Free Huddle With Me Tonight by Farrah Rochon

heard some good things about this place. The shrimp tempura is supposed to be excellent.”
    “I hope so,” Paige said. “I’ve been impressed with the atmosphere so far. If the food lives up to the hype, it’ll make things a lot easier.” At his confused looked, Paige clarified, “I’m reviewing the restaurant for my next column.”
    “Ah,” Torrian sat back. “I hope they know not to get on your bad side.” His grin was rueful, but Paige thought she caught a bit of self-deprecation. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I couldn’t help it.”
    She felt the need to defend herself. “Negative reviews are not my default.”
    “I shouldn’t have said any—”
    “People seem to think—”
    The attendant returned with the drink menu, interrupting Paige’s rebuttal. They ordered sake for two and two bottles of mineral water.
    When the attendant left, Paige continued, determined to make her point. “I don’t go into a review hoping to find things to complain about,” she said.
    “I know that,” Torrian said.
    “It feels as if I’m getting a reputation for being this ball-busting—”
    “Please,” he stopped her, reaching over the small round table and covering her hand with his. “What I said was uncalled for. I can’t seem but to stick my foot in my mouth when I’m around you,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
    Her skin burned where he touched it. Her entire body warmed with him so close. “We have gotten off to a rocky start,” Paige agreed, pulling her hand away in an effort to preserve her sanity.
    “I’m not the jerk I appear to be.”
    “Don’t worry,” Paige laughed. “You’re not the first person to accuse me of bringing out the worse in them.”
    “It’s not you, it’s this entire situation. Any confrontation I experience usually remains on the football field. I’m not good at handling it off the field. I guess I need to practice my diplomacy skills.”
    He smiled, and her stomach tightened. She’d seen him enough times on television and magazines to understand that there was something about Torrian Smallwood that went beyond what other men possessed, but to be inundated with that raw, in-your-face sexual magnetism was overwhelming.
    “You should have more practice at this diplomacy thing than I do. You said yourself that I’m not the first person who’s caused some strife on your blog.”
    “No, you’re not,” she answered. The people at Goldstein Publishing were probably ready to put a hit out on her.
    “So, what’s the deal?” He leaned forward and settled his elbows on the table. “Why did you chew me out on your blog? What do you have against me, Paige?”
    “I don’t have anything against you,” Paige insisted. “My review was not personal. When I read a book, or see a show, or eat at a restaurant, I have a certain set of criteria in mind, and your book did not live up to those criteria. It’s as simple as that.”
    “So are you saying none of that stuff you posted on your blog was personal?” Torrian asked.
    “It wasn’t supposed to be,” she said. “I did take a couple of cheap shots, though. I apologize for that. But you did the same,” she pointed out to make herself feel better.
    “I know.” He shook his head, staring at a spot on the table. When he looked up at her, genuine remorse shone in his honey-colored eyes. “I really am sorry for some of the things I said.” A rueful smile edged up the corner of his mouth as he toyed with the packets of artificial sweeteners on the table. “I pride myself on setting a good example for my nephew of how to be respectful of women, and here I am, doing the complete opposite.”
    Paige leaned over and caught his hand. “Stop beating yourself up. I accept your apology.”
    As soon as she touched him, something changed. His eyes slowly traveled from where their hands touched up to her eyes. His thumb caressed the underside of her wrist, moving back and forth across the sensitive spot.
    The table attendant