Page 43 of Playing It Forward

“There is no winning.”

“Really?” He cocks a brow. “Because this party is starting soon and these bottles aren’t finished yet.”

“Whatever,” I mumble.

He lines up the bottles filled with sand.

“You’re not done. You need to tie the ribbons around the bottles.”

He picks up a red ribbon. “This tiny thing?”

“What’s wrong? Can the big, bad quarterback not handle a little bit of ribbon?”

“I can handle ribbon,” he mutters as he attempts to tie the ribbon. I bite my tongue before I laugh. His hands are twice the size of the bottles, and the string appears tiny in his hands.

I wiggle my fingers. “Give it here. We’ll be here all night at this rate.”

“I’ve got it.” He finishes tying the ribbon.

I snort out a laugh. “What is that supposed to be?”

“It’s a ribbon tied on the smallest bottle in existence.”

“It’s supposed to be tied in a bow.”

“Now you’re messing with me. There’s no way anyone can tie a bow with this tiny piece of ribbon. It’s impossible.”

“Give it here.”

He hands me the bottle. I untie the ribbon and re-tie it into a bow. “See? It’s cute and romantic now.”

“If you’re a sea sprite.”

“I love sea sprites. Mischievous and fairy-like? Life-sustaining but also treacherous and unpredictable?” I sigh. “I want to be a sea sprite.”

He smiles and the dimple on his left cheek appears. The things I would do to see that dimple.

“Okay, sprite. How about I fill the bottles with sand and your tiny sprite fingers tie the ribbons?”

I bristle. “My fingers aren’t tiny.”

“Why do short people always get offended when you call them tiny?”

I gasp. “I’m not short. I’m average.”

He snorts. “For a sea sprite.”

I giggle. I did say I wanted to be a sea sprite.

We work as fast as possible to get the bottles ready for the party. I’ll never admit it out loud, but it’s comfortable. Nolan is sweet.

But is he being sweet for me? Or because I’m carrying his baby?

Until I know for sure, I need to keep my heart encased in steel. Because this man has the power to break my heart with a wink and a smile.

Chapter 15

Nothing ruins flirting faster than accidental blunt force trauma.