I’d planned to do something noble with my winnings the way Brook always did when he won. But, I’m not made out of the same stuff as Brook. I’m not a horrible person or anything. I don’t throw plastic bottles in the trash instead of recycling bins. I donated a bunch of scarves and hats to a local homeless shelter when I saw a news story about the facility needing more winter gear in preparation for the frigid temperatures. But I’m not like him in that being good and doing the right thing come easily for me. I have to tell myself to be good and right when, more often than not, I’d rather do nothing.
Luckily, I have Brook to keep me on the straight and narrow. I suppose that’s what makes the best relationships work. Brook says I support, encourage, and inspire (ha!) him to be his best. And he makes me want to be a better, stronger person, too. Given enough time, I’m confident we’ll keep helping the other person. I’m counting on that tonight. I need him to help me be the kind of person who doesn’t let a little boredom and general disappointment at the state of some people in the world ruin her whole night.
I’m a little surprised to find Brook sitting on the couch. He’s not watching TV; he’s not messing around on his phone reviewing last season’s game tape or checking out what we can expect from the Packers this week. He’s just sitting there like he was waiting for me. Oh, God. Has something terrible happened?
He startles when I sit on the armrest of his chair. I slip an arm around his shoulder. “What’s going on?”
This time he has an answer. “That college in Seattle called. They want me to come for an interview. This weekend.”
I take a moment to process that announcement. It’s frankly a relief. The way he’s sitting here practically in the dark, I was worried someone had died or he’d been fired. Instead, he’s been offered to advance his career to the next level—and at a time when he has to be experiencing his own bout of workplace dissatisfaction. Or at the very least, disappointment. Maybe he’s just in shock.
“What’s the job?”
With only a bit more prodding, he tells me more about the offer. It’s a mid-sized college based in the Seattle-area with a football team that has been through some major staffing changes lately. They need a new wide receivers coach after their last one was caught partying with the co-eds, and they’d prefer someone with the ability to call plays. They’ve been following Brook this season, and his state championship title and recent accolades only heightened their interest in him.
If after the interview both he and the team are still interested, he’ll start in the spring. “They want us to fly out this weekend so I can tour the facility and you can see the city.”
“I’ve never been to Seattle, and I’ve always wanted to go.” I run my fingers through his hair. “I was just thinking we should take a little trip somewhere. This would be sooner than planned and all expenses paid. Let’s go.”
He stares at my dubiously. “That’s your reaction to my telling you someone wants us to move across the country? Not, ‘What about my job?’ or ‘What about our families?’”
“It’s only a job interview.” I move my hands to rub the tension in the back of his neck. “We can worry about those other factors later.” And when he still doesn’t look completely convinced, I elaborate. “We both know I’ve been working for the Donaldsons longer than I should have. Moving somewhere else would force me to try something new.”
“And our family?”
“They’ll understand and support us no matter what we do.” I squeeze his shoulder. “They want us to be happy. That’s all they care about.”
“Okay.” He nods and absentmindedly covers my hand. “I’ll tell them we’ll fly out Friday night.”
“It’s a date.” I jump up and head for the kitchen but turn at the last minute. “Before you go, can you do me a favor?”
“Sure.”
“Shave that beard off. I don’t care what cause you’re promoting; you need to make a good impression.”
OUR FLIGHTS FROM LINCOLN to Denver and Denver to Seattle go smoothly. “It’s a sign,” I tease Brook on our way up the elevator to our room for the weekend. “God, Mother Nature, and the airline industry want this to work for us.”
“There’s going to be more to this decision than an on-time travel schedule.” He shakes his head, but chuckles despite my irreverence. “We’re both going to have to want this.”
I sober and nod. That’s something we decided during one of our many discussions on the subject throughout this week and on our flight. We will make this decision together. We’ll be unanimous in wanting to come here, or we’ll stay put in Lincoln.
Still, I wish he would be a little more excited about this. He’d rolled his eyes at me when I skimmed a copy of one of the Fifty Shades books that his sister loaned me for the trip. I tried telling him that once you got past the angst and sex, it basically read like a Seattle tourism guide, but he didn’t care. He spent most of our flight reading the materials from the school and staring out the window.
He didn’t say much on the drive from the airport to our hotel in downtown Seattle. I suppose he has a lot to consider. It’s funny how a year ago I was the worrier in our relationship, and he was the one reminding me to go with the flow. It’s like lightning struck and we switched roles. It’s okay, though. I’m excited enough about this opportunity for the both of us.
The lobby of our hotel is one of the swankiest I’ve ever seen. The university must be pulling out all the stops to woo Brook into taking this job. If he isn’t flattered, well, I am. They must really like him. When we reach our floor—the top one—we haul our luggage into the room. Opening the door to our dark room, we freeze just inside the entryway, and our bags thud to the floor.
Brook speaks first. “Holy crap.” It’s the first enthusiasm he’s expressed since he told me about the interview a few days ago.
