Page 174 of Too Far

Shaking his head, he blows out a breath. “There’s more.”

Instantly, my elation turns to swirling anxiety. I cling tighter and pull in a deep breath before it overtakes me.

“After the meeting, the head coach pulled me aside.” He licks his lips and regards me carefully. “He offered me a job. A coaching job.”

My breath catches and my eyebrows shoot into my hairline.

“No shit,” Kendrick murmurs, rising to his feet. “Quarterback room?” he guesses, clapping Decker on the back.

Decker shakes his head, looking from K to me.

“Assistant coach to the offensive coordinator.”

“Oh, hell yeah.” Kendrick grasps Decker by the shoulders and pulls him into a real hug this time. “That’s a big boy job, Cap. They must really want you, brother.”

Decker’s smile is meek, his trepidation apparent.

“Well?” I ask. “Did you accept?”

Onyx eyes catch mine, then double in size. “Of course not.” His response is pure defensiveness. “I would never make a decision like that without consulting you all first.”

I bite back a grin and wrap my arms around his neck. He wouldn’t. In fact, he can barely choose a dinner menu without checking in. These days, the idea of making a unilateral decision without talking it through first sends him spiraling. I love him all the more for it.

“You should do it.” It’s a whisper, not so much to cut out the others, but because I want to convey my sincerity. So he knows that in my heart of hearts, I want this for him.

Decker is good at everything. He can network, sell software, and open so many doors for himself and for their stats program, but at his core, he belongs on the football field.

He swallows thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Atlanta’s nearly four hours away.”

I bite my tongue to keep myself from reminding him that I once drove four hours one way just to take him to an out-of-state hospital.

“You could commute. Come home on a regular basis. We could get a condo there so I could come stay sometimes. As long as we had a schedule, we could make it work.” Then, again, with conviction and loud enough for everyone to hear, I repeat, “I think you should do it.”

“I think he should do it, too,” Kendrick agrees.

“Really?”

Decker looks to each of us, searching for any hesitation or hint of a lie.

“Really,” I promise, pushing up on tiptoes and pressing my lips into his. “Plus, I’m tired of calling you Cap. Coach has a nice ring to it, don’tcha think?”

“Assistant Coach,” Kylian corrects from where he’s sitting on the couch, scrolling on his phone.

“What do you say, Coach?” I tease, nipping at my husband’s bottom lip.

“Say it again,” he practically growls.

“Oh, you like that, do you? I’ve never been with a coach before,” I whisper.

“Josephine,” he scolds.

I’m not playing. I want him, and I want this for him. Spinning out of his arms, I stride out of the living room, knowing damn well at least one of my guys will follow.

“I’m going to get the massage oil warmed up for my star running back. Just let me know if I should heat up enough for my favorite CEO and my professional football coach husband, too.”

Josephine

Three Years Later