Because wasn’t that the issue? Daisy was horning in on his focus because he was trying so hard to not go there. So if he went there—at the right time, in the right way, after other obligations were satisfied—then it might improve his performance overall.

  Yes, it reeked of rationalization, and he knew it. But at this point, there was no other way forward. Daisy was coming over to his house, and he wanted her there. He wanted to go so much further than they’d gone the other night. All it took was seeing her again to erase all the resolve he’d accumulated after his brutal practice. Clearly, avoidance was not the answer.

  So why not dive in headfirst?

  Besides, who was to say things would necessarily continue? Now he was laying the rationalizations on thicker. Building them up, layer by layer, to see if they would stick. Maybe he and Daisy would hang out a couple more times and decide this wasn’t right. Maybe the chemistry would fizzle.

  Or maybe you already know she’s exactly the type of woman you could fall for.

  He pushed the thought out of his head. He didn’t want to go there right now—it presented too many obstacles and complications. He’d be better off taking this venture with her one shaky, questionable step at a time.

  When he got home, Emma and Iris were in the kitchen, Emma working on homework while Iris cleaned up after snack time. They chatted a bit about the day before Iris went home, and then James headed to the fridge to start thinking about dinner.

  “So guess what, honey?” James eyeballed the different vegetables and meats he had at his disposal for tonight’s dinner, wondering if he should go with a crowd favorite—lasagna—or go out on a limb for their special guest. “I invited Daisy over for dinner.”

  Emma gasped, her eyes lighting up. “Yay!”

  “And better yet, she has something for you.”

  “Oooh, what is it?”

  “Can’t tell you. But in exchange for organizing tonight’s dinner…I need you to tell me what we should eat.”

  Emma pursed her lips while she thought, tapping her pencil against her chin. “Ummm…lasagna.”

  “That’s what I thought.” He clapped his hands together and got to prepping while Emma continued her homework. He used a family recipe that was more of a hack-job lasagna, but it was delicious and filling, so who cared?

  As he cooked, Daisy texted to let him know that she was on the way with a bottle of wine. When he responded that he’d happily watch her drink it, she replied, Or we can save it for the off-season?

  Those words echoed in his head for the next twenty minutes. Save it for the off-season. Who was he kidding? This infatuation with Daisy would be lasting well into the off-season. Potentially much longer than that. And even though he could tell he was heading for trouble, he only wanted to go full-steam ahead.

  An hour later, James, Emma, and Daisy were enjoying his hack-job lasagna while watching the ballet video Daisy had brought over. It felt like she’d always been here at the table with them, from the way Emma opened up to her and how easy it was to carry a conversation.

  “So how did your photoshoot go on Monday?” James asked. He’d been denying himself the urge to text her and ask for a copy of whatever pictures had come out of it.

  “It was great,” Daisy said, crossing her legs. James noticed the movement each time she did it, strictly because she was wearing jean shorts that showed off her amazing legs. “And the interview we did last week is already written up, too. I think it’s gonna be a nice spread.”

  “What were you interviewed for?” Emma asked, tilting her head to look at Daisy.

  “A big sports magazine wanted to do a feature on me as a female NFL coach,” she said, sending his daughter a winning smile. He could feel the pride behind her words, and it made his heart swell. “We talked about what it’s like to work in a male-dominated industry and what sort of steps I took to make it there.”

  Emma’s eyes widened, and James could see the gears turning behind her eyes. “Can I read it?”

  “I’ll bring you a copy when it’s published. But for now, I just have the proof on my phone. Want to see that?”

  James ate happily while Daisy scooted her chair closer to Emma so they could scroll through her phone and check out the article. Emma had plenty of questions—what was it like for her in school, did she always know what she wanted to be when she grew up—and James was more than content listening to them get lost in conversation.

  After they finished the article, James asked, “So can I see the proof too?”

