Authors: Julie James
Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #General
Deep down Cade knew, as his relationship with Zach grew, that one day he would have to face his father. But that day was still a long way out. For now, he wanted to focus on Zach. His brother lived on the south side of the city, in a neighborhood of modest homes that had been built right after World War II. Cade was familiar enough with the area to know that it was relatively safe, and that the football team at the public high school Zach attended was one of the best in Chicago. He’d bet that was one of the reasons Noah had chosen this particular neighborhood.
Cade stood midfield, waiting for Zach to take his place at the line of scrimmage.
“When’s the last time you threw a football?” Zach asked worriedly.
Aside from the few times Cade had tossed one around casually with friends, a long time. “About twelve years.”
Zach threw him a panicked look.
“I won’t push it,” Cade said. It wasn’t as if his shoulder was entirely unusable; in fact, on a daily basis it didn’t bother him at all. His rotator cuff simply couldn’t withstand the repetitive stress of competitive football. “I just want to see what I can do.” He pointed emphatically. “And if the answer is ‘not much,’ you better not tell a soul. I’ve got a reputation to uphold here.”
Zach smiled, loosening up. “All right. I don’t want to stand in the way of you reliving your glory days or whatever.”
“Good. But in case this all goes south, my car keys are in the outside pocket of my duffle bag. When you drive me to the emergency room, if I’m too busy mumbling incoherently from the pain, just tell them I’ve got Blue Cross Blue Shield insurance.”
Zach’s eyes went wide.
“I’m kidding, Zach. Now get moving.”
They started with shorter routes, with Cade faking the hike and dropping back while Zach sprinted for the pass. He pushed Zach hard that morning, just like every coach had ever pushed him, but he knew the kid could take it. He saw how good Zach was—so much so, that it got Cade’s own competitive juices flowing. Luckily, he’d kept in shape over the years, lifting weights, swimming, and running, so he was primed to be back on that field, every muscle in his body ready and raring to go.
Save one.
After an hour or so, Cade felt the soreness creeping into his right shoulder. “Why don’t we take a break?” he suggested to Zach.
They grabbed a couple of bottled waters from Cade’s duffle bag and sat in the grass. The field they were playing on that morning wasn’t much to speak of, with its view of the warehouse and the adjacent empty parking lot, but there was open space and lots of grass. Two guys playing football on a Saturday afternoon didn’t need much more.
“How long have you lived in this neighborhood?” he asked.
“Since I was five,” Zach said. “We’d been living in an apartment on the west side before that, but then my dad got a new job that paid enough for us to buy a house here.”
Cade debated where he wanted to take the conversation from there. He looked across the field, keeping his tone casual. “What does Noah do for a living these days?”
“He’s a night security guard at Water Tower Place. My mom also works, as a customer service rep for ComEd.” Zach plucked at the grass. “I told her about you.”
Cade tried to picture this unknown woman for whom Noah had apparently settled down. He felt a flash of protectiveness toward his own mother, who’d had to do everything on her own. “How’d that go over?”
“She thought it was great that you and I were spending time together.” Zach paused. “She’d like to meet you.”
Cade took another sip of water, grateful that the sunglasses he wore hid the uncertainty he felt. He deliberately kept his voice cool. “Does Noah know we’re talking?”
“No. But I know he’d like to see you, too,” Zach added quietly.
Cade looked out at the field again, having serious doubts about that one. He deliberately changed the subject. “How are things going with Paige?”
A flicker of disappointment crossed Zach’s face. Probably, he’d been hoping to talk more about their father. But despite the fact that Cade was quickly growing closer to Zach, there were limits on how far he was willing to go when it came to Noah Garrity.
“I bought some book of poetry I saw at the bookstore. One that didn’t look totally uncool,” Zach said. “But it’s been a busy week. I haven’t had a chance to give it to Paige yet.”
Busy week? The kid was on summer vacation. From the way Zach was squirming right then, Cade had a sneaking suspicion his brother was still nervous about talking to the girl. “You said she works at an ice-cream shop around here, right?” He made a big show of wiping the sweat off his brow. “Come to think of it, a nice double cone would really hit the spot in this heat.”
