“Excuse me…are you Daisy Katrakis?”

  A soft voice broke through her thoughts as she bent forward over her legs. A young woman looked down at her shyly, sweat glistening on her forehead.

  “Yes, I am.” Daisy’s first thought was that she was somehow using the gym incorrectly. This was her first time here; maybe she’d already broken protocol somehow?

  “Oh my god. You are so awesome.” A stream of giggles erupted from the woman, and she pressed a hand over her mouth. “Sorry. I-I’m sorry, this is sorta weird. I just think it’s so cool that you work in the NFL!”

  Daisy blinked a few times, incredulity washing over her. Was this…a fan?

  “Oh! So you know who I am,” Daisy repeated, feeling more than dumbstruck.

  “Oh yeah, my whole class knows who you are! I’m in my senior year for exercise science, and I’ve always thought how cool it would be to do something like what you’re doing. Except I didn’t know if it was possible.” Her fan’s throat bobbed, admiration pouring from her deep brown eyes. “Can I have an autograph?”

  At this request, Daisy could only laugh. “Of course.”

  Her fan shrieked and ran to the locker room. She returned with a clean sweat towel and a sharpie. “This is all I could find. I swear it hasn’t been used. Will you sign it for me?”

  Daisy could hardly believe what she was doing as she scrawled a sloppy version of her signature on the cotton towel. The girl shrieked.

  “Thank you so much! I’m so honored to have met you. Can’t wait to show my classmates this tomorrow!”

  Daisy grinned, waving as the girl bounced away and back to her friends. Daisy’s head was spinning even more now. Had that really happened? She still couldn’t wrap her mind around the fact that anybody might be following her career. She knew she was neck-deep in a profession ruled by men, but it was still hard for her to believe that anybody actually followed her.

  This is what your job means. Blazing trails. You just gave a graduating class of women hope for their future.

  She headed to the treadmill with renewed determination. She was living the dream and breaking the glass ceiling. And that was exactly what she’d dreamed for herself during high school, and even earlier. To do the things that she wanted to do, even if society—or her mother—told her it would be impossible.

  Forty-five minutes melted away on the treadmill, and another half hour on the rowing machine. By the time she was sweating and feeling clear-headed again, her phone rang. It was Alex, her older brother.

  “Hey there, Margie!” His nickname for her came from the fact that in Greek, the word for the flower daisy was margarita. Of course seven-year-old Daisy had hated the nickname, which meant it stuck. Forever.

  “Hey, Alex! I was going to call you this week. Actually, I meant to call you as soon as I left work today, but—”

  “But you had to get straight to the gym, right?”

  She snorted, looking around her. “Either you know me or I’ve activated a video call without realizing.”

  “So your new job is going well?”

  “It’s…a lot,” Daisy said, releasing a long breath. She collected her things to head back to the locker room. “I’m feeling the pressure, that’s for sure. But it’s awesome. The team is amazing. They’ve welcomed me instantly.”

  “I’m sure James has something to do with it,” Alex said. “Speaking of, how is my long-lost buddy?”

  “Don’t you know the answer to that better than I do?” She pushed out of the weight room, sneakers squeaking on the shiny floor.

  “I haven’t been able to call him in a while. I’ve been so busy helping Dad open the new restaurant, and James has been full-tilt since the divorce.”

  Daisy frowned. She’d forgotten about his divorce, which somehow bothered her. Resolving to admire him from afar came easy when he was taken. But if he was single and looked like he did? Then she might have trouble keeping him out of her dreams at night.

  “Right. When did they divorce?”

  “I’d say about two years ago now, and his ex took off for Singapore for a job right after it was finalized. Why, you still got your eye on James Sullivan?” Alex cackled in the way only big brothers could.

