Dan’s next blow destroyed Reed’s nose. He began to whimper and tried to push it back into place as blood poured down his face. “It wasn’t my fault,” he sobbed. “I was drunk. I didn’t mean anything.”

Dan dropped his parka on the back of the couch. “When I’m done with you tonight, you’re gonna be hurt real bad.”

Reed tried to scramble to his feet. “No! Stay away! Don’t hurt me!”

Dan advanced on him. “You’re gonna be hurt, but unless I miscalculate, you’ll still be alive. If you want to keep it that way, don’t ever come close to Phoebe again. If you threaten her in any way, you’d better be prepared to live the rest of your life in a wheelchair.”

“No!”

It was the last word Reed uttered before Dan took him apart.

Phoebe didn’t arrive at the victory party until nine o’clock. Her ordeal, combined with the lengthy press conference, had exhausted her. When she’d finally gotten home, Molly had clucked over her like a mother hen and insisted that she lie down. She’d been so exhausted that she’d immediately fallen asleep.

Several hours later, when she awakened, she was refreshed and eager to see Dan. She’d showered and chatted with Molly as she’d dressed. Her sister had been shaken by the events of the afternoon, but recovered her spirits when Phoebe suggested a last-minute slumber party. Peg consented to chaperone, and by the time Phoebe left, the girls were arriving.

The restaurant Ron had rented for the night had a cozy, rustic interior, complete with brick floor and copper pots hanging from open beams. As she entered, her hair was still a bit damp from her shower and it curled around her head. The temperature had been steadily dropping all evening, and she was wearing a loosely fitting fuchsia sweater over a matching skirt in soft, flowing wool. With the exception of a center slit that climbed to a point just above her knees, it was conservative attire, but it felt right with her curly hair and silver doorknocker earrings.

She had just checked her coat when she heard a group entering the restaurant behind her. She turned to see Dan walking in, along with Jim, Darnell, Webster, and Bobby Tom. Everything inside her grew soft and warm at the sight of him.

“I thought I’d be the last one here.” Her voice sounded breathless.

His expression was so tender she could feel her chest swell. “We had a hard time getting away.”

They stood in the middle of the entryway gazing at each other as the men began to move away to find their wives and girlfriends.

Bobby Tom coughed. “The two of you should probably breathe or something so nobody hangs a coat on you.”

Dan didn’t take his eyes from Phoebe. “Don’t you have a playbook to study, Denton?”

“Yessir, Coach.” Chuckling, he left them alone.

Phoebe could have looked at him forever, but they had duties to perform. Dan took her arm and began to lead her into the room. “Half an hour. And then you’re all mine.”