  “VIP only,” Daisy teased, pretending to pocket her phone, which made Emma giggle. Then she slid the phone across the table. “As long as you promise not to out the article early on social media.”

  “I have TMZ waiting in the wings as we speak,” James said wryly, taking the phone from her. He zoomed in on the photos, loving the sexy yet sporty look they’d chosen for her that day—dark eye makeup, pink lips, and her thick hair pulled up into a French braid with tendrils framing her face. She was absolutely glowing.

  “Send me copies of those pictures?” he asked with a wink as he handed the phone back to her.

  A mischievous smile tugged at her lips. “We’ll see about that.”

  “Hey, Daisy,” Emma said, twirling the end of her hair, “can you come in for career day at my school? It’s tomorrow.”

  James lifted a brow. It was an annual tradition of theirs—James showed up on Emma’s arm to regale the class with what he did for a living. It was always fun, and he’d fully planned on this being yet another year of wowing the kids. But he was being replaced, and he was actually impressed with the choice.

  “Career day?” Daisy asked.

  “Yeah, you come to my school with me and just talk to my class about stuff.” Emma shrugged, glancing at James. Then her eyes widened, as though she was suddenly realizing the implication of her question. “My dad always goes but I thought—it might be cool to, you know, maybe if someone else—”

  “Honey, I fully support your decision to ask Daisy. I’m sure your classmates are tired of hearing about how I throw a football each Sunday.” He lowered his chin, seeking out Emma’s gaze. “Just make sure she’s okay with you asking last minute like this.”

  “Is it okay that I asked you last minute?” Emma asked quietly, the hopefulness pouring out of her.

  Daisy touched her chest, sending a meaningful look to James before focusing on his daughter again. “Emma, I’m honored. That would be so special. I’d love to.”

  Emma looked supremely pleased, clapping her hands excitedly. “Yay! Okay, I’m gonna clean up the table now.” She hurried to collect plates and silverware.

  “Do you want me to help?” Daisy offered.

  “No, this is my job when Dad cooks,” Emma explained. “And he told me you’re the guest so you’re not allowed.”

  James laughed. “Those are the Sullivan house rules. Different from the Katrakis house rules, I know.”

  Daisy narrowed her eyes. “We Greeks have no problem putting our guests to work, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

  “I’m okay with it. The kitchen is the place to be after a meal at your house anyway.”

  Daisy’s brow lifted, and he knew she’d caught his meaning. But he didn’t plan on pushing the envelope too much now—not when Emma was there.

  James offered up ice cream for dessert, which only Emma wanted. The three of them chatted about various things—school, football playoffs, silly videos from YouTube—until James announced it was time for Emma to go take a shower and start getting ready for bed.

  When it was just the two of them, Daisy watched him intently from across the table, turning a napkin ring over and over between her fingers.

  “Are you sure you don’t mind that I go to Emma’s career day?” Daisy asked suddenly. “I don’t want to step on your toes.”

  “I think it’s an awesome idea. I’m glad to see her getting excited about school. You really helped turn that around, by the way.”

  “I’m glad to hear that. You know I’m always happy to help.”

  “I hate to even say that I need the help,” he admitted, the words rushing out of him like a confession. “It’s been hard since her mom moved abroad, can’t lie.”

  Daisy softened. “That must be incredibly rough. Emma seems to be handling it well, though, for what the situation is.”

  “I think it’s still new for her. She’s excited about the extended vacations, so there’s that. Mary used to manage homework help and dinner, so it was easier during the season. Away games are the worst, now. I usually try to arrange a sleepover with a friend for one night and the nanny stays over the other, but damn. I hate that it feels like the nanny is her mother.”

  “I think you’re doing an amazing job,” Daisy said, reaching across the table to squeeze his wrist. “And you know I’m always here to help. You’re like family to me. I’d do anything I could to help you.”

  His gaze landed on her matte black fingernails as they scraped lightly against his skin. Just glimpsing her hand on him had his mind headed right back to those pictures from her photo shoot. Her sexy one piece at the pool the other day. The scorching kisses they’d shared at her place.

