Page 42 of The Game We Played

“You know what? Based on everything I’ve seen on this island since I arrived, I’m not questioning you.”

“Smart man.” I wink at him.

We settle onto two chaise lounges next to each other.

“It must have been cool to grow up here,” Tanner says.

Is he making fun of me? I open my eyes to study his face. He appears genuine.

“It was. Smuggler’s Hideaway is magical.”

“I thought you wanted to leave.”

“I’ll move for work, but this island will always be my home.”

He smiles at me.

Click.

I groan at the sound of the camera. “Dad.”

“What?” He blinks in an attempt to appear innocent. It’s a waste of time. I know better. “It’s a beautiful picture. Trust me.”

I grunt. My family knows this relationship is fake. I was forced to tell them when Mom threatened to phone venues to check availability for our wedding. She didn’t. But it was close.

“My parents know,” I confess once Dad wanders off to photograph the twins doing cartwheels.

“Know what?”

I lean forward to whisper. “About our arrangement.” He opens his mouth but I hurry on before he canspeak. “It’s not my fault. I had to tell them. Mom was already making a guest list for our wedding.”

“It’s fine. My teammates know as well.”

My eyes widen. “All of them?”

“Only my close friends.”

“I guess neither one of us is any good at following the rules.”

“I didn’t actually tell my friends. They guessed.”

“They guessed?”

“They know I don’t do relationships.”

My stomach drops. Good reminder. Tanner doesn’t do relationships. This is fake. No matter how good he looks sitting in the backyard with my family.

“It’s time for theSmuggler’s Sack & Chicken Dash,” Beth and Anne shout as they hurry toward us.

“I’m afraid to ask,” Tanner mumbles.

I stand. “It’s fun. And I’m going to kick your ass.”

“Hold on. I’m a professional athlete. I will win any contest with the word dash in it.”

“Not this one,” I sing.

He follows me to where the twins are holding up two potato sacks and two rubber chickens.