Page 142 of Love is a Game

Then, just as I think I’ve reached peak panic, beneath the trees comes a shift. A ripple of awareness passes through the gathered crowd. The hum of conversation dies, replaced by an almost reverent silence. Every head turns toward the path leading down.

My pulse pounds in my throat.

He’s coming.

People’s gazes lock onto the walkway, anticipation thick in the air. My fists dig against my ribcage as if to hold in the emotion threatening to spill over.

Then, a figure emerges.

Finn. His demeanor is carefully neutral, except for the discreet thumbs-up he flashes against his chest, grinning at the crowd. Molly follows, her bright smile barely contained, her hands clasped together as if holding back excitement. Violet is next, her silver suit catching the light, her head tilted toward the man beside her.

Tuck.

He strolls at an easy pace, oblivious, one hand casually in his pocket, the other gesturing slightly as he talks to Violet. Then, at the last moment, he slows, stepping aside to let her move ahead down the final steps to the landing.

And just like that, the tide turns, pulling away the debris of doubt. I feel it. A deep, unshakable knowing. The fear dissolves, flushed away like waves slipping through the crevices of the rocks below.

It’s him. It’s always been him.

This is exactly what I want.

At the treeline, he halts, palms opening slightly as he takes in the scene. His gaze sweeps over the gathered friends and family as he tries to piece it all together.

There’s a gesture of surprise at seeing his parents, and I catch the flash of their smiles. But they don’t move toward him. No one moves at all. Everyone stands stiff with expectation. All eyes fixated on Tuck.

He stills, strokes a finger to his temple. Then, some back and forth with Brady breaks the tension, and laughter ripples through the crowd.

Then Tuck says something, maybe my name? And my heart floats to my throat as he turns in a slow circle, searching—

Finn points.

Tuck follows the direction, his head lifting.

His gaze lands on me.

And now he knows.

That I’m here. That I’ve been waiting.

That I planned all this for him.

With a final look back to the gathering, he comes toward me, climbing the incline with easy, steady strides.

Closer and closer…my heart in rhythm with his steps. And it’s all I can do not to run to him.

A familiar wry smile, like:you’ve really done it this time,creases his unbelievably handsome face, his eyes sparkling…a single crease between his brows signaling the lingering confusion.

Then he’s right in front of me.

“Nice view.”

I nod. “It’s a perfect day.”

“I wasn’t talking about the scenery, Pen.” He looks over my face, my dress.

“Oh yeah…” I smooth the fitted waist of the cream dress I finished at 2 a.m. The fanned sleeves set off the shoulder. The doily-laced pocket. And the billowing skirt that grazes my calves as it catches the wind. “I thought I’d put my design experiments to use.”

“And…apparently your previously untapped skill for event planning?” He grins.

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