of light were dancing in his eyes, and Miranda choked on a half laugh, half groan.

He tugged her to her feet and wrapped his arm around her waist like a protective barrier. “Just stare up at me adoringly and they’ll leave you alone.”

“I know you’re joking, but I can do that without even trying,” she said, her throat suddenly tight.

As their eyes met, his grew hot. “Don’t look like that now or you’ll end up naked on the sofa.”

“That’s not the best way to stop me.”

A strangled sound came from his throat before he tucked her against him and marched her to the door. Wrapping his hand around the knob, he looked down at her, his face serious. “You don’t have to do this. I can deal with them alone.”