Knox’s phone rang as he strode through his bedroom suite toward the hallway. He yanked his cell out, hoping he could either ignore the call or make it quick. Shelby wanted to ride horses before her quiet time this afternoon and his workout had taken longer than usual this morning. It was the off-season, but he still pushed himself extra hard. He loved being the best in the league at his position.

His pulse quickened as he thought about that maddening date he had scheduled tonight. It not only cut into his free time with his daughter; it was a serious threat to be as interested in an underhanded woman as he was in Miss Kahue. He’d endure the date tonight and never have to see her again.

He saw the name on the screen and sighed. He had to answer it. “Claire,” he greeted. He actually liked his agent, so he tried to soften his response. She was no-nonsense and had gotten him a huge contract when he transferred to the Titans from the Patriots.

“I heard all about the auction,” was what she opened with.

He turned back in to his suite, not wanting to go to Shelby’s room and have her wait while he was on a call, instead of being able to pick her up and hug her like he loved to do. “Yeah,” he said shortly.

“Did you really shut the bidding down because you growled, glared at all the bidders, and said, and I quote, ‘I’m only here for Scar and the vets. Can we please get this over with?’”

She actually laughed, which made him feel remotely better. He should’ve kept his smile on last night and made more money for the vets, but then maybe Miss Kahue wouldn’t have won the bid. Knox paced the room like a caged animal. Why did he care to see that gorgeous brunette again? She wanted to invade his home and exploit him and his daughter for her reality show. He blew out a breath. Despite his misgivings, there was something about the way she held his gaze that really intrigued him. Dang woman.

“I did say that,” he admitted.

“Oh, Knox. It’s a good thing you can sack any quarterback you set your sights on. We’re definitely not winning any PR points.”

Knox paced past the French doors that led to his patio overlooking miles of his own property—horses, green fields, wooded sections, his lake, state-of-the-art barns, and guesthouses for his staff and friends. Okay, he didn’t have any friends, but his staff appreciated the beautiful accommodations. Tyler had bestowed billions of dollars upon Knox and Shelby, and Knox had only increased the fortune, adding salary and sponsorships and investing in stocks, bonds, start-up companies, and hard-money loans. Knox played football because he loved it and couldn’t get it out of his blood, not for the money. Why did he need PR points? “What do I care?” he asked.

Claire sighed. “Oh, Knox, it’s heavy.”

He chuckled. Whenever he pushed her too far, she’d tell him it was “heavy.”

“You care,” she said pointedly, “because I had a representative from Wheaties contact me. They want to put your picture on the stinking Wheaties box. Does that mean nothing to you?”

Knox stopped pacing and sank down into a leather recliner. “Okay, that’s actually kind of cool.” He winced. Cool wasn’t a word he’d used in twenty years.

“Kind of cool?” Claire grunted. “You are a piece of work, my boy. Do you realize the gold-standard level of being on the Wheaties box? We choose your advertising after that. You call the shots. If you want to be a grumpy beast of an introvert after you secure Wheaties, nobody cares. They’d still beg to have you hold their cologne bottle.”

“I’m not holding any cologne bottles.” Knox put his foot down on crap like that. He’d done a little bit of advertising because it helped Claire and his team, but no cologne. Too cheesy.

“I know, I know. So what do you think?”

“About?”

“Wheaties!” she exploded. “Do you want it or not?”

Knox stood again, this time walking a little slower. He actually did want Wheaties. Every kid who dreamed of being an athlete wanted his face on the Wheaties box. He felt like he was twelve again, studying Emmitt Smith’s picture plastered on the front of the box as he pounded so many bowls of cereal his mom cussed him. His head had been in the clouds, imagining himself gracing that box someday. He nodded, then muttered, “Yeah.”

“Good. Thank you for allowing me to make you wealthy and make myself a decent living.”

Knox laughed again. He did like helping Claire. She was a good lady. Little did she know he didn’t need the money at all.

“So to start making ourselves appealing to Wheaties, we have to play nice with real people for a little while. Can you do that for me, Knox?”

“It’s heavy, Claire.”

“Tell me about it.” She laughed. “Now let’s talk about your date with Miss Kahue tonight. She’ll be allowed to bring her cameras in, and you’ll smile and show the world that handsome mug can do something besides knock down quarterbacks and glower at everybody.”

“No.” It burst out of him. He hated cameras, true, but for some insane reason, his real issue was that he just wanted the date to be him and Ema—er, Miss Kahue.

“Yes. No arguing. If it goes well, you’re going to invite her to your house on Monday to show the world how amazing of a dad you are.”

“No!” he roared. “Nobody’s recording Shelby.” His heart rate escalated and his muscles clenched. He would never exploit his daughter, not even for the Wheaties box. Tyler had trusted Knox to love and raise his daughter, to protect her from the world, especially from her own conniving mother. Knox would never throw Shelby’s sweet face out in the media where any predator could make her their target. The kidnapping attempt was over two years ago, when she was six months old, but he could still remember the terror of how close those men had come to stealing his daughter.

“Oh my giddiance, Knox. Nobody in this day and age cares if they show their kids to the world. Do you even watch YouTube?”

“I care.” Very few people knew about the kidnapping attempt, which was just as well. It had about devastated him. “If it goes well tonight, I’ll invite Ms. Kahue here on Monday. I’ll take her horseback riding and be a complete gentleman in front of the cameras, but you leave Shelby out of this.”

“Okay, okay. But you do realize the only time you’re nice is when Shelby is around?”

Knox really didn’t care to be nice to anyone but Shelby. He should’ve never let Claire meet his daughter, but last year he’d had an appointment with Claire he couldn’t miss and Genevieve had been sick and Nellie had been visiting grandbabies, so he’d stupidly brought Shelby along. Since then, Claire had come over for dinner and movie nights a few times. He and Genevieve had gone through lots of full-time nannies in Shelby’s first couple of years of life, but when nanny after nanny kept making passes at Knox, he and Genevieve had agreed they could raise Shelby with the two of them and some help from the staff they trusted, especially Nellie, their cook.

“I’ll be nice to Miss Kahue,” Knox continued, “but if she’s a snarky brat, we’ll find another way to show the world my house and life. I’ll let The Rising Star do an interview and photo spread, maybe a live Twitter feed or something annoying like they’ve been begging for.”

“Okay, okay. Give the woman a chance to show she’s not a snarky brat, though, all right? I kinda like her.”

Claire kinda liked Ema? Knox could see himself moving past kinda, if she wasn’t a conniving reality show host who wanted to exploit him to further her career.

“You got it.” He hung up the phone, stowed it in his pocket, and strode to Shelby’s suite next to his. He liked having her close and spent time with her any free minute he had. Thanks to Claire’s call, he was ten minutes short of time with her, so he needed to make this count.

He swung open her door and Shelby jumped out of Genevieve’s arms, where she’d been cuddled up, reading a book. “Daddy!” She squealed and ran at him, her blonde curls bouncing and her blue eyes all lit up. Anyone could see they weren’t biologically related with his bronzed skin and deep brown hair and eyes, but she was every bit his daughter.

Knox ran to meet her, sweeping her off her feet and tossing her into the air. She giggled in delight. He pulled her in close and savored the scent of baby shampoo as he kissed her squishy cheek.

“I love you, Daddy!” She put her dimpled hands on each of his cheeks and said, “Me riding Flash today? Please, please, please!”

Knox chuckled. “Sorry, love. You have to ride Bubba, unless you want to ride with me on Flash.”

“Bubba’s too slow.” She drawled the words like only a Texas girl could.

“Then riding with Daddy it is.”

“No.” She scowled. “I a big girl. I ride my own horse!”

Genevieve walked over to them. “You’ll spoil her,” she said, but her warm smile at Shelby showed she loved his girl as much as Knox did. Genevieve had been his mother’s best friend and their neighbor growing up. She and her husband never had children of their own and had spoiled Knox and his two older sisters. Her husband, Tim, had passed away five years ago, shortly after Knox’s own mom and sister had been killed. When Knox returned to the States and officially adopted Shelby right after her birth, it had been the perfect arrangement to have Aunt Genny come live with them.

“It’s a struggle. That’s for sure.” He carried Shelby toward her walk-in closet to grab her boots. “I’ll be with her for quiet time and take her swimming after that,” he told Genevieve, disregarding the work he needed to do with the ranch, investments, and sponsorship garbage. Luckily, he had some pretty fabulous financial consultants and accountants who managed his money and Shelby’s. He kept her fortune separate, so she was an independent billionaire.

Hopefully he could somehow keep her grounded and humble as he raised her. Sometimes he worried that when her fortune transferred to her name at twenty-five, she’d turn into a mini-version of her self-serving mother. He shuddered. No. Not his sweet girl.

“But are you okay with her tonight?” he asked Genevieve.

“Of course. I love any time with my girl.”

Knox shifted Shelby to his right hand and scooped her boots off the floor with his left. She grabbed her cowboy hat off a nearby shelf and plunked it on her head, grinning at him. She was the most beautiful child he’d ever seen, but he was surely prejudiced.

When Knox walked back out of the closet, he found that Genevieve was shelving books. She turned and gave him a questioning glance. “What do you have tonight?”

Knox didn’t usually have any kind of social life. Going to the auction last night was stretching it, and when he was in town, especially in the off-season, he was home with Shelby. His staff was great with her, and Aunt Genny loved her like the grandchild she’d never have, but Shelby needed her daddy.

“A date … I mean, interview.” His neck got hot and he couldn’t meet Genevieve’s eyes.

“Well, well, well. I hope your date—I mean, interview—goes fabulous.”

Knox focused on her, grateful Shelby had no clue what a date was. “Don’t get any ideas, Aunt Gen. It’s just for work.”

She nodded, though her eyes were still hopeful. “All right. I’ll try not to get my hopes up.”

“Thanks.” Little did the public or Claire know that he was almost as soft with his adopted aunt as he was with his daughter. “Let’s go ride some horses,” Knox said to Shelby.

“Yay!” She kissed his cheek. “You’re my best, Daddy!”

Knox felt the emotion rise to his throat. After he lost Tyler and several others of his platoon to a land mine in Afghanistan, he hadn’t thought he’d ever find happiness again. He’d sworn to himself that he wouldn’t develop friendships that could be taken away by life’s tragedies. He hadn’t known that Tyler had restructured his will to bestow everything upon Knox, not wanting Paris or his siblings, who had their own fortunes, to have access to his daughter or his money. Tyler had asked him many a time that if anything happened to him, Knox would rescue his future child from his devious ex-wife and raise her as his own. Shelby had been born shortly after Tyler was killed and Paris had thrown a fit in the hospital because Knox refused to fall prey to her charms, but she’d quickly snatched up the huge payout, signed the papers, and never even touched her newborn daughter.

Shelby was the joy and focus of Knox’s life. The Lord took away, but he also gave, and Shelby was all Knox needed.

“You’re my best too, baby.”

“I’m not a baby,” Shelby protested.

Knox chuckled. He hugged her tight and hurried for the stairs, determined to enjoy the few hours he had with his girl before he had to face the determined and much-too-attractive Miss Kahue tonight.