“Dare I ask why?”

  “It’s just a stupid stunt, but you need to climb a pyramid of dudes.”

  James snorted and stood. “You two okay for a bit if I go inside and climb this pyramid?”

  Daisy waved him off. “Go on! I want Emma to myself for a little anyway.”

  James made sure Emma was okay with that before following Maxwell inside the house where the team was gathering in front of a large wall in the living room. Mark consulted his phone while directing players into specific positions.

  “There’s this stunt going around the league,” Maxwell said. “It’s just for social media, but it’s been blowing up. So of course we’ve gotta do it.”

  He watched as linebackers kneeled on all fours on the ground, realizing what this probably meant for him. “Great.”

  “Think of it like the inverse of cheerleaders,” Maxwell said with a laugh.

  “If any of you gets hurt from this…” Coach warned while the second row of players began to assemble.

  Mark called for Maxwell to join, and slowly, person by person, the pyramid was forming. Wives giggled and snapped pictures in the background while James waited for his turn: the very top.

  Once everyone was stable, Mark hollered for him to join. “Quarterback up!”

  James sighed. The role of team captain brought along some odd responsibilities, he supposed. He found his footing along the spines of his teammates and hauled himself up to the top, his teammates groaning below him. Once he was there, shaky and adrenaline pumping, the pyramid lasted approximately five seconds before the bottom row shouted at him to get the hell down.

  James slid down to the floor, and the other rows began to disassemble behind him. But the effort, however ridiculous, had been a success: they had the picture, which Mark promised to add to Instagram.

  Maxwell rubbed his neck. “You’re a heavy dude, Sullivan, you know that?”

  “Two hundred and twenty pounds of heaven,” he confirmed.

  Maxwell shoved at him, and the two got lost in some friendly pushing, later joined by Mark.

  “Easy on the throwing arm,” Coach warned, his hawk eyes on their friendly sparring.

  “Of course, Coach,” James said with a laugh, pulling himself from the fray. He needed to get back and check on Emma, but when he headed for the patio, he noticed through the big windows that she and Daisy looked deep in conversation. Emma twirled the tip of her ponytail, a habit she had when she was deeply engaged in a topic. James hesitated. Maybe he should leave them be.

  A hand clapped him hard on the shoulder. Maxwell was back. “Whatcha looking at?”

  James jerked his chin toward the back patio, but his gaze drifted to Daisy this time, and the light blue dress that he fought not to notice. Damn, it looked like she was a runner. Svelte but powerful—a deadly combo when it came to his sex drive.

  “You really thinking about Coach Daisy like that?” Maxwell asked. “Not to say I haven’t thought the same myself, of course…”

  “No, dummy, Emma is there with her. They’ve been talking, and I don’t know if I should interrupt.” He paused, thinking back on Maxwell’s words. “And what are you trying to say about our new coach?”

  “Nothing, nothing.” Maxwell said, his eyes widening in innocence. “Is it a crime if she’s hot?”

  James studied him for a moment. “Not a crime. But damn, are you that thirsty?” Really, the words were for himself. Because yes, he was that thirsty, specifically for Daisy, and he didn’t want to be.

  “She knows her shit, and look at her.” Maxwell gestured toward the window just as Daisy crossed her leg, exposing that olive expanse of toned thigh. James gritted his teeth. Maxwell had fair points.

  “She’s here for a job,” James reminded him, unable to rip his gaze off Daisy. Just then, Emma’s face lit up with a smile. That’s the smile he needed to focus on—figure out how to make Emma happier, get her through whatever adolescent hump this was. And the smile served as a reminder: he needed to focus on the true priorities in his life. Which Daisy and her impossibly toned legs could never be.

  “Which she’s great at,” Maxwell enthused.

  James laughed, clapping his friend on the shoulder. “I’m gonna go bust into their girl party. I’ll catch you later.” James stepped onto the back patio, the pleasant scent of the autumn air mixing with the smell of wood from the dying barbecue. When he reached the table, Emma straightened.

  “Hey there,” Daisy said, a little too brightly. “You’re back.”

