Free Grinder (Seattle Sharks Book 1) by Samantha Whiskey

the ice.
    Holy shit. We won.
    “We shut those fuckers out!” Rory yelled.
    “Hell yes!” Warren answered.
    Every cell in my body hummed with energy, and I pulled out of the huddle to skate toward the ice. My girls were sitting right next to the glass, and Lettie met my hand with her own as I held it to the barrier. “My Daddy is a badass!” She yelled, her little blue eyes dancing with excitement.
    Well, looked like I needed to talk to the guys about watching their fucking mouths around my baby girl.
    “I love you, too, Lettie,” I said, unable to keep from grinning.
    I looked up at Bailey and her thousand-watt smile blew me away. She was so beautiful with her cheeks flushed rosy from the chill in the rink, my little girl on her lap and my number on her back.
    I tossed her a wink and skated back over to shake hands with the opposing team.
    We’d started the season with a shut-out and I’d been on the starting line up.
    Sorry, Rookie.  
    I patted the kid’s head as I passed him in the locker room a few minutes later. “You’re getting there, kid.”
    “Yeah. Good game, McPherson,” he begrudgingly congratulated me.
    “Damn skippy it was,” Warren said.
    “And here we go,” Rory said, nodding toward the reporters that slipped into the locker room.
    “McPherson!” the female reporter said, hopping over a pile of Rory’s gear with spiked heels.
    Damn, couldn’t I even get out of my gear before they came in? Not like reporters in the locker room bothered other guys. Hell, Denison was over there with no pants on.
    Then again, he didn’t have a kid at home, and the last thing I wanted Lettie to find on the net in ten years was a shot of her old man’s dick.
    Pants on.
    “Can I get a moment?” The blonde asked, waving her microphone with a smile.
    “Sure,” I responded and stood.
    She asked the normal questions. How was my shoulder? To what did I credit our victory? What did I have in mind for the rest of the season?
    I gave the rote answers about teamwork, the strength of my shoulder, and my optimistic outlook.
    Once she was done, I showered and dressed as quickly as possible.
    “You’re coming tonight, right?” Rory asked as we took our bags from the locker room.
    “What?”
    “Do not pull that shit,” he threatened. “It’s the first game, the first victory, and we’re going out tonight.”
    I grimaced in apology. “Man, I have Lettie.” And Bailey.
    “And a nanny. Come on, it’s tradition,” Warren countered.
    “He doesn’t want to leave the nanny,” Rory stage-whispered.
    “Shut the fuck up. What are you, twelve?”
    Rory shrugged. “Truth, man.”
    I looked up, saw my girls leaned against the wall with the other families, and my heart did a little flip at how...right that looked.
    And then I saw my mother chatting Bailey’s ear off. Lord have mercy.
    She was a little over fifty, but I swear the woman only looked forty. She had that classic, raven-haired beauty most women paid top dollar for, with a class that you couldn’t put a pricetag on. She’d also been the one to take care of me and Lettie when Helen walked out while I was still in recovery.
    “I’m not making any promises,” I said to the guys as we made our way to the girls.
    “Tell him he has to go, Mrs. M,” Warren asked, giving my mother a charming smile.
    She arched an eyebrow. “Has to go where?”
    “Hi, Mama,” I said, kissing her soft cheek at the same moment Lettie attacked my leg.
    “You played phenomenally,” Mom answered with a smile.
    “What do you think, Lettie-Lou?” I asked as I lifted Lettie into my arms. She gave me a resounding smack of a kiss on my cheek but leaned back when I tried to do the same.
    “You’ll mess my warpaint,” she said, pursing her tiny lips in a way that reminded me way too much of Bailey.
    I noted the black streaks under her eyes that had my number drawn in. “We can’t have that,” I said and growled at her neck as she giggled.
    I looked up and met Bailey’s