  “I never had my eye on him to begin with,” she protested. But it was a pathetic lie because he was the first and only man she’d ever cared to notice. Being four years older than she was, he’d been the standard against which all other men were compared. And as an angsty, hormonal teenager, it wasn’t hard to elevate James Sullivan to god status once he’d graduated and gone on to college. Then he’d become the ultimate unattainable hottie. When she’d entered college, she’d forced herself to move on.

  “Oh, please. Then why were you hanging around with us for every game we ever decided to watch on TV?”

  “Because I love sports!”

  “Sure, sure. You loved football back then, but you’d watch baseball with us like it was your job.”

  She sighed, thankful he couldn’t see the dead-giveaway smirk on her face that would tell him he was right. “I was just hiding from Mom and her endless attempts to get me into a dress.” Because if there was one thing she could always fall back on from their childhood, it was the fact that their mother had not taken well to her non-girly interests. Now that she was almost in her mid-thirties, their mother had finally accepted it. But only because she’d witnessed Daisy mold her love of football from hobby to passion to career.

  Alex snorted—diversion successful. “True enough. Listen, once you get settled in, we’re going to come visit you. I need to see my buddy James, too.”

  The siblings exchanged goodbyes and hung up, leaving Daisy still shaking her head over her brother’s ribbing. She’d do well to find a boyfriend, any boyfriend, just to stave off romantic links between her and anyone on the team…especially James. But honestly, she had no time these days. Not when she was the newest strength and conditioning coach for the Savannah Sharks.

  A ripple of pride ran down her spine as she packed her duffel bag in the locker room.

  No relationship was worth getting in the way of her absolutely rocking this new role. She’d been working her entire adult life toward this feeling. And while James had proven to be a tempting distraction at work each day, she was confident she’d be able to move him out of the Former Crush & Heartthrob category and into the Unnaturally Handsome Colleague category where he needed to reside.

  It would happen soon enough…as long as she could convince her subconscious to stop imagining what it might feel like to cozy up in his arms.

  It’s just been too long since you’ve been with someone. That’s all.

  But the deepest part of her was worried it was something much more entwined than that.

  3

  Another week, another loss.

  James counseled himself daily—hourly—that this still wasn’t a full losing streak. Coach had planned a team cookout at his house for their collective off day, with a stern warning not to let this most recent loss affect their good time. When we’re off the clock, we’re not moping, he’d told them on Monday after tape review.

  Which was why James showed up to Coach’s expansive property on the outskirts of Savannah with Emma at his side, determined to have a good time—or at least act like it. The cookout started after school and went through the evening. Families dropped in and out as homework and jobs allowed, but by six o’clock the place would be packed.

  “You excited to see everyone?” James asked his daughter as he rang the front doorbell. Coach had lived here for a few years now, and this annual cookout was always a highlight of the season. All the players brought their families, which meant kids could have their fun while the adults got a chance to socialize.

  Emma shrugged, clutching a thick book in her arms. “I guess.”

  Not exactly the response he’d been hoping for. Emma had always loved these cookouts in the past, unlike his ex-wife Mary, who had never really seemed to click with anyone else. It had always been a chore for her, the distaste practically steaming off of her.

  One of many signs that James hadn’t caught early enough as their marriage unraveled.

  “Well, the food will be great, you can count on that, and all your football friends are gonna be here,” he reassured her as footsteps approached the front door from inside. Coach pulled open the thick wooden door, looking as happy as if they’d won the last game 48–10.

  “Hey there, Sullivans!” He stepped aside, gesturing for them to come in. The clamor of the party buzzed in the background, and James could see a handful of teammates lingering in the house. “Come on in, make yourselves at home. We’re partying inside and outside today, though most of the kids are outside.” Coach patted Emma’s shoulder, and she mustered a smile.

  “Let’s go take a lap,” James encouraged Emma, curious to see who was here already…and whether Daisy was among them. He hated how he looked for her each day. It was a habit he’d never consented to, a curiosity that burned through him from the second he entered the training facility.