  “I appreciate that,” he said, covering her hand with his. “But we need to focus on the real task ahead of us now.”

  “Which is…?”

  “What we should do while we’re kid-free.”

  She smirked in return. “I have a few ideas.”

  “Should I take you into the kitchen for them?”

  Daisy’s grin stretched a mile wide. “I wouldn’t mind that one bit.”

  James wet his bottom lip, feeling his cock twitch in anticipation. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d kissed a woman so passionately, and he was eager to taste her again. He’d gone from soft to rock hard in one second flat. And just getting lost in her brown eyes was having the same effect on him tonight.

  He pushed up from his seat, heading to her side of the table to grab her hand and lead her into the kitchen. Once there, he hoisted her by the hips as if she weighed nothing and set her on the granite countertop. She giggled, her arms going around his neck.

  “You sure you’re okay with this?” he asked, his gaze trekking across her face, over those impossibly perfect lips, the feminine curve of her neck. “Because once I start, I can’t promise I’ll stop.”

  “I’m more than okay with this.” Her voice came out a husky whisper, and he surged forward, capturing her lips in a kiss. Intensity exploded between them, her mouth parting to welcome his tongue. Deep, thorough kisses emerged, each one better than the last. She whimpered as they kissed, which only made his cock harder. He dug his fingertips into her hips, relishing the fleshiness there, then he pushed his hands around to find the roundness of her ass.

  “Ohh my god, James,” she moaned softly through a kiss. He jerked her by the hips, sealing her body against his. Her legs went around his torso, and he couldn’t help but rock against her.

  She inhaled sharply, the knee-jerk reaction telling him she liked where this was headed. They’d gone from zero to one hundred, confirming that they’d both been simmering in this vat of passion for longer than they’d realized. He trailed kisses up her jawline, heading for her earlobe. Goose bumps flared across her skin.

  “I’ve been waiting to do this for so long,” he murmured as he pressed small kisses to her cheeks, then back down to her mouth.

  “God, me too,” she breathed, clutching at the front of his shirt. She was pure passion unraveling, sultry yet sweet. Their chemistry could only increase from here. There was no chance of this fizzling. Not when she reacted like this. Not when she was practically begging for it. “For…years, maybe,” she blurted.

  He smiled through a kiss, dragging his fingertips along her jawline. “Did you have a crush on me back in high school?”

  “No,” she said defensively. And then, after a pause, “Of course I did. How could I have not?”

  This pleased him to no end. He’d noticed her, but she never really registered on his radar. The age difference seemed enormous back then.

  He chuckled through another kiss, and she tightened her legs around him. He exhaled slowly, moving his hands to the swell of her hips. He looked down at their bodies pressed together. Calculating how far they might be able to take it with how much time they had while Emma got ready for bed.

  It couldn’t happen tonight. Not when work was waiting tomorrow. Not when awkward moments awaited them if Emma woke up in the middle of the night or needed something.

  “Do you know how bad I want to take these off of you?” he murmured, hooking his thumbs through the belt loops of her shorts. He trailed a hand down the smooth length of her calf. “Every time you crossed your legs during dinner, I noticed.”

  She bit at her bottom lip, pressing her forehead to his. “Let’s not even start with all the different things we wanna do to each other. It’ll just make going home that much harder.”

  He grunted softly, seeking another kiss. When they broke for air, he scooped her ass cheeks into his palms and squeezed.

  “Emma will be out of the shower soon, and I’ll have to go be Dad again,” he whispered.

  “I know. That’s what you need to do.”

  “But more kisses first,” he said and then dove in for another passionate, breathtaking round. She giggled, especially when he pushed his hands up past the cotton hem of her V-neck tee, his fingers brushing the warm skin beneath. He felt the firm plane of her belly, the sharp dip of her waist. He was eager to push up into the heavenly warmth beneath her bra when he heard a door shut upstairs, which meant Emma was ready.