“I know.” We stay frozen in space, staring out the full-wall window on the other side of the room. The front desk attendant promised us a spectacular view of the city and, well, this is pretty freaking amazing. Our bird’s-eye view of the city is lit by skyscrapers and in the distance the Space Needle rises to the sky. And though we can’t see it, I know Puget Sound and the Cascade Mountains are in the distance. “I feel like we just stepped into Sleepless in Seattle.”
Taking my hand, Brook raises it to his lips. I tear my gaze away from the view to glance up at him. I catch the first glimpse of excitement in his eyes.
He kisses my hand and murmurs, “Here’s to a new adventure.”
z
Playoffs Week One Recap: North’s Lady Warms the Bench, Prepares for Playoffs Bid
After successfully securing herself an automatic spot in the league’s semi-finals, North’s Lady made it through the bye week in top shape. None of her top-tier players sustained any injuries, which means her roster is in prime position to compete in the semi-finals.
She’ll take on last year’s league champion, the Real J.J. While it’s impossible to predict the future without a crystal ball, there’s little doubt in our minds she’ll be successful in this endeavor.
Good luck, North’s Lady. Show the big boys what you’ve got.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“SO . . . WHAT SHOULD we do?” Brook asks as we sit at the gate in Denver International Airport waiting for our flight back to Lincoln on Monday night. Aside from sharing our respective experiences on our visit to Seattle—which were amazing—we haven’t discussed what we are going to about the offer from the school.
During my exploratory search on Saturday morning, I found several areas of the city where I could see Brook and I living comfortably. If he takes the job, we’ll have our pick, though we’ll probably have to figure in our financial circumstances based on his salary and my projected income without having a full-time job lined up. The school offered to help me find something within the university—which I guess is a standard practice—but I’m still thinking about that. I’m not sure I’m ready to step into another administrativ
e role in an office. Even one that’s different.
Instead, I spent my time playing tourist. The whole tour around the city had been a delight. Aside from a brief altercation with a Seahawks fan about a questionable play called in a past season. (There are some things a true Packers fan can never let go.)
By the time I met everyone for dinner, I was already sold on Seattle. I could see so much potential for us that I was ready to sign on the dotted line. But Brook was more guarded with his emotions.
What should we do? It’s the question that’s been weighing on my mind since he told me about the invitation. While I feel confident in what I want, there is quite a bit to consider.
On the one hand, this is an amazing opportunity for Brook. It’s a chance for him to take his coaching abilities to the next level. He’s always wanted to coach on a college team.
On the other, Seattle is so far from both of our families. All of our friends. Outside the program, we won’t know anyone. Actually, right now, we don’t even know them. I’ll be out of a job. There’s the logistics of moving across the country. I’ve done it before, but Brook hasn’t since he was a kid. There are more factors to consider. Like just how, exactly, are we going to get Blitz in a car for a cross-country trip?
This is the first big decision we’ll make as a team. Even though it’s ultimately Brook’s career, he’ll give my vote equal value to his. He might even give it more.
Knowing that, believing he wouldn’t make any huge life-changing decisions like this without my full support, gives me the courage to share my vote. “I say yes.”
“Yeah?” His eyes light up, and he reaches for my shaking hand with both of his. For the first time, I can tell it’s what he was hoping I’d say after our whirlwind weekend.
I nod, my heart beating faster as the full weight of this decision sinks in. It’s both terrifying and exciting. Petrifying and exhilarating. Because that’s what this decision actually means.
By moving to Seattle, we’re hoping Brook’s career as a coach will benefit. But we’re also smart enough to understand that there’s a lot of risk. As exciting as success will be, we’re going into a badgered program. Unless the team turns around, well, we could be in trouble. That’s the problem, and the beauty, of this game. It has the potential to take you to the top, but it can also break your heart.
“You’re sure?” he asks. “I understand what it means for you and—”
“And I understand what it means for you and for us.” I squeeze his hand. I choose my next words carefully, because it would be so easy to say the wrong thing. “Imagine we’re a football team—”
“Oh boy, a football analogy.” Brook shakes his head. “Be careful or I might be tempted to do something that makes us miss our flight or end up blacklisted by the TSA. You know what your football talk does to me.”
“We’re a football team,” I continue, ignoring the way his eyes darkened and the affect it had on my own libido. “There’s less than a minute on the clock. We’ve just scored a touchdown and we’re down by one. Do we kick the field goal to tie-up the game and go into overtime? Or do we go for two? Maybe win this thing right now or risk losing by one?”
“That depends. If you’re a—”
“I don’t want to talk about what other people would do,” I interrupt. “What do we do?”
He grins. “We go for two.”
“You’re damn right we do.” I press a light kiss to his chin. “I’ve been thinking . . .”
“Well, that’s good.”
I ignore his teasing and continue. “About our wedding. About setting a date. Maybe we should make that happen sooner than later.”
He startles. “Like how soon?”
I shrug. “We could always call in sick tomorrow and trade these tickets in for ones to Vegas.”
He shakes his head. “I don’t want to get married by Elvis.”
“Spoilsport.” I flash a quick grin to soften the jab. “Okay, maybe we don’t go to Vegas or even the courthouse. But . . . I don’t know, I wouldn’t mind starting this next leg of our adventure married. What about you?”
