Sly “Bullhorn” Brodsky wished winning the heart of Samantha Drake was as easy as protecting his quarterback. Bull tried to live down his rep as a womanizer. Locker room chatter had elevated him to the level of “player”. But Samantha Drake, stunning sister of a teammate, didn’t want to have anything to do with him. Or did she?

On his best behavior, Bull pulled out all the stops to woo the reluctant beauty. Samantha is overcoming her doubts about Bull until Tiffany, a woman from his past shows up. The blonde brings more than one kind of trouble. Will it threaten only Sam’s heart or her life, too?

A taste of the book:

Samantha Drake was quality....She was of the “bring ’em home to mom” variety. He was lucky to have her attention. How many bruisers like him ended up with classy women? None he knew of.
Maybe Bullhorn Brodsky, whose booming voice could be heard in the next county, and who could bring a three-hundred-pounder to his knees, had a shot at a relationship with this exceptional woman. Don’t blow it, Sly, he’d told himself a thousand times.

Samantha closed the front door and leaned back against it. Her pulse was racing, her face was hot, and she was a bit breathless. She had never expected the big man to be able to kiss like that. Of course, if he was a major seducer, that would make sense. But he appeared to be real sweet. He’d helped her move all day then taken her to dinner-his only reward a couple of steamy kisses. Doesn’t fit with the image of a major player.
He tasted like café au lait, and he smelled like a woodsy aftershave mixed with his own, unique scent. When her fingers had tightened around his biceps, a tingle had shot all the way through her. The man was solid steel. Except his warm skin. She had braced herself against his chest.
She had wanted him to make love to her. A trip to Nirvana in the arms of the offensive lineman would have been heaven. But her rational mind had stepped in, putting her libido on hold. Besides, he hadn’t asked. He’d been the first to break and left her wanting.

Bull sensed the color rise to his face. That’s exactly what he’d said to Trunk when they’d prowl the strip clubs together on the road, before Tiffany came into his life. After she’d broken his heart, he didn’t have it in him to go back to his tomcatting ways. He’d known love and nothing less was acceptable anymore. How could he make Trunk understand? “That was then, and this is now.”

“I’ve never been to a place like this. Do you know anything about this kind of food?” he asked, his brow furrowed, as he read the menu.
“A little. I see those sweet potato fries.” She arched her eyebrows as she studied the offerings.
“I’ll have those. What else?”
“A veggie burger?”
“With enough catsup, you can eat anything,” he said, but his voice didn’t ring as confident as his words.