Page 28 of Special Delivery

She leads me to pick up the ball, and I trudge through the water until she tells me to stop. “Now you have to aim straight for the middle.”

I look back as if I have my vision. “And how would I do that? You need to tell me where to aim. Maneuver me directly across the hole.” I move half a step to the left before she tells me to throw.

She groans, letting me know I’ve missed. It takes me a minute to find my bag again. Then she maneuvers me back to where I stood. “Do I need to go longer or shorter?”

“Longer, but just maybe half a foot.”

Inhaling deeply, I channel my high school-baseball playing self and throw. A high-pitched scream is the first thing I hear before something slams into me.

My face scrunched, I pull the blindfold off, finding Paige wrapped tightly around me. Her eyes sparkle with glee, her smile as wide as I ever saw it. She’s also holding me in a hug while jumping up and down, which creates a not so uncomfortable friction in my mid area.

“We won! We won!” she squeals, as if she thinks I don’t understand what happened, but I’m simply trying to stop my dick from growing hard. She’s a head shorter than me and fits perfectly into my arms, which is not the direction my thoughts should be heading in.

I glance at others, seeing Mom and Roger smiling at us, and Jordan huffing with annoyance. Emma slips the blindfold off her hair and flashes me a wink that no one else notices. My mouth parts, and I take a step back, extracting myself from the hug.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Paige

Ryan takes a step back, and I realize I held onto him like a baby koala.

“Sorry,” I say, heat growing in my cheeks. “I just really love winning.”

That’s an understatement. My heart thuds loudly in my chest as adrenaline courses through me. An evil laugh bubbles up my throat, but I force it down, not to embarrass myself further.

“Congrats on your victory, guys,” Emma shakes both of our hands.

Her eyes switch from me to Ryan a couple of times, her grin wider than it should be considering her