  James followed closely behind Emma as they entered Coach’s home, which was a mix between mansion and ranch. Rugged wooden floors led into the open-floor-plan living room and kitchen area. A raucous greeting swelled through the house as James came in.

  “Sullivaaaaaan!” Teammates hooted and hollered, while others pounded on countertops. James relished the welcome. Maxwell and Mark came up to his side, jostling him before taking a knee to greet Emma face-to-face. Wives and children always complained about feeling extra small during gatherings of professional football players, and it was no wonder why. This team was full of beasts, with their tallest player clocking in at six-foot-eight.

  “You hungry, honey?” James asked once the greetings had come and gone. A sumptuous buffet lined the extra-long dining room table: a fancy cheese platter, nuts and fruit arranged better than an Instagram post, shrimp that wound up a spiral platter, and what looked to be a variety of soups on a warmer. Deli meat sandwiches, cut into triangles, were stacked on plates, and a vat of gourmet mac and cheese had been about half consumed. Emma pointed immediately to the mac and cheese.

  “That looks good.”

  “Yeah, it does,” he murmured, but he knew his own meal would come from the barbecued cuts of chicken and lamb in a warmer at the end of the table. “Go load up a plate, and we can go eat out back.”

  While they grabbed plates and started filling up, James looked around again. Mark had brought Tessa and their son Angus, who looked thrilled to be in the company of so many football players at once. Tessa fit perfectly at his side, a perma-grin on her face as she chatted with other football wives.

  His heart twisted. Man, he’d thought he’d had that once. But it turned out, he never really did. And he hated to admit how much he still wanted that. Not just the good company to bring to work events like these…but the partner.

  Mark and Tessa were crazy about each other. Had he ever felt that way about Mary? He struggled to recall. Maybe once upon a time. And even though he was in his late thirties, with a kid and career that fulfilled him, he still wanted the whole package.

  His mind drifted to Daisy in the annoyingly consistent way it had been lately. He frowned down at his plate, reminding himself not to keep scanning the room for her. He’d imagined running his fingers through that thick, dark hair more times than he could count. And she’d been on the job a week.

  “Hey, guys. How you doing?”

  The familiar feminine voice jostled him out of his thoughts. Daisy stood across the buffet table, her sparkling grin nearly sending him to his knees. She wore a strappy light blue dress that didn’t hide how much she worked on her body: graceful but powerful arms, sexy shoulders, that olive skin he’d been noticing too much over the past week. His stomach went twisty-turny, and he couldn’t keep the surprise—or relief—from swarming him.

  “Daisy. What’s up? You remember Emma, right?”

  His daughter sent a small smile toward Daisy from the end of the table. Daisy’s grin brightened, and she nodded. “How could I forget the gorgeous daughter of James Sullivan? I’m sure you don’t remember me, Emma, but we last saw each other when you were just two years old. I can’t believe how much you’ve grown.”

  “Thank you,” Emma said quietly, sending a shy smile to Daisy. “Nice to meet you.” She turned to James, her plate full. “I’m gonna go out back and eat, okay, Dad?”

  “I’ll meet you out there in a bit,” James said, watching as she headed for the back patio where big tables sprawled under umbrellas. Out in the yard, a kidney bean-shaped pool with cerulean water was flanked by lounge chairs. Some of the football wives were laying out and chatting, bikinis on display. Emma selected the farthest chair at an empty table and settled in, opening her book immediately.

  “She’s so sweet,” Daisy murmured, selecting her own plate. “You’re doing a great job with her.”

  James laughed, casting a doubting look out to his daughter. “You could tell from just ten seconds around her?”

  “Well, I know what a great guy you are and how hard you work, so of course you’re going to do a great job. There’s no other choice but great for you.”

  He smirked. “Jeez, Daisy. Way to build a guy up. Are you a coach or something?”

  She laughed, the dimples flashing in her cheek a surprise punch to the gut. Had she always been this stunning? She’d blossomed in a way he hadn’t noticed in the past, that was for sure.

