from Chapter One …

The day Kevin Tucker nearly killed her, Molly Somerville swore off unrequited love forever.

She was dodging the icy places in the Chicago Stars headquarters parking lot when Kevin came roaring out of nowhere in his brand new fire-engine red Ferrari 355 Spider. With tires shrieking and engine snarling, the low-slung car sprang around the corner, spewing slush. As the rear end flew toward her, she flung herself backward, hit the bumper of her brother-in-law’s Lexus, lost her footing, and fell in a cloud of angry exhaust.

Kevin Tucker didn’t slow down.

Molly glared at the fading taillights, gritted her teeth, and picked herself up. He hadn’t even seen her, let alone noticed that he’d nearly killed her. Of course, that was nothing new. Kevin had spent his career with the Chicago Stars football team not noticing her. The man was reckless, shallow, and he only cared about football. Enough was enough. She was finished with unrequited love.

Not that it was really love. Instead, she had a pathetic crush on the jerk, which might be excusable if she were sixteen, but was ludicrous for a twenty-seven year old woman with a near genius I.Q.

Some genius.

A blast of warm air hit her as she entered the lobby through a set of doors emblazoned with the team logo. As a dyed-in-the-wool romantic, she preferred reading a novel or losing herself in a museum to watching contact sports. Of course she was a dedicated Stars fan, but her loyalty was more a product of family background than natural inclination. Sweat, blood, and the violent clashing of shoulder pads were as foreign to her nature as…well…Kevin Tucker.

And speaking of Kevin Tucker, here’s a tiny little peek at him

Kevin tossed down the last of the Daphne the Bunny children’s books Molly had tried unsuccessfully to hide when they returned to the cottage. He couldn’t believe it. Half of his recent life lay on the pages she’d written. Expurgated, of course. But still…

He was Benny the Badger! His red Harley… His jet ski… That very minor skydiving incident blown way out of proportion… And Benny snowboarding down Old Cold Mountain wearing a pair of silver Revos. He should sue!

Except he was flattered. She was a terrific writer and the stories were great-kid hip and funny. Although there was one thing he didn’t like about the Daphne books… The bunny generally ended up getting the upper hand over the badger. What kind of message was that to send to little boys? Or big ones, for that matter?

He leaned back on the saggy excuse for a couch and glared toward the bedroom door she’d shut behind her. His policy of never mixing business with pleasure had blown up in his face. He was Kevin Tucker! He didn’t have to beg for any woman’s affections. From now on, he was going to be all business with that irritating little brat… Until they got back to Chicago, it was strictly hands off.

[Editorial note from SEP: Ha!]

--From This Heart of Mine by Susan Elizabeth Phillips
© February 2001 Susan Elizabeth Phillips used by permission