  “Not sure if you two saw through the window, but what happened in there is about to be viral.” He sat in front of his plate again. Emma fidgeted in her seat before popping to her feet.

  “I’m gonna go find the restroom, be right back,” she said and hurried away. He sent a questioning look to Daisy.

  “Why do I feel like Dad should have just stayed gone?”

  Daisy deflated slightly, which was not the response he’d expected to his joke.

  “Okay, so clearly there’s something I missed,” he prompted.

  “You should talk to Emma about it,” Daisy said, nibbling on her bottom lip. When she looked up at him, there was doubt in her gaze.

  “I guess I wouldn’t know where to begin, since I have no idea what might have happened in the twenty minutes I was inside.”

  Daisy expelled a breath, folding her napkin into smaller and smaller halves. “Just mention that you saw us having a conversation. I don’t want to step on any toes, you know?”

  James tilted his head. “You’re making my dad alarms go off right now. What the hell is going on?”

  Daisy looked behind them, as if to check that Emma wasn’t on her way back to the table. “Listen, I don’t want to make her uncomfortable. She didn’t want me to say anything to you. But Emma told me she’s being teased at school about the way she dresses.”

  “You talk to her for twenty minutes and get that out of her, but I’ve been asking for months why she’s acting strange and get nothing.” James set his jaw, shaking his head. The joys of parenting, or something like that. It was hard not to pin some of the blame on Mary for leaving Emma less supported than she could be.

  “Don’t get upset with her—” Daisy started.

  “I’m not. I’m upset with myself.” James sighed, suddenly not hungry for the rest of the food on his plate. Nobody had warned him that this single-dad shit would have obstacles like this. And his girl wasn’t even a teenager yet. He feared what fresh hell awaited him once she hit the double digits.

  Daisy reached out and squeezed his wrist. It was a simple gesture, but one that lit him up. He swallowed hard, looking at her fingers clasped around his wrist. The immaculate black fingernail polish she wore. His stomach dropped, but for an entirely different reason this time.

  “I can’t imagine what it’s like. I know you’ll be able to figure it out with her. Just…try to do it delicately. I don’t want her to think I betrayed her trust by immediately tattling to her dad. But…you’re right. You needed to know.”

  “I took her back-to-school shopping not too long ago,” James muttered, more to himself than Daisy.

  “Well, if you go again…let me know. I can help out.” Daisy offered him a reassuring smile, one that was hard not to get lost in. Then she straightened, waving at someone over his shoulder. “She’s coming back this way,” Daisy said quietly.

  When Emma sat down again, James rubbed at the knuckles of his left hand. Daisy launched into an easy conversation with Emma about how much fun it would be to have a girl’s day sometime, if she wanted to try something like that. James shouted THANK YOU on the inside as he watched Emma light up over the suggestion.

  Despite the unwelcome shock of Daisy’s discovery, James’s gaze wandered over the feminine curves of her shoulders. He should have known better than to even consider something as frivolous as a romance during the season. Daisy was hotter than he wanted to admit, but today had proven just how badly his focus was needed on the home front.

  Daisy had proven herself to be not just a good coach, but also a sweet and caring colleague.

  James needed to leave it at that.

  4

  A week after the cookout, Daisy stayed late at the training facility. The previous Sunday had seen a win, but a shaky one. The Sharks had come out ahead only due to the opposing team’s mistake, which meant that Coach Scooter still treated it as a loss, and that Daisy had to refine the conditioning plan.

  As a result, the players were getting hit hard in today’s practice, a fact that Daisy equally lamented and celebrated. She knew they’d come out stronger on the other side. But she’d watched as Coach Scooter had a field day with the men out on the field. She took fastidious notes on each teammate in turn, taking extra care not to linger too long on James while still making sure she documented the fact that his throwing arm looked weaker than usual. And when she’d given him a stern warning to ice his shoulder, she’d forced herself not to hang around and chat with him no matter how badly she wanted to.

