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.”

That quiet, simple admission tugged at Brooke’s heart. She’d seen his passion for the sport in the video, and his incredible talent, yet he hadn’t given up when football had been taken away from him. Instead, he’d channeled that drive and confidence into his legal career and had made a name for himself as federal prosecutor.

In her business, she worked with successful men and women all the time. But Cade Morgan . . . impressed her.

She came around the counter and held out her hand. “Come with me.”

His expression was skeptical. “What is it this time? A heating pad?”

“Not a heating pad,” she promised. But he was on the right track.

She led him into her white-marbled bathroom and headed to the oversized shower. Without saying a word, she reached in and turned on both the rain showerhead and the jets.

“Now this seems more promising,” he said.

“I thought you might see it that way.” Brooke lifted her shirt over her head, and then toed off her shoes. She undid her jeans and slid them down her hips and off.

Her bra hit the floor next, and then her underwear.

Cade’s eyes were on her the entire time. Instinctively, he reached for the buttons on his shirt, then grunted in pain and dropped his right arm in frustration.

Brooke crossed the room to him. “I’ll get that.” She stepped close and began to undo the buttons on his shirt.

“Just in case you were getting any tricky ideas, I still have one good arm to throw you over my shoulder.”

She looked up at him. “I get the nothing-fazes-me routine, Cade. I really do. But tonight, let me take care of you.”

She saw a flicker of emotions cross his face, before he answered huskily.

“Okay.”

* * *

CADE WATCHED AS Brooke finished undoing the buttons of his shirt, then carefully eased it off his shoulders. She freed his good arm first and then, gently, his other one. She smoothed her hands down his chest, and he sucked in his breath when her fingers brushed across his stomach.

She moved her hands to the button of his jeans, and thankfully wasted no time in undoing his fly. He helped her out, using his good arm to push his jeans and boxer briefs over his hips. He kicked them off with his shoes, then stood before her, naked.

Brooke took his hand and led him toward the shower, her dark gold hair tumbling down her back. She stepped inside and leaned her head back under the spray, looking like a goddess with the water streaming down her body.

Cade didn’t need an invitation. He stepped inside the shower and shut the door, closing his eyes as steam swirled around him and six jets pulsed against his skin. He growled low in approval when he felt Brooke press her warm, wet body against his.