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you think the rest of the team is doing?”
    â€œMost of them are married now.”
    â€œYeah, okay. If you think the single guys are going without, you’re nuts. So what’s the issue?”
    â€œOne of the local sportscasters seems to have found out about it. Harley McHugh—are you familiar with her?”
    â€œSportscaster Barbie? Who isn’t familiar with her? What did she say to you?”
    â€œI saw her downstairs earlier. She started asking some nosy questions about my social activities.”
    â€œHow many women you’ve slept with?”
    â€œThat’s the idea.”
    â€œYou’re using protection, you’ve been tested for STDs, and you haven’t fathered any children, right?”
    â€œYes. And no on the kids part.”
    Blake let out another long sigh. “Okay. I’m aware the Sharks’ front office fell in love with you because they thought you’d never have the kind of issues your predecessor had in Seattle. You’ve let them think you were playing along while you were doing something else. It’s not great, but you are an adult, and your social life is really not their business to begin with. Here’s the deal: we’re going to have to figure out how to minimize the damage if Sportscaster Barbie—oops, Ms. McHugh—actually stumbles onto something. Are you dating anyone right now?”
    â€œNot really.” Grant took another swallow of beer. “I asked one of the flight attendants on our charter for her number, but I haven’t called her yet.”
    â€œIt would be better if she had nothing to do with the team, but this is a good start. Is she a one-night stand, or would you be interested in dating her?”
    â€œI’d like to go out with her.”
    â€œWhich flight attendant?” Blake had been on the team’s charter flights before.
    â€œDaisy. She’s cute, blonde, and kind of funny. I think she might be into me.”
    â€œI remember her,” Blake said. “Call her tonight. Ask her out for this week. If you have anything in common, keep dating her. In public. I’ll work on what to do next.” He snorted a bit. “If she doodles your name on her Trapper Keeper, you’re in, buddy,”
    Grant closed his eyes with relief.
    â€œThey’re calling my flight, Parker. How about I talk to you tomorrow?”
    â€œYeah. There’s one more thing.”
    â€œWhat’s that?”
    â€œSomeone wrote a book about me.”

Chapter Six
    L ATE W EDNESDAY NIGHT , Daisy hip-checked the hotel room door open as she dragged her wheeled suitcase across the threshold. It had been a long day capped off by mechanical trouble with the flight home to Seattle she was supposed to work. She’d be staying overnight in Los Angeles tonight with the rest of the crew and heading home in the morning. She was looking forward to a quiet evening of room service and relaxation.
    Staying in and getting some rest was definitely counter to the old-fashioned stereotypes about flight attendants. Daisy was supposed to be out on the town, dancing at a club or tearing things up. She enjoyed having fun as much as the next woman, but right now, her feet hurt, and she wanted to spend an evening that didn’t involve dealing with someone’s screaming infant or unbelievably drunk people.
    She stared at her rollaway bag. Of course, she’d forgotten to bring her yoga mat. She’d started yoga a couple of years ago, after her doctor had encouraged her to try some gentle stretching each day. Yoga also helped when her schedule allowed her to play with the amateur soccer team she’d belonged to for four years now. She was an alternate goalkeeper, which meant she had something in common with Grant Parker: she woke up the day after a game aching all over. She was going to play as long as she could hobble out onto the pitch.
    She dropped her tote bag onto the bed and sank down next to it.