Page 87 of Love is a Game

I close my eyes, fingers tangled in Tuck’s hair, plucking away another stray sundried leaf as he presses me against the doorframe.

“Okay, Buster,” I murmur, breathless. “I’ll agree to the services you’re offering. But you’re on the clock.”

I give in once again to the sweet, beautiful, maddening distraction. Losing myself in him, over and over, like I have all the time in the world. Like this isn’t temporary. Like I won’t have to break the habit when things inevitably go back to normal.

He wants to convince me we could do this—that he’d make a good father, that we could actually parent together. And he’s so persuasive sometimes, it gets me thinking that maybe itispossible.

I even catch myself picturing it—Tuck’s sky-blue eyes in a child’s face, the same mischievous sparkle. The idea is dangerously easy to entertain.

Perhaps raising a child could be as simple as taking turns, balancing needs, figuring it out as we go. Maybe it’s not impossible.

But while I can imagine a child with Tuck’s genes, the logistics blur into chaos. What would co-parenting even look like? What legal acrobatics would we need to pull off? The whole thing is a tangle with no clear end.

All I know is that no matter how tempting the escape he offers, reality is always there—lurking, relentless, impossible to outrun. And right now, I have a wedding dress design to pretend I have under control.

After being thoroughlyservicedby Mr. Handyman, I stir.

“Tuck…” I trail my fingers lightly across his chest.

“Mmm.” He reaches for me.

“Could you…maybe come with me?” I ask, my voice hopeful.

His eyes open, studying me. “Why?”

“Because I might need your help. A little distraction. A buffer. I need time to rethink Mia’s dress, but the last thing I need is for her to suspect that. I mean, you know me, Tuck. I always get it done. It’s just that sometimes…my inspiration takes its sweet time showing up.”

“You can’t lie to her, Pen.”

“It’s not lying! It’smanaging expectationswhile I make sure my client gets the absolute best. I know I can deliver. Of course I will. I just need a little time. You even said yourself the design could be better. And no matter what, Mia will have an incredible dress by her wedding day.”

“Just…not well in advance of her wedding day, like she’s probably expecting?” Tuck muses.

“Exactly.” I flash him a winning smile. “C’mon, Tuck. Help me out. What else do you have to do with your time?”

“Clearly, not much,” he says, stretching. “Alright. As long as this counts in my favor. My selflessness, my unwavering support, my—”

“Alright, alright.” I grin, tossing the covers back and climbing out of bed. “You are the definition of a stand-up guy. Now get up, get dressed. It’s a bit of a drive, if I remember right.”

It actually takes all of twenty-two minutes, including one wrong turn. And it’s still impossible to miss—once you get the approach right.

Perched on the edge of the lake like something out of a period drama, the estate is all grandeur and excess—manicured gardens sloping toward the water, gilded light fixtures glowing behind arched windows, a giant ballroom upstairs, and stacked terraces with stunning views. The perfect place to host a wedding that will undoubtedly make international headlines.

Mia and Mason’s wedding.

The setting makes sense. It’s where Mason proposed. Right there by the water, with swans gliding across the surface and a string orchestra playing like a damn movie scene. He flew in their family and friends from all over the country to witness the moment—because, of course, he did. No half-measures when you’re Mason West wanting to claim the woman of your dreams.

After passing security checks, we barely have time to take it all in before Violet appears.

She’s in another sleek, tailored outfit that I can’t help admiring the cut of, her pretty gray eyes sharp beneath the perfect sweep of her dark bob.

We follow Violet down a stone path, past marble statues and precision flower beds. As we ascend the stairs, she explains plans for the wedding, including how it will be set in a giant marquee overlooking the lake and gardens.

Mia’s waiting on the stone terrace overlooking the majestic scenery, no doubt reminiscing about her perfect proposal. She’s elegantly casual in floral shorts and a white lacy blouse and, as ever, incredibly stunning.

More than that, she looks absolutely enthralled with what she’s viewing. And for the first time, I see the place through her eyes: not just as a fancy venue, but as the setting for the most important moment of her life.

At first, she seems as friendly as ever, turning to me with a broad smile. But that enthusiasm dims somewhat as Tuck steps forward.

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