He pressed his finger to her lips, cutting her off. Maybe she didn’t want to hear it, and maybe he was indeed going to look like a jackass at the end of this. But he was going to say what he needed to say regardless. “I love you. On intense days. On good days. On long, exhausting workdays. On really strange days when I find out that I have a long-lost brother. And most of all, on days when you make me smile, which happens to be every day I’m with you.” He gazed deep into her eyes. “You are not just a big-picture girl for me, Brooke Parker. You’re the only picture.”

She touched his face, her eyes turning misty. “Cade—”

“You’ve got this job offer in Charlotte. I know. But if you want, that’s something we can figure out together. I made a commitment to Cameron, so I need to stay in Chicago until she’s back from maternity leave. But after that, I can—”

“I didn’t take the job in Charlotte.”

“Oh. Right.” He exhaled, trying to catch up to speed. “Well. You should know that I had at least two minutes left on that speech. Really quality stuff.”

“Sorry. I just thought this might be a good time to mention that I love you, too.” She made a rolling gesture. “But, please—carry on.”

He grinned. Sassy as ever. He took her hand, armed with this information, and backed her against the brick wall. “You love me?”

With a smile curling at the edges of her lips, she gazed up at him. “Yes. These past two weeks, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about what I want in my life. And somehow, you ended up at the top of that list.”

He lowered his head. “It’s because your subconscious finds my subconscious irresistible,” he said huskily.

“I have no clue what that means,” she murmured against his mouth.

“For starters, it means I’m going to kiss you.”

And that’s exactly what he did.

They kissed for a long time in that alley, the rest of the world bustling by on the sidewalks and streets just a few feet away, but for that moment, pressed against the bricks, it was just the two of them. Nothing else mattered.

Afterward, they walked the five blocks to Brooke’s apartment, where Cade told her about his conversation with Noah.

“Do you want to see him again?” she asked, putting a Band-Aid on his split knuckle.

“No.” Cade sighed, and then nodded. “Yes.”

Later, they lay wrapped around each other on the couch, and Brooke told him about her trip to Charlotte and her subsequent discussion with Ian.

“Afterward, when I was celebrating with Ford, I kept thinking that you should’ve been there, too.” She shifted, sitting up halfway so that she could look him in the eyes. “I missed you these past two weeks. So much.”

It was the heartfelt way she said it, the way her voice turned throaty with emotion. As much as he loved the quips and the inside jokes, it was this moment, when her walls were down and he saw her softer, vulnerable side, when she just melted him.

He reached up and touched her cheek. “Let’s not do that again.”

“Be apart for two weeks?” She slid her arms around his neck. “I agree.”

Well, yes. But he was talking about something more than that. “No, I mean what got us to that point.” He held her gaze. “No more tough-girl or tough-guy routines. At least, not between us. I want to be in the inner circle, Brooke.” He realized what that meant—that he’d be letting her in, too.

And as he lay there with her, he knew there was nothing he’d ever wanted more.

In answer, she took his hand and placed it on her chest. Right over her heart. “You’re in, Cade Morgan. Only you.”

Yep, that pretty much made it official.

When it came to Brooke Parker of Sterling Restaurants, he was a goner.

Thirty-five

Three weeks later.


“SO, UNFORTUNATELY, THE concession stand did not have beef tenderloin, shrimp kabobs, or that fancy Sterling Restaurants dessert cart. But, fret not, because I was able to snag you . . .” With a flourish, Cade pulled two things out from behind his back. “This lukewarm, rubbery hot dog and this Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup—the twin pack. How’s that for fine dining?”

“Yes on the twin pack,” Brooke said. “No on the bun-wrapped trip to the emergency room to get my stomach pumped.”

“My, somebody’s quite a hot-dog snob.”

“An occupational hazard when one is part owner of a premiere restaurant company with a rapidly expanding and increasingly lucrative sports and entertainment division,” Brooke said, with a proud flick of her ponytail.

“Still subtly slipping that in there, I see.”

