Page 150 of Play the Game

My girl doesn’t like attention, and by sending Ford out first—in a biscotti costume, no less—she thinks everyone will be distracted, and they won’t notice her.

How wrong she is, though.

When I turn and see her, my world tilts.

My beautiful, compassionate, mouthy wife slowly enters the backyard with her white Converse peeking out from her floor-length, simple, silk dress. It’s cut low in the front, and with her hair up in a loose bun, I can’t help but stutter over my thoughts.

I walk to her, and everyone else disappears, even Ford in his biscotti costume.

“God damn,” I mutter, wrapping an arm around her waist. She peeks up at me with her shy eyes, and I watch the pink spread across her cheeks. “You’re beautiful.”

“Stop it,” she whispers, trying to hide a smile.

“Can I cancel the party? Everyone already knows we’re married. I'd rather take you back upstairs.”

“No way. Do you know how hard it was to get Ford in that costume?”

I chuckle. “Nice touch. Thought we’d all be so distracted by him that we wouldn’t see you, huh?”

She nibbles on her glossy lip. “You know me too well.”

“And I love every part.”

Her smile warms me. I intertwine our fingers and face the crowd. I raise our joined hands, and Ford shouts from the dance floor, speaking into the microphone, “Let’s give it up for Mr. and Mrs. Emory Olson, everybody!”

An applause hits our ears, and I gently pull my wife toward my parents, who are waiting to give us a hug. I watch as William pushes off the tree and heads for us. I move to stand off to the side, but he catches me by surprise and holds out his hand to me.

“Thank you, Emory,” he says, shaking my hand. “For everything.”

I nod once and watch as he hugs his sister. My chest is tight, and my heart does this weird movement that only ever happens when I know Scottie is happy. Like it can’t beat properly if she is anything but.

Scottie pulls back and smiles at William. Her eyes twinkle, and there’s a shiny gloss filling them the longer she stares into his eyes.

But then, there’s a little hand tugging on Scottie’s dress, and she glances at Ellie, whose nanny is off to the side, watching the entire interaction. Scottie bends down and gets on her level. Ellie whispers in her ear, and suddenly, I want to be privy to their conversation.

After they stand, she and Ellie walk over to me, and I raise my eyebrows. “Telling secrets, are we?”

Ellie holds something out for me to take with a hopeful look in her eye. I bend to inspect it further.

“What’s this?” I ask, watching her dangle a bracelet with blue and black beads in front of my face.

“I made you a bracelet.”

“Me?” I ask, unable to hide my shock.

She nods. “Well, I made Scottie one, but then I realized that you needed one too. It’s a wedding gift.”

With a father as grumpy as hers, I have no idea how she can be so damn sweet.

Scottie holds out her delicate wrist, and I drop my head with a chuckle. The wordBiscottiis surrounded by gold and blue beads. I have a feeling that has something to do with Rhodes and his silent way of joking.

I hold my own wrist out, and Ellie slides a bracelet onto it.

Biscotti Lover.

“Nice touch.” I wink at Ellie, and she giggles.

I swoop her up, and a gleeful giggle leaves her mouth. “Wanna go show Scottie how to dance?”

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