Page 88 of Holly Ever After

Then, we've got a ludicrous game of charades. Dad's efforts to mimeThree Wise Menhas everyone in splits. He looks more like he was trying to swat three particularly aggressive bees.

As the buzz from the prior games starts to wane, my mother's voice pierces the chatter, “It’s finally time for the treasure hunt. It’s the last game of the day, and we’re tied with the Johnsons. This is serious.” She claps her hands like a giddy schoolgirl. “We're going to split up into pairs. Me and your father. Mark, you go with Jackie. Holly and Sean, try not to kill each other.”

Sean leans in. “You ready for this?”

“I was born ready,” I reply, maybe too quickly.

Mom glares at us, a silent warning that speaks a thousand words. “This is still a team effort. The first team to have everyone back, wins. If you children make me lose to the Johnson's, it's grounds to disown you.”

Mark arches a brow at me. It's not the first time she's threatened to disown us.

Mom hands out the clues. Sean unfolds ours, reading aloud, “Where the town clock stands tall, you'll find your next fall.”

“Oh, come on,” I say, “That's obviously the clock tower.”

“Well then, lead the way, detective.”

We begin a tense walk toward the clock tower, neither of us willing to concede the lead. Every time Sean's longer strides start to edge him ahead, I elbow my way back to his side, refusing to be left behind.

Just as we're approaching the tower, he stops abruptly, causing me to nearly run into him. He unfolds the next instruction with a smirk, savoring each word, “Partner must be blindfolded and guided only by the other's voice.”

He holds out the blindfold with a cocky grin. “Ladies first?”

“In your dreams, Colson,” I retort, snatching the blindfold from his hands. “You're up.”

I tie the blindfold around him a tad tighter than necessary. “Remember,” I say sweetly, “No cheating.”

He scoffs, “Wouldn't dream of it.”

Blindfolding him, I take a moment to savor the sight: Sean, usually so in control, now reliant on me.

Perfect.

“Alright, big guy, take three steps forward and then…twirl.”

His lips twitch in annoyance, but he complies, spinning awkwardly.

“Left. No, your other left!”

He grumbles, shifting direction. “I swear, if you're making me dance just for the fun of it—”

“What? It's part of the game, promise.”

As we navigate towards the next clue, I'm acutely aware of the warmth radiating off his body. It's distracting, and for a moment, I lose focus.

“Step to the right,” I instruct, but what I should've said was left. He crashes into a hedge, his arms flailing wildly to regain his balance.

I wince. “Sorry! My bad!”

He tilts his head in my direction, blindfolded eyes somehow still intimidating.

I regain my composure, guiding him more seriously now. “Okay, ten steps straight, then turn right.”

He moves cautiously, taking slow, measured steps. It's evident he's not trusting me completely. Can't blame him.

After what feels like forever to take a couple of steps, the next instruction emerges. “For your next clue: partners must tie two of their legs together and hop to where mistletoe and wine combine.”

He groans, removing the blindfold and squinting against the light. “You're kidding, right?”

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