  “Just calling it like I see it,” she said, plucking a cheese cube off a tray and popping it into her mouth. “Dang, this is a good spread. Does Coach always do stuff like this?”

  “This is his annual cookout,” James said, loading up his own plate with grilled chicken and shrimp and a couple triangles of sandwich before grabbing a napkin. “But it’s the cookout. So you joined the team at the right time. From here, it’s all work until the playoffs.”

  “Guess I got lucky then, huh?” She assembled a sampling of nearly everything on the buffet table onto her plate—including the mac and cheese.

  “I don’t know. I remember you being the sort of girl who could plan her luck,” James teased. “Maybe you orchestrated our last strength coach leaving at just the right time so you could get your invite today.”

  “You caught me,” she said with a wink.

  James looked out the window, his heart sinking when he saw Emma’s plate untouched and her nose still buried in that book. “I gotta go make sure my kid is talking to other humans and stuff. Come eat with us.”

  “See? Good dad right there,” Daisy said, crunching into a baby carrot. He found it hard to tear himself away from her, unnerved by how eager he was to catch up on all the years that had flowed by since they’d last seen each other. He headed for the back patio, laid with brick and lined with immaculately manicured bushes. Hibiscus flowered along the border, and big trees provided shade on the western edge where all the tables were lined up.

  “Honey, eat something,” James said as he settled across the table from his daughter. “You barely had breakfast either.”

  “I’m getting there,” she said, the whine already evident in her voice.

  “You can put the book aside for a second. It’ll be there when you’re done.”

  She didn’t say anything and simply furrowed her brow and continued reading. At the next table over, one of his teammates sat with his family, which included a girl and a boy around Emma’s age. She’d always played with them in the past—long games of tag and hide-and-seek that he’d have to tear her from. Once he’d started into his chicken, he said, “You should go play with Franklin’s kids. You guys always have fun together.”

  Emma glanced ever so briefly to their side and then continued reading.

  “Once you eat, you should go hang out with them,” James encouraged, feeling like this was every conversation they had; he’d grasp at straws, and Emma would barely respond.

  “I have to turn in a book report tomorrow,” Emma said, the exasperation more than evident in her tone. “So I have to finish this book.”

  Judging from her place in the book, she’d need to be up until midnight reading. “Okay. But I want you to have some fun too. Maybe we can schedule a break?”

  “Okay,” she murmured, eyes glued to her book. Daisy showed up a moment later, setting her plate on the table.

  “What’d I miss?” she demanded brightly, sliding into the chair between him and Emma. James couldn’t help but notice how Emma’s gaze slid to Daisy automatically and stayed there, like she was curious what the woman would say. James could identify with that sentiment.

  “Just trying to get my A student to take a break from school,” James teased, reaching across the table to pinch Emma’s cheek like a goofy aunt. She laughed but it died quickly, and she buried herself in her book again.

  “Oh, I know what that’s like. But sometimes a book is just that good. Can’t blame a girl for liking to read.”

  “I say nutrition first, read second.”

  “Yeah, but you’re her dad,” Daisy said, sending a conspiratorial look toward Emma, who offered a small smile in return. “Of course you’d say that.”

  The three of them bantered for a while, engaging with Emma while they ate and she read. He could see his daughter loosening up the longer Daisy chatted, until finally, Emma was digging into her own food and focusing her attention on Daisy.

  “So you’re the only lady on Dad’s team?” Emma asked softly, squinting up at Daisy, after a conversation about what Emma did with the Sharks.

  “That’s right. The only one on the field; there are some in the back office, of course. But luckily, all the guys are nice.”

  She frowned down at her food. “Do they have a bathroom for you there?”

  James was touched by her thoughtfulness, but Maxwell interrupted before he could say anything.

  “Sullivan. Get your ass in here. We need you for something.” Maxwell’s face shone with mischief as he jerked his head toward the interior of the house.