Zach’s expression was one of pure teenage mortification. “Yeah, because that’s exactly what will help my inability to talk to her—my older brother watching and critiquing all my moves.”
“I thought we’d already established that you don’t have any moves.”
“Now that’s funny. Picking on someone half your age. Hey, here’s an idea: I’ll introduce you to Paige as soon as I meet this so-called smart, witty, and hot woman you’re supposedly seeing. Sounds a lot like one of those made-up girlfriends who live in Niagara Falls.”
“She’s real. I’m seeing her tonight, in fact.” They hadn’t decided their specific plans yet, but Brooke
had texted him last night, asking if he was free.
“Wow. You actually, like,
beamed
when you said that.”
“Get out of here,” Cade scoffed. “I did not.”
“What’s her name?”
Cade opened his mouth to answer, then paused.
Zach grinned. “Worried you can’t say it without beaming again?”
Ridiculous
. “Her name is Brooke.” He deliberately maintained a straight face.
Zach made a big show of studying him, presumably looking for any sign of this alleged “beaming.” He stepped closer and then, with a comically scrutinizing face, slowly looked at one side of Cade’s face, and then the other.
Cade never cracked once.
Finally, Zach gave up. “Dude, I’m impressed. You need to show me that trick.” His cell phone suddenly rang from the backpack he’d left on the grass.
“What trick?” Cade asked. His prosecutorial, I-
ask
-the-questions-I-don’t-answer-them face? Just another trick in his trial arsenal, a close cousin to his equally impressive don’t- bullshit-me face.
“How to hide your true feelings so well.” With a sly grin, Zach reached across the grass and pulled the phone out of his backpack. “It’s my mom. I should probably take this.” He stood up and walked off a few feet to talk in private.
Cade watched as Zach answered the phone, his brother’s words still hanging in the air.
How to hide your true feelings so well.
He knew Zach had made the comment in jest, part of his teasing about Brooke. But, in reality, it wasn’t all that far off the mark.
I envy you
, he’d told Zach the first time they’d met.
Because I’m a mess?
No. Because you’re not afraid to be a mess.
Seeing that Zach was still talking to his mother, Cade reached over and pulled his cell phone out of the duffle bag.
He shot a quick text message to Brooke.
I’VE DECIDED THAT I’M TAKING YOU OUT FOR DINNER TONIGHT, CINDERELLA.
A few moments later, he got a reply.
THE SOON-TO-BE ACTING U.S. ATTORNEY HAS COMMANDED, AND SO IT SHALL BE.
He laughed at that. She was a saucy one, all right. He wrote back.
YOU ARE ALLOWED TO SHOW YOUR PLEASURE. PICK YOU UP AT 7:00.
She fired back a response.
7:30.
He smiled at the inside joke.
OF COURSE YOU WOULD SAY 7:30.
Cade tossed his phone into his bag just as Zach walked back over.
“Sorry about that.” Zach shoved his phone into his backpack and took a seat on the grass. “My mom needed to talk to me about a few things.”
“No problem.” Cade looked out at the field before them. He felt good right then, really good, which was probably what prompted him to look sideways at Zach and say what he did next. “I want you to do something for me.”
Zach shrugged earnestly. “Sure. What?”
“Go long,” Cade said, meeting his brother’s gaze through his sunglasses. “Just once.”
After a moment, Zach nodded. “Okay.”
Cade grabbed the football and stood up. He walked to the far end of the field, and watched as Zach took his place to the right of him, at the line of scrimmage.
“Blue Cross Blue Shield?” Zach called out.
“Yep.” In the zone now, Cade mentally readied himself and called the play. He faked the snap and dropped back.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Zach take off at top speed, and everything else faded away. He could still perfectly envision the wall of purple Wildcats jerseys in front of him, could hear the roar of the crowd that day in Pasadena. Mere seconds left on the clock, but this moment was his, the adrenaline pumping through his veins as his wide receiver headed for the end zone. In his peripheral vision he saw the linebacker charging around the line, gunning for the sack, but screw him—victory was so close he could taste it and nothing was going to get in his way. He pulled back and threw hard, stepping back to watch as the football sailed through the air in a perfect spiral.
