Several of the other fans in the sports bar had turned their attention from the TV screens. Jamar knew he needed to defuse the situation before this got out of hand.

“Don’t worry about these guys,” he said loud enough for those at the surrounding tables to hear. He infused amusement into his voice in an attempt to convey an air of joviality he wasn’t really feeling.

“Yeah, Diesel was all big and bad when he played for those Longhorns,” the guy continued, his words slurred. “The boys in the NFL showed you what real football is about, ain’t that right? How’s that knee treating you?”

Taylor twisted around in her seat.

“Taylor,” Jamar warned, but it was too late. Poor bastards.

“Has your skinny ass ever even played football?” she asked the mouthy one. “Why don’t you just shut up and watch the game.”

There were murmurs of agreement from some of the other patrons.

The guy cackled. “Oh, you got your girl fighting your battles for you?”

“I don’t need—” Jamar started, but Taylor talked right over him.

“He knows that I can kick your ass with one hand while I finish eating my cheese fries with the other. Why should he waste the effort?”

The guys at the table burst out laughing, but Jamar wasn’t willing to take a chance that their good-natured ribbing wouldn’t turn ugly. He stood and made another attempt to lighten the mood.

“I’d watch what I say around her if I were you,” Jamar said with a laugh. “Not only could she kick your asses, but she would have fun doing it.” He threw a hundred-dollar bill on the table. “Let’s get out of here, Taylor. Maybe if the Raiders had come to play, it’d be a game worth watching.”

Jamar did his best to ignore the table of heckling Texas Tech fans as he and Taylor headed out of the sports bar. He reminded the offended Longhorns faithfuls to ignore the guys. The last thing anyone needed was a brawl to break out.

Breathing a sigh of relief once they exited the Tavern, he glanced over at Taylor and grinned.

“You really were ready to kick some ass, weren’t you?”

“Hell yes,” she said. She hooked a thumb back at the sports bar. “Is this the kind of bullshit you’ve had to put up with since you got hurt?”

He shrugged as he opened the door of his SUV and helped her into it.

“Usually guys aren’t that drunk this early in the day,” he said. “But, yeah, I get some version of that at least once a month.”

“How haven’t you landed yourself in jail on an assault charge!”

“You’re cute as hell when you’re angry on my behalf,” Jamar said.