Page 71 of Play On

“I see. What do I get if I score five points?”

“The Violet Seal of Approval. It’s hard to get, so choose carefully, Saucy Shorts.”

Noah groans and I grin. He’s utterly adorable when he gets embarrassed.

He starts studying the bins, and I watch in delight as he begins to contemplate what to put in his cup. “All right. I have to get some fizzy cola bottles.” He puts some into his container.

“Yes!” I cry excitedly. “Those are excellent. One point.”

“All right. Four to go.”

I chuckle as Noah peruses his options.

“Jelly beans,” he says, adding those to his cup. He pauses and looks at me. “Contrast in shape and texture is important, you know.”

I burst out laughing, and he laughs, too.

“You are at two points now,” I tell him.

“Sweet. Three more points and I have this locked up,” Noah teases.

I watch as he adds stretchy snakes and milk teeth, but as I told him before, those aren’t eligible for points.

“Now some chocolate to balance it out,” he declares, pointing the tongs in his hand at me. “Chocolate beanies for sure.”

I know I’m beaming at him. “Your selections have been on point, Noah. Even if your packing skills are lacking.”

He furrows his brow and looks at me. “What?”

“There’s a strategic way to pack your cup so you get the most sweets in there for your money. Don’t worry. I’ll show you how to do it. But go on. Continue your selections.”

Noah’s lips curve up into a sensual, playful smile. “You wouldn’t share your tips at the party. Are you willing to share them with me now?”

I suck in a breath. He really did remember everything I talked about that night.

And why, why, why does he look so kissable right now?

“If you pass the test,” I say, flirting with him, “and earn my seal of approval, one of the rewards will be a personal lesson in how to pack your cup to fit in the most sweets.”

“What’s the other reward?” he asks, gazing down at me through his fringe of dark lashes.

“A kiss.”

Noah’s gaze instantly drops to my mouth. I find myself burning hot from the intensity in his dark eyes.

“I could throw in pink mice and cherries to get your approval right now, but that wouldn’t be a fair assessment of my selection game, would it?”

My brain is scrambled from the sexy way he’s toying with me, but I manage to rally. “No. It needs to be your pick. And mix,” I tease.

We both laugh.

“Very well. What else to add,” he says, turning his gaze away from me and back to the bins. He selects a sweet I don’t like, so I deduct a point. Noah makes a valiant argument for the sour peach rings, but I refuse to concede on that. He did earn a point back with his choice of duo fudge, however.

“Two more points to go,” I tell him.

“The pressure. It’s like taking a penalty kick.”

“You should feel pressure. This is very serious,” I quip.

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