Page 35 of Resisting Temptation

Jake seizes the microphone and declares, “Let the Founders’ Day games commence! Your nearest neighbor becomes your partner in crime for the scavenger hunt.”

“Oh fuck no.” Paisley looks back at Jake, worried.

He shrugs nonchalantly. “That’s the rules.”

I smirk at her, glad I had the insider knowledge, and the look on her face is priceless. Jake has some of the other servers hand out the rules printed on parchment paper. “Come on, Pais. I know how competitive you are, let’s win this thing together.”

She glares at me angrily, then to Jake then back over to our group, who are all pairing up. She knows she has no choice but to play along now. “We better win,” she says, standing and taking the paper from me, a newlook of determination in her eyes. The teams take it to town square and line up.

“What the hell, Emerson?” Brody snaps when he notices who his sister is paired with. She’s standing with Hamilton Prescott, and I stiffen as well. How the hell did she end up with him?

“Don’t worry, Alexander, I’ll take good care of your little sister,” the asshole says smugly.

“Oh no,” says Gisele, grabbing Brody’s arm to stop him from going over there.

“I was coming out of the bathroom when it got announced,” Emerson grumbles to her brother. Her guilty eyes meet mine, and from the blush rising on her cheeks, I know this wasn’t an innocent mistake. Something is going on there.

“Paisley, you like the Prescotts, trade with Emerson,” Brody demands, his attention coming to us.

I look over at Emerson, and she shakes her head, her eyes pleading with me not to make a scene. Paisley looks happy about the idea, but there’s not a chance in hell I’ll trade her. She’s mine for the next couple of hours. “Not how this works, Brody. You know the rules,” I add. I’m not missing out on an opportunity to win her over. It’s been years since we’ve played one of the McAllisters’ Founders’ Day games, but we all know the rules. And this year they’re working in my favor.

Brody glares at Hamilton, rage radiating off him. “You lay one finger on her and…”

Emerson wraps an arm around him, guiding him back toward us. “Brody, I’m fine. Rules are rules, and I can handle Hamilton. Go enjoy the fun with Gisele,” she says sweetly.

Paisley drops her head toward Gisele’s. “Good luck, girl, he’s one raging bull tonight.”

Gisele giggles. “Lucky I know how to tame the beast.” She takes his hand, pulling him in the opposite direction.

“This isn’t some joke. He can’t be trusted with her.” He turns to Paisley. “This is all your fault. If you didn’t blur the lines by jumping on team Beckett, this wouldn’t be happening.”

“Chill out, Brody. It’s just a game. I’m stuck with this guy, and you don’t see me crying about it. Em’s a big girl, she can handle herself,” she snaps back at him. But she doesn’t know what we do. The Prescotts are big trouble, and his sister might be a grown woman, but I don’t want her anywhere near them either.

“Brody, come on. Everyone else has started.” Gisele tugs on his hand, trying to get him to leave with her. Reluctantly, he goes.

Emerson wanders off with Hamilton, and I watch them. “We need to stay close,” I tell Paisley.

“Why are you lot so worried about Em with Hamilton?”

I glance back at Paisley. “The same reason I worry about you spending so much time with Beckett. They can’t be trusted.”

“Didn’t you all used to be friends? All I hear is they can’t be trusted, but no one says exactly why.”

“Used to,” I huff, not ready to dive into our past tonight.

She rolls her eyes. “What’s first on the list? Let’s get this done as quickly as possible.”

I check the list, following in the direction of the others. “We need a photo with Captain Harrington.”

“Ha, I never realized our founder was a Harrington before. Guess it makes sense, ruthless invader that takes what he wants, leaving a trail of destruction and pain in his wake.” She kicks up the dust as she tries to take a dig at me.

I ignore her comment and make my way toward the statue. I take out my phone so we can take a pic. “Come on, it says we both have to be in the picture.”

Reluctantly she joins me, and I snap a shot of us together with the statue of my great, great, great relative.

“Take a photo of the inscription. There’s some trivia questions at the bottom, and one is the name of the ship he arrived on. Black Serpent,” she tells me, so I do.

“What’s next?”

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