Page 19 of I Could Be Yours

“Honey, this is incredible!” Mom hugs me.

“I had a lot of help, I promise.”

“Always so modest.” Dad gives me a squeeze.

“Why don’t you bring our stuff to the lodge, and I’ll see if Muffy needs any help setting up?” Mom says to Dad.

“Dallas’s mom is probably in the main house. I can take you over and introduce you,” I offer.

Mom waves me off. “I met most of these people at the shower, and you have lots to do, I’ll check in with you later.” She kisses me on the cheek. “You’re a wonderful best friend.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

My dad winks and settles a hand on her lower back, guiding her toward the house. I love their love.

The team arrives in waves, interspersed with family and other friends, and things get underway. As far as stag and does go, this one is taking the cake. I’d like to say it’s all my doing, but the freaking Plinko board has a never-ending line, and so does the stupid paddleboard jousting, which I refrain from experiencing because I didn’t spend all this time on my hair and makeup to have it ruined.

Also, Nate is hella competitive. He’s beaten almost everyone at the paddleboard jousting. And he looks stupidly delicious in nothing but a pair of board shorts. Although, so does every other one of these hockey boys. I manage to avoid being tossed in the water by commandeering the megaphone. Every time someone tries to get me close to the lake, I call for Flip, which seems to irritate Nate.

I don’t get it. I’m forever nagging him with messages, which are met with his constant disdain. He’s made it clear that he can’t stand me or my zeal for everything romance. So why does he feel compelled to intervene every time Flip gets within five feet of me? Despite my confusion, it is fun to annoy him, and he’s hot when he gets all growly.

When Flip makes a move to be my partner in the mini-cucumber-pass game, Nate steps in and makes Tally do it with me. Which I guess is better than Tally passing a cucumber with Nate or Flip.

“Why the hell are we using mini cucumbers? Don’t they usually do this with a balloon or a potato or something?” The furrow is back in Nate’s brow.

“You seriously don’t know?” Pretty much our entire girlfriend group has the inside scoop on this.

“Obviously you do.” His gaze shifts from me to Tally, whose face is now beet red. “And you.” He looks at Flip, who seems less confused andmore disturbed.

“I would like to remain in the dark about this.” Flip’s eyes are anywhere but at me or Tally.

“Ask your brother,” I tell Nate with a wink, then turn to Tally. “Ready to pass the cucumber?”

“So ready. Let’s hand them their asses.”

“Oh, it’s on.” Nate tries to clamp the cucumber between his knees, but this is the one instance where height and breadth are a disadvantage.

We kick their butts. It’s the stupidest, most hilarious game.

When we move on to pin the veil on the bride, Nate pushes his way in, so we’re once again competing. I’m pretty sure he cheats, which is the only reason he freaking wins. We vie for the top spot in the toonie toss, which I win, but then Nate beats me in the beanbag toss.

And then it’s time for the limbo stick. By now I’m several glasses of prosecco into this night. I’m feeling no pain, and I’m also pretty limber, thanks to years of cheerleading. If ever there was a time to limbo, it’s now. Of course, because Nate is in full-on competition mode with me, he also lines up in the queue. He and Chase are the only guys. The height differential isn’t quite fair. All the girls are under five eight, and they’re well over six feet.

It doesn’t take long to whittle it down to just me and Nate. I’m surprised he’s so bendy.

He strips off his shirt and tosses it aside, then rolls his head on his shoulders and does a couple of arm pinwheels, followed by deep knee bends. For a guy who works in an office, he’s fit as fuck.

“Watch how it’s done, sweetheart.” He struts to the limbo stick, all seven hundred abs rippling as he leans back and expertly passes underneath. The crowd cheers and whistles. He chest-bumps Flip.

It’s freaking ridiculous. Why is he good at something so random?

But I have more than twenty years of gymnastics on my side.And two can play at the no-shirt game. As he approaches, probably to gloat, I pull my shirt over my head. I’m wearing a bikini top, but it isn’t padded.

His eyes immediately drop to my chest and spring back to my face.

“Hold this for me please, Nathan.” I purposely brush against him while also skimming his nipple as I hand him my shirt. “Two can play this game, pretty boy.”

I take my place in front of the limbo stick, winking at him as I bend backwards, fingers dragging up my calves as I pass under the bar.

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