  By five thirty, she knew she needed to wrap it up and head home. She’d just moved into a new condo townhouse the previous weekend, and she had plenty of tasks on her to-do list. Daisy gathered her things, pulled her hair into a messy bun on top of her head, and then headed for the parking lot. The fall sun bore down, threatening to melt her as she wound through the sparse remaining SUVs and sports cars these players called their main rides.

  Midway through the parking lot, she found James peering into the popped trunk of his black Escalade. For reasons she didn’t want to think about, her heart started racing. It always did when it was just them for any length of time.

  “What’s going on out here, Sullivan?” she asked, forcing herself to sound bright and airy when all she wanted to do was hop on his back and beg him to take her with him. “I thought you and the rest of the offense had already left for the day.”

  “I would have been gone,” he said with a wry look, “but I’ve got a flat tire.”

  She tutted, peering around the side of his SUV to check it out. “You want help?”

  “Nah, I’ve got it.” He tugged the spare tire out of his trunk but winced as he hoisted it.

  “Your shoulder needs rest,” she warned him. “Put that huge thing down.”

  “I got it,” he repeated.

  “As your conditioning coach, I say let me change your damn tire.”

  He smirked, letting the tire fall to the ground. He peered down at her. “You know how to change a flat?”

  She snorted. “Do you know how to call a play?”

  He tilted his head, a small smile tugging at his lips while he studied her. His unbroken attention made her insides flutter as if butterflies had taken up residence behind her rib cage.

  “Damn, Daisy. I should know better than to challenge you. Coach.”

  “Exactly.” She reached for the tire iron, sending him a mischievous look. “Now step aside, Sullivan. I told you earlier to nurse that shoulder, and I meant it.”

  “But you’re—”

  “Don’t even say a girl,” she warned, pointing the tire iron at him. “Because I’m more than aware.”

  James laughed. “You’re so tiny.”

  “I am not tiny,” she insisted.

  “You are. Let me help.”

  “No. The only thing I’ll let you do is mansplain,” she teased, which elicited a guffaw from James. “And hand me the jack.”

  “These stubborn Katrakis kids,” James muttered as he did as he was told. “They just do what they want, helping everyone in their paths.”

  “Bunch of jerks, I know,” Daisy quipped as she got to work on the tire.

  James sighed, shoving his hands into the pockets of his mesh shorts while he watched her. Every inch of her body was sizzling and aware under his gaze. It shouldn’t have felt this wrong to help him out. She’d have done it for any member of the team, especially one suffering from a shoulder strain. So why did this feel like she was crossing a line?

  It’s because you know how badly you want this man.

  She suffocated the thought, focusing intently on changing the tire. James’s occasional commentaries and mansplaining—“So you know about tightening the bolts, right?”—provided the much-needed laughter to stop thinking so much about the sculpted terrain hidden by tight workout clothes mere inches behind her.

  Once she was done, James gave the tire a test kick and nodded.

  “That’s the official test, right?” she asked, shielding her eyes from the sun as she looked up at him.

  “Totally. You passed. Good work.”

  Daisy snorted. “I’m glad. Now you can thank me by healing whatever’s going on with your shoulder by Sunday.”

  “How about I thank you with dinner instead?”

  His question made her stomach plummet to the ground. Had she heard him right? “Dinner?”

  “Yeah. I’m starving, and Emma doesn’t get home until late on Wednesdays because of dance. So what do you think? I know a good spot.”

  Daisy opened her mouth to respond, but nothing came out. Of course she wanted to go to dinner with him. But she shouldn’t. Because it could be construed as something it wasn’t. But maybe more because of how badly she wanted it to go into forbidden territory.

  “Uh…” she began.

  “Oh, you got plans already?” James asked, cocking his head. It was a good-natured challenge, and something about the way he was watching her felt like goading. Amusement surged through her, a warm, sticky feeling that almost felt foreign. James was too easy to be around. Sure, they’d known each other since childhood, but there was just something about him that begged her to stick around whenever they crossed paths.

  “No, it’s not that.” She laughed nervously, choosing honesty over making up some excuse. “I’m just worried the team will find out and think...that…you know. Maybe there’s something going on, or…worse.”

