Page 20 of The Game We Played

What about mermaids? Do rising tides threaten local mermaid habitats? Oh, there’s a headline -Are We Drowning the Mermaids?But wait. Mermaids can’t drown, can they?

If mermaids can’t drown, what about flooding forcing mermaids closer to shore? Increased sightings will cause chaos and increase tourism.Are rising tides pushing mermaids into human territory?

I cross off my notes. This is too silly. Fun but silly. And I don’t want to write silly articles anymore. I want to be a serious journalist.

What about sunken treasure reappearing? This could be fun yet serious. Flooding might reveal old smuggler routes and buried treasure. Buried treasure is serious business. I wonder if I can find someone to help me with legends of buried treasure around Smuggler’s Hideaway.

A cup of coffee is set on the table next to my hand.

I glance up to discover Tanner standing above me. “What are you doing here?”

He nods to the cup. “Bringing you coffee.”

“I won’t say no to coffee. Especially not a cup fromPirate’s Pastries.” I sip the coffee and moan as the hazelnut flavor hits my tongue. “Yum. How did you know hazelnut is my favorite flavor?”

“I asked the owner. She told me.”

“You asked Parker what my favorite coffee flavor is?” I groan. “Do you not realize how quickly gossip spreads in a small town on a small island? All of Smuggler’s Hideaway will think we’re dating by dinner time.”

“Speaking of dating—”

I hold up a hand. “Nope. You’re not asking me out again.”

Mostly because I can’t continue to reject him. Not when I’m staring into his sparkling green eyes. Even though I know what a bad idea dating him would be.

We have nothing in common. I’m a small town girl. He’s a famous professional football player. I want a serious career.He’s a total goofball who doesn’t understand the word serious. A relationship between us has disaster written all over it.

“I have a proposition.”

I bark out a laugh. But when the patrons of the library hiss at me, I slap a hand over my mouth.

“It’s not the kind of proposition you’re thinking of,” he mutters.

“Wait a minute. Now, I’m offended.”

He rolls his eyes.

“Seriously, what is this proposition?”

He scans the room. No one bothers to hide how they’re watching us and listening to us. This is Smuggler’s Hideaway after all.

“Can we speak in private?”

“Room five is open!” The librarian shouts. Told you everyone’s listening to us.

Tanner stands and offers me his hand. “Shall we?”

I want to say no. His proposition has trouble written all over it. But I’m curious. There’s a reason I’m a journalist after all.

I ignore his hand and stand. “Let’s go.”

I lead him through the library to the private study rooms. I open the door to room five and usher him inside before closing the door behind us. For good measure, I lower the blinds as well.

“Wow. This is nice,” he says as he settles in the armchair in the corner.

“The library is one of our pride and joys on the island,” I say as I sit in the armchair across from his.

“I think of libraries as stuffy places with old books no one reads.”