Perhaps it was time for Cade Morgan to get back on a football field.

* * *

AFTER THE GAME, Cade found a parking spot on a side street a few blocks from Brooke’s place. Hand in hand, they leisurely walked in the direction of her apartment.

She looked over at Cade, curious about something. “I saw you talking to Zach’s head coach in the parking lot. Congratulating him on his victory, I assume?”

He smiled, busted. “Okay, okay. Noah’s idea about coaching stuck with me. It’s no big deal—I’m just going to work with the quarterbacks for a couple of hours on Tuesday afternoons. Assuming there aren’t any emergencies I need to handle at work.”

“Will the kids have to call you ‘Coach Morgan’?”

“They will if they don’t want to run sprints and do bag drills the entire practice.”

Brooke chuckled at that. Then, out of the blue, she remembered something. “I can’t believe I forgot to tell you this. You’ll never guess what they served for breakfast on my flight out to Charlotte. A Denver omelette.”

Cade laughed. “Well, they are quite tasty.” He glanced at her sideways, his tone coy. “Now, did you ask if they always serve Denver omelettes, because that’s their thing, or if they tailor the breakfast to the specific passenger?”

“Ha, ha. You had that coming. Do I even want to know how many women before me enjoyed one of Cade Morgan’s Denver omelettes?”

“I can tell you who the last one will ever be.”

Brooke paused, quip raring to go, when the significance of those words hit her.

Oh.

Well, then.

She tugged Cade closer, then stood up on her toes and kissed him. “Nice save.”

They linked their fingers together, walking along Michigan Avenue, passing through the tree-lined courtyard adjacent to the historic Water Tower. It was a gorgeous late-summer night, with a warm breeze coming off the lake.

“Should we grab a late dinner?” Cade asked. “It’s Friday night, but I’m sure there’s some restaurant filled with over-caffeinated jackrabbits who would be more than happy to find a table for the illustrious Brooke Parker.”

“True. Although, it’s so nice outside tonight. Maybe instead we can find a wine bar with outdoor seating.”

“We could take my carriage there, Cinderella,” Cade joked, pointing in the direction of the horse-drawn carriages lined along the Water Tower courtyard, waiting with their tops down for passengers willing to shell out for a thirty-minute ride.

Brooke chuckled. Romantic, yes, but that was a little too touristy for their tastes.

Then it struck her.

“I just realized something,” she said. “We are one of those couples, walking hand in hand along Michigan Avenue, with no plans at all.” For two years she’d watched everyone else from her office window.

But now, here she was.

“So we are.” Cade let go of her hand and put his arm around her. He pulled her close, kissing the top of her head. “How does it feel?”

She turned and peered up at him, having only one answer to that.

“Perfect.”