Page 75 of Love is a Game

But it’s Tuck’s searching look beyond the commotion, scanning the room, that has my skin vibrating with longing.The fact he’s looking for me.

Then…he sees me. The current of electricity connects, and a knee-weakening smile spreads across his face, slow and certain, like he was just biding his time before I arrived.

And suddenly, I’m moving. Drawn by something unspoken, something undeniable. Butterflies unravel in my stomach, their wings beating out a rhythm I can’t ignore.

His hand finds my waist. His blue eyes dance with mine.

And in a moment of reckless, breathless surrender—I give in.

No hiding. No pretending. No more trying to define whateverthisis.

Because in this moment, my heart has already won the battle.

Game. Set. Match.

Chapter 23

Tuck

Consciousness kicks in with a drilling soundtrack. My mind as rumpled as the sheets.

Too many drinks. Too little sleep.

But that’s like worrying about chimney dust from Santa’s gift haul. Because a mild headache and grogginess mean nothing when my biggest wish came true.

A real shot with Pen. A chance to take what’s always been in the shadows and bring it into the light. No more hiding our feelings.

At least…that’s my interpretation of her behavior last night.

Her fingers wrapped through the loops of my jeans as we gathered at the bar. Her head tucking into my shoulder as she laughed at one of Brady’s wildly embellished college stories. Her body curved into mine as we shared the backseat of Vivian’s car on the way home.

And what came after…her hot body spread over mine as we made it to bed. Her whispered confirmation that we have this week to be together, to figure things out.

But now—I reach out my arm and hit vacant air.

“Pen?”

I brave the harsh morning light.

Blink.

And blink again.

Because she’s dressed. Andhow—

Black suit. Squared shoulders. Sharp. Elegant. A boss.

Realization hits: the funeral.

I sit up too fast, my head reminding me of my poor life choices.

“You’re ready already?” My voice is hoarse. “What’s the time?”

Pen leans in the doorway, fingering an earring, seemingly calm and composed. “I want enough time to greet everyone before the service. A few of the women from Safe Haven are coming.”

“Of course, yeah. I’m up. Give me twenty.”

My heart lurches against my ribs as I get upright and fully take in her astounding beauty. I can hardly bear to leave her—even for a quick trip next door to clean up and grab my suit.

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