Free Intercepting Daisy by Julie Brannagh Page A

criticized by sports fans.
    Speaking of money, her earnings from Overtime Parking weren’t going away either. She never thought she was going to have to account for or pay taxes on the $50,000 in royalties that had landed in her checking account over the past month. Maybe she should give the money to charity. Or, maybe she should sock it away as something to live on when the airline found out that she’d done something this dumb.
    Maybe the airline wouldn’t care. And maybe pigs might take up flying.
    She threw herself down on her bed, aimed toward the walk-in closet, and booted her shoes off, which landed with a satisfying thump. Right now, a little TV sounded a lot more fun than doing a load of laundry or emptying the dishwasher. She grabbed the remote off of her bedside table, pointed it toward the TV, and hit the power button.
    The local news came on. She recognized one of the women sitting behind the anchor desk. Daisy had met Harley on a flight before, but they’d never actually had a conversation.
    â€œThe Sharks are preparing for Sunday night’s nationally televised game, but that’s not the only thing on their minds. Sources have told KIXI that the author who came forward to claim responsibility for publishing a racy book about the Sharks backup quarterback, Grant Parker, is not the actual author. We tried to obtain more information from the publisher in question, but they cite confidentiality issues. We’ll have more news as it becomes available.”
    A dark-haired female news anchor’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Why should Sharks fans want to know who’s responsible for the book?”
    â€œThe Sharks’ PR group has spent years assuring fans that Grant Parker is a great role model for their kids. What if he’s not? And how will this affect the Sharks’ locker room? You have to admit it’s juicy.”

Chapter Nine
    G RANT STROLLED INTO the Sharks’ locker room the morning after his date with Daisy to a knot of teammates waiting for him at his locker.
    â€œGuys,” he said. “What’s up?”
    â€œYou had dinner with Daisy the flight attendant last night,” Clay Morrison said.
    He didn’t bother asking them how they found out. Social media never slept.
    â€œYes, I did. Is there a problem?” Grant said.
    â€œI’d like to take her out,” Clay said.
    â€œMaybe you should start shaving first,” Seth Taylor called out from across the room.
    The normally easygoing Clay clenched his hands into fists. Grant watched fresh color spreading up his neck, his ears, and his cheekbones.
    â€œI was shaving before your balls dropped,” Clay snapped. “Fuck off, Taylor.”
    The two men met in the middle of the locker room seconds later. Seth poked a finger into Clay’s chest.
    â€œYou might want to settle down, son.”
    â€œI don’t think so,” Clay said.
    Caleb hurried over to grab Clay’s arm. “Take it easy,” the big man said. “You too, Seth.”
    â€œShe doesn’t wear a ring,” Clay said.
    â€œMaybe she’s not into guys,” one of the wide receivers called out.
    â€œShe went out with Parker, didn’t she?”
    â€œI’m still here,” Grant said. He kicked his street shoes off and dumped them into the bottom of his locker.
    â€œHow’d it go?” Kade Harrison said.
    â€œNone of your business,” Grant said.
    He grabbed some men’s leggings off one of the hangers in his locker and struggled into them. If he kept his muscles warm while he ran, it really cut down on cramping and injuries later. Right now, though, he’d like to get his ass out of here so he didn’t have to recap his date for these knuckleheads. He pulled on shorts over the leggings, stripped off the shirt he wore, and grabbed for a Heat Gear T-shirt and a hoodie. Late fall in Seattle wasn’t typically the nuts-freezing cold other