Scratching at a new patch of red bumps above my knee, I glanced at Cade’s sleeping face before looking away. Was this thing between us the start of something or just a little fling until the trip was over? How did it factor into our deal?
A boulder settled in my stomach.
I didn’t know how long I sat there staring into space, but a low murmur finally cut through my racing thoughts. “Morning, Darling.”
My attention snapped to Cade, who watched me from under hooded lids. He raised a hand to rub a sleeping Whiskey’s head, and my traitorous heart pounded like a drum in my chest.
“Hey, cuddle muffin,” I whispered back.
He snorted, but he only watched me a moment longer before his dark brows furrowed. “What’s wrong?”
The last thing I wanted to explain was my little chat with his mom. So, I mustered a smile. It felt flat.
“Nothing,” I said softly. “Absolutely nothing.”
Another lie to add to the list.
The truthful answer would’ve beeneverything.
the love olympics
. . .
Ellie
Ellie’s Guide toProfessional CuddlingBeing a Fake FiancéeNOT Falling for Your Fake FiancéHiding Any Trace that You’ve Fallen for Your Fake FiancéKeeping It TogetherSurviving as a Fake Fiancée, Tip #28: Have fun.
Adorable baby photos should be outlawed.
The more albums Mrs. Westbrook flipped through with pictures of Cade and his brother toddling around and playing together, the more forced my smile became during breakfast.
Cade was a delightfully chubby baby, with perfectly squishable cheeks and a toothless smile that melted my heart. But the last thing I needed right now was to be thinking about him and babies.
Cade seemed oblivious to my plight as he added two chocolate croissants to my plate before being pulled into a conversation with Harrison.
When his mom brought out a picture of Cade dressed in his first suit for preschool graduation, I tossed back the rest of my mimosa and held my glass out for a refill.
It was going to be a long day.
Dr. Lovejoy had completely transformed the main deck when we returned in our swimsuits for the Love Olympics. Pink balloon arches stretched overhead, four rows of tiki torches dominated the middle of the deck, and I even spotted a colorful ball pit by the back railing.
All the lounge furniture stood to one side, where Cade’s family, Mac, and some crewmembers sat to watch the event. Whiskey stretched out on Mac’s lap, soaking up the sun and ignoring the wave I sent him.
What was even stranger was the thumbs-up Cade’s grandfather sent me while Mrs. Westbrook buffed her nails.
Music pumped from unseen speakers—fun and poppy and perfect for a sunny day at sea.
But the giant banner hanging across the deck stole my attention. An explosion of hearts had been painted across it, with large red letters:The Love Olympics!
“Wow,” I breathed next to Cade. “Dr. Lovejoy really went all out.”
He grunted while I straightened the strap on my crocheted bikini and tried to keep my eyes off Cade’s bare chest.
The other couples arrived, and I did a double take when Fletcher trudged onto the deck with a swollen and nasty black eye.
“You did that?” I whispered to Cade, not meaning to sound as impressed as I did.
“I should’ve done more,” he muttered. “He wouldn’t still be here, but it wasn’t worth bringing out the helicopter when we’llbe back at port tomorrow morning. I’d rather beat his annoying ass in these games first.”