  James scratched at his neck. “So is that what people think when I take Maxwell out for dinner sometimes? Trust me, teammates go out together all the time. You’re part of the team.”

  A laugh burst out of her. “You have a fair point. Yes, I’d love to go to dinner with you. As long as you promise me we can eat mildly healthily.”

  “I can’t make that promise,” he said with an evil smile. “But I can promise you’ll love it.”

  An hour later, Daisy and James were seated at a small table for two in the back corner of a trendy American fare restaurant. Golden lighting showcased abstract paintings of quinoa and root vegetables. Servers were dressed down, but the wine list was top notch. Daisy oohed and aahed at every item on the menu—it was a perfect mix of decadent and healthy, just as she preferred.

  “This place is amazing,” she said for maybe the fifth time as she stumbled over yet another gem on the menu—sesame-crusted salmon with a sweet corn risotto.

  “I knew you’d love it.” James crossed his arms, a smug smile overtaking his face.

  “Don’t look so satisfied,” she teased.

  “Hard not to when you’re reacting like that.”

  She lifted a brow, glancing up to find an unreadable look flash across his face. Maybe she was being a little too enthusiastic. “You trying to say something about my appetite, football man?”

  James burst into laughter, his heartbreaker grin coming out in full force. Her stomach went fluttery again. How had she provoked such a gorgeous smile? She needed to remember so that she could conjure it at will. This was the smile that had started the James Sullivan Fan Club in high school. The grin that had girls falling at his feet, on and off the football field.

  “I’m not stupid enough to do that to a Greek lady,” James said, mischief in his gaze.

  “Smart man not taking me to a Greek joint, too,” she added.

  “You’d have only torn it to shreds.”

  He wasn’t wrong. She’d grown up with a local celebrity chef as a father, which meant there were always mouth-watering dishes from her parent’s homeland within arm’s reach. Her love of sports and physical activity was probably the only thing that had saved her from overdosing on spanakopita in her college years.

  A server came around to take their orders. Daisy opted for the salmon, while James chose the blackened scallops with truffled whipped potatoes. Both refused alcohol, though Daisy knew her reasoning was probably different from James, who needed to be in peak physical condition for Sunday. No, she just wanted to avoid the inevitable loosening that would occur, the split second of desire that might make her extra touchy-feely by the end of dinner.

  She needed to avoid that at all costs.

  “Speaking of Greek joints,” James started once the server had cleared their menus, “how’s your dad’s new place doing? He’s opening it with Alex, right?”

  “Oh, it’s a mess, which they always are. But it’s going well. Alex told me the other day he misses you and wants to catch up.”

  James’s gaze dropped to the table as he got lost in thought. “I miss him too. Man, time flies when you’re a single dad.”

  Daisy frowned. “He told me what happened with Mary moving to Singapore. I had no idea.”

  “Oh, yeah. That’s been a barrel of fun, let me tell you. She wants me to send Emma there for a full month in the winter. But I want my holiday time with my daughter too, so I don’t know what the hell to do there.”

  “Wow. Would she fly alone?”

  “I don’t know. I can’t talk about it too much with her without getting upset. Emma wants to see her mom, but I think Mary should be making trips back to the US. What ever happened to joint custody where the parents lived in different counties, not countries?”

  Daisy snorted. “Lifestyles of the rich and famous.”

  “Lifestyles of the single dad, more like.”

  She smirked. James might see himself as normal, but the facts said otherwise. He’d gotten drafted out of college into the NFL and fifteen years later, was still at it. He was one of the most celebrated quarterbacks in NFL history and had the salary to match. It only stood to reason that a man of his talent level would attract someone equally accomplished—and hot. Daisy had been at the wedding, and Mary had seemed like the whole package—former swimsuit model, lithe and busty, and then an eventual doting mom and entrepreneur. James probably felt like the same old non-cosmopolitan guy he’d been growing up, but he’d entered the echelon of lifetime achievement athletes and now had an international ex-wife doing god knew what in Singapore.