“I think . . .” He mulls over his next words for a moment, and my heart thumps louder. Maybe I should have waited to broach this subject until we were home. “I think it’d be nice to start this next adventure married, too.”
I let out the breath I’d been holding. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He kisses my forehead. “Why wait?”
“That’s right.” If I smiled any brighter, my face might split open, which isn’t a pretty picture. “While you think about whether or not you want to wear a suit or rent a tux, I’m going to grab a new book and a snack for the flight home. Want anything?”
“I’m okay,” he says, releasing my hand, before he reconsiders. “Actually, I wouldn’t mind a copy of—”
“The latest ESPN or magazine with something football-related on it? And a bottle of water?”
He looks a little embarrassed at being so predictable. Which isn’t the case at all. While I’m still learning to read Brook’s thoughts and emotions—something I may never be able to do fully—on this front, I’m a pro after our time together. “Yes, please.”
“I’m on it.”
“IT’S SNOWING,” GIO says, ducking his head inside my office.
“It snowed yesterday, too,” I remind him, barely glancing up from the pile of paper spread out in front of me.
“Yeah, but this time it’s really coming down.” He ambles into the office and plops down in my seat. “Don’t you want to come see it?”
“I’ve seen snow before.”
“Yeah, but this is the first big snow of the winter.” He toys with the bronze replica of one of next year’s new car models that I’ve been using on my desk as a paperweight. “Last year you told me it was the most important snowfall of the year.”
“I did?” I frown down at one of the pieces of paper and put a giant x through it. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“That’s what I said last year.” Gio lets out a short laugh and sets the car back down. “What do you have there?”
“Wedding stuff.” I purse my lips and x out the next page, too. “There’s apparently a reason most people take a year to plan a whole wedding.”
“Why don’t you take a year to plan?” Gio asks. “You guys are already living together here. Why would it be a big deal to still be living together when you move to Seattle?”
I shrug. “We just want to get married.”
His eyes narrow. “Are you pregnant?”
“Shut up.” I shoot a quick glare at him across the desk. “The other details—the flowers, the catering, the music—they’re not worth delaying our wedding through another football season.”
Which is what we’d have to do. Based on what Brook’s new head coach had to say, we’ll have January to get moved across the country and settled into our new home—and Brook started in his graduate classes—before spring football preparations pick up in February. While Brook won’t officially be involved in recruiting during the spring, he’ll want to get to know his new receivers. He’ll also be working at a coaching clinic all summer, which means we’d have to sneak in the wedding during one of the short vacation weeks or a bye week.
If we’re going to be pressed for time whenever we get married, why not do it now?
“Why don’t you elope?” Gio asks.
“If it was up to me, we would.” I’m honest enough to admit that I have the bridezilla gene. Eloping would spare me—and Brook—the crying, hair pulling, and temper tantrum throwing that are sure to come with planning this wedding. Thank goodness we’re going to cram it into a few weeks instead of a whole year. Brook would probably be begging for an out by the time we ever got around to getting married.
“As much as I like planning our weekly watch parties or the holiday dinner, this isn’t as much fun.” I cross yet another venue off the list. “Eloping sounds appealing.”
“Then why don’t you?” His nose
wrinkles. “It’s your wedding.”
“It is, but it’s not just about us. Our parents would be crushed if we went to the courthouse or Vegas.” And I’m fairly certain Amelia would make my life a total and complete hell if she didn’t get to be my bridesmaid. “My parents were planning to be in town for the holidays, and I like this time of year, so we figured we might as well have the wedding now.”
“Might as well,” Gio says, watching me closely.
“At least no one cares we’re keeping this small.” I push the papers aside for now. They’re giving me a headache, and I’m having enough trouble reading them while keeping up with this conversation. “We can have the wedding in our apartment if we can’t find something else. As long as I’m wearing a white dress and Brook shows up, I’ll be happy with whatever we do.”
Gio’s jaw drops. “You’d get married in your apartment?”
I shrug. “Why not?”
“It’s tiny.”
“So is our guest list.”
“You can’t do that.” He shakes his head. “You need to have something a little bigger. Something special.”
“I could always find out if the clubhouse at our apartment still has any vacancies.” Actually, that’s not a terrible idea. It’s already tastefully decorated for the holidays, and it has a kitchen, which we could use for catering.
“Would you let me make a couple of calls? Talk to a few people?” Gio asks. “I might have someone who can help you out with this.”
“That’s okay. I’ll actually call our landlord—”
“Harper, please,” Gio says.
His frustration gives me pause. “What?”
He runs both of his hands through his hair. “You’ve done so much for all of us the past couple of months—hell, year. You’ve helped us grow our business. I’m convinced that’s why the Donaldsons opted to stay together. You made this place too profitable for divorce.”
That’s a bit of an exaggeration, but his tone suggests I should not argue with him. He raises his eyes to mine and an intensity I’ve only seen once before—when he was about to set a new record for most new car sales in a month—is written plainly on his face.
Going for Two Page 25