  He broke for air, nuzzling her nose. “I think that’s my cue.”

  “Okay, Daddy Sullivan.” She smoothed her palms over the tops of his shoulders, gaze glued to his mouth. “Go be the DILF.”

  His brows shot up. “Oh yeah? I’m a DILF now?”

  “The hottest one there is,” she said, and then silenced him with one last kiss.

  8

  Daisy was staring down a classroom of twenty-five eager nine-year-olds.

  She almost couldn’t believe she was here, smiling out at the next generation, sending a special wink to Emma. In fact, most of what had happened since getting hired by the Sharks felt like a dream: becoming a coach in the NFL, being interviewed and photographed, sharing her career with fourth graders.

  That didn’t even begin to get into the agonizingly hot make-out session she’d had on James Sullivan’s kitchen counter. That, of all the things, was maybe the most surreal.

  “Are there any questions for Ms. Katrakis?” the classroom teacher, Ms. Pinellas, asked after Daisy had wrapped up her presentation.

  A few hands shot up. Mr. Pinellas picked on the kids at random to ask their questions.

  How many football players do you know?

  What happens when they lose games?

  Do you know any other female coaches yet?

  One little girl raised her hand and asked, “Do you have any kids of your own yet?”

  “I don’t,” Daisy said with a big smile. But before the teacher could call on someone else, the little girl continued.

  “Are you married?”

  “I’m not,” Daisy replied, forcing herself not to add on yet.

  “Why aren’t you?” the girl barreled on.

  Daisy laughed, realizing just how many sets of eyes were boring into her with this question. She understood—that was the normal path, and these girls were at the age of questioning everything. But just as she was about to gloss over the question with a standard response about not finding the right person, she noticed Emma watching her as though she was deeply invested in the question.

  Daisy and James weren’t a thing technically, but with how curious Emma looked right now, maybe she wondered what was going on between her father and Daisy. It would be a perfectly reasonable assumption—they’d had two dinners together in the span of a week, including one that saw Emma meeting Daisy’s parents. Hell, they practically were dating and just hadn’t slapped a title on it.

  She couldn’t hurt Emma’s feelings by dismissing the topic so blithely as she’d planned. So she had to pivot.

  “Falling in love,” Daisy said, “is a lot like dessert. You have to wait for it to come at just the right time. But when it finally comes, it is sooo worth it. After all, who doesn’t love ice cream after a good meal on a summer evening?”

  This seemed to please the little girl, who beamed at Daisy. Emma too looked relieved, though Daisy wasn’t entirely sure she’d made sense. She hadn’t expected to be challenged like this during a fourth-grade career day, so she tried not to blame herself for floundering a little.

  After a few more questions, Daisy was free to go. She waved at all the kids, winking again at Emma, and let herself out of the classroom. She checked her phone as she hurried through the hall, needing to head back to work. A slew of notifications awaited her, most of them from her social media profiles.

  She’d been tagged. A lot. She waited until she’d made it back to her car before checking things out. Usernames she didn’t recognize and had never interacted with before had tagged her up and down in relation to some video. When she finally clicked a link, a video sprang up from the show of a popular sports commentator, Chuck Zoom. It didn’t take long for her to figure out why she’d been tagged and dragged into the spotlight.

  Chuck Zoom had made Daisy the focal point of his segment. Specifically, the “desperate decision” of Coach Scooter to bring on a new conditioning coach midway through the season, someone who’d only ever worked with “college kids and after-school clinics.”

  The more this man ranted about her lack of experience, the angrier she got. She watched it two more times, just to get clear on his complaints. By the time she’d had enough, her blood was boiling and she needed to vent. She called her brother as she sat idling in the parking lot of Emma’s school.

  “Hey, Margie,” Alex said.

  “Alex, you got a minute?”

  “Sure. You sound angry. What happened?”