About seven yards short.
Readjusting quickly, Zach cut forward and dove for the ball. He caught it midair in his fingertips and landed in a sprawl on the field.
He held the ball up victoriously. “First down!”
Cade broke into a wide grin and headed over. If this had been a real game, he would’ve just thrown an embarrassing interception and probably been booed off the field. But he’d take the moment nevertheless.
When he reached Zach, he held out his left hand and helped him off the grass. “Now that was some fast footwork.” He slapped him across the shoulders.
Zach grinned, boyishly proud. “Thanks.” He pointed to Cade’s right shoulder. “We’re done?”
Cade nodded, wincing at the sharp twinge in his shoulder. “Oh, yeah. We’re done.”
Twenty-two
THIS TIME, BROOKE
was ready to go when Cade showed up at her apartment. With her schedule, she didn’t get a date night often, so she’d spent a few extra minutes—okay, maybe a lot of extra minutes—on her hair and makeup and had slipped on a cute pair of jeans with her heels.
Cade eyes traveled over her when she answered the door, coming to rest on her shoes. “Are those the ones from Monday night?”
“They are.”
He stepped inside her apartment and kicked the door shut.
Well, then.
“I have good memories of those shoes.” With a warm gleam in his eye, he reached up and cupped the nape of her neck, leaning in to kiss her.
Hmm
. She might have to wear these shoes all the time around Cade, if they put him in this good of a moo—
He jerked back, cursing under his breath.
Brooke blinked in surprise, still feeling the warm press of his lips on hers. “Um . . . what just happened?”
He winced, rotating his arm gingerly. “I reached around to grab your ass.”
“And . . . it electrocuted you?”
He chucked her under the chin. “No, sassy. My shoulder’s a little sore after playing football today.”
That was news to her. “I didn’t know you still played football.”
“I don’t. I was helping out someone else and got caught up in the moment.”
Someone who?
Brooke nearly asked, then decided against it. If Cade didn’t want to let her in on this mysterious thing going on with him, she wasn’t going to pry it out of him. “Did you take anything for the pain?”
He brushed this off. “I iced it earlier. I don’t need anything for the pain.”
Men.
“We can stay in and take it easy tonight, Cade. It’s no big deal.”
“I’m fine.” He raised an eyebrow, as if daring her to contradict that.
“Okay,” she said, with a shrug. If that was how he wanted to play this, she’d go along with it.
For now.
* * *
BROOKE HAD TO
admit, Cade put on a really good tough-guy act.
If this had been a first date, she probably wouldn’t have noticed that anything was wrong. Not surprisingly, he was nearly pitch-perfect in covering up the fact that something was bothering him. He was charming as ever, he asked about her workweek, made her laugh, and told several interesting anecdotes about life as an assistant U.S. attorney. But by now she knew him well enough to pick up on the little signs, like the way he’d reached with his left hand to open the restaurant door for her. Or how his jaw had tensed slightly when he’d needed to use his right hand to cut his steak.
Going along with the charade, she said nothing through dinner, nor through their dessert of flourless chocolate cake, nor during the cab ride back to her building. Instead, she waited until they got inside her apartment.
“I have something for you,” she said with a deliberately mischievous air.
He raised an eyebrow. “I like the sound of that.”
She led him into the kitchen.
“More champagne?” he joked.
She shook her head. “Better.”
She took out a glass and filled it with water. His expression was one of confusion at first, then he made a face when she reached into a second cabinet and pulled out a bottle of ibuprofen.
“That’s my surprise?” He looked like a boy who’d been given socks for Christmas.
Brooke dumped two caplets into her hand and held them out. “Humor me.”
After a big show of scoffing and grunts of disapproval, Cade popped the pills into his mouth and took a drink of water.
“Do you miss playing?” she asked.
She figured he’d most likely fluff her off with his answer, the same way he’d nonchalantly handled her friends’ questions at the Cubs/Sox game. But it was something she’d been wondering about ever since watching the Rose Bowl video, and she just wanted . . . to ask.
Instead, he surprised her by looking at her for a long moment. “Yes.”