“You betcha.” She was in a particularly good mood tonight, seeing how, just this afternoon, she’d hired the in-house lawyer who would be taking on some of her responsibilities. He wouldn’t start at Sterling for another two weeks, but change was on the horizon. She’d left work at six o’clock on a Friday night—possibly with a few heart palpitations on her way out the door, but she’d persevered—and now she had the whole night free to spend with Cade.

Or, rather, with Cade plus five hundred rabid high school football fans dressed in maroon and gold.

Brooke’s eyes scanned the stands. “Wow. I didn’t expect it to be so packed.”

“Zach said that the team they’re playing tonight is his school’s rival,” Cade said.

They spotted Noah and his wife, Tracy, about halfway up the bleachers. Cade linked his fingers through Brooke’s and headed in that direction.

Over the last three weeks, Cade and his father had made progress in getting to know one another. The initial step had been the most difficult and awkward, with neither man knowing exactly how to make the first move. Fortunately, Zach had intervened once again, suggesting the three of them meet for dinner at a restaurant not far from the Garritys’ house—and then had remembered at the last minute that he had a “late practice,” and had suggested that Cade and Noah carry on without him.

“I like this kid’s style,” Brooke had said, chuckling, when Cade had told her about the obvious setup.

When Cade had finished grumbling, he’d admitted the dinner wasn’t “too terrible.”

“In some senses, it was easier not having Zach there,” he’d said. “We just talked about him the whole time.” He’d paused. “And about how Noah’s treatment is going.”

The bitter part of this bittersweet reunion, of course, was that it was finite in duration. Although Noah was currently asymptomatic, the doctors had explained that the radiation and steroid treatment was only buying them time and that, in the not-too-distant future, the tumor on Noah’s brain stem would grow and begin to impair his motor skills and respiratory functions. Nevertheless, Noah had laid down the law: people weren’t going to spend every moment dwelling on his cancer—they were going to enjoy the time they had left together, for as long as they could.

“Noah, Tracy, good to see you again,” Brooke said when they reached their row. She and Cade took the open seats next to them, and everyone made pleasant—even if still a little awkward—chitchat. Noah asked Cade about work, and Brooke saw the look of pride on his face when Cade talked about his new responsibilities as acting U.S. attorney, a transition that had taken effect earlier in the week when Cade’s boss, Cameron, had gone into labor in the middle of a Potbelly Sandwich Shop—and, nine hours later, had delivered a healthy baby boy named William “Will” James Pallas.

Not too long after Brooke and Cade had arrived, the game started. And from that moment on, all work chatter stopped, the outside world ceased to exist, and football became life itself.

As Brooke sat in those stands that night, she was reminded of something Ian had told her—while watching a game, we could hang out and yell and cheer and just be a father and son again. Cade and Noah might not have been at that point, but talking about football certainly helped bridge the gap between them. At times, in fact, they actually seemed to be having fun together.

And beyond that, wow, did she ever see a new side of Cade that night. He paced, he was on his feet nearly the entire time, and he had this really intense game face that was . . . kind of hot.

Late in the third quarter, Zach got tackled four yards behind the line of scrimmage, and apparently this was the last straw for Cade.

“A reverse on fourth and one? Come on!” He threw up his hands in exasperation. “The defense hasn’t stopped a single slant pass to Zach all night. Or if you’re going to run the ball, at least go up the middle.” He gestured to the field. “Hell, I could coach these kids better than that.”

“Maybe you should, then.”

The words came from Noah, sitting next to Cade.

Cade half-chuckled at that. “Yeah, right.” He looked over at Noah and then pulled back. “You’re being serious?”

Noah shrugged casually. “Just seems like you’re getting a little twitchy up here in these stands.”

“I’m just excited about the game, like everyone else here.” Cade threw Brooke a look. Can you believe this guy?

“Actually, you do seem a little twitchy,” she said.

He glared. “Et tu, Ms. Parker? I’m a prosecutor. I don’t have time to coach a football team.”

“Maybe not full-time,” Noah said. “But I’m sure that any Chicago public school would be more than happy to have a former Rose Bowl champ come in occasionally and talk to the team.”

Cade fell quiet at that, and Brooke could see the spark of interest in his eyes. She smiled to herself, thinking that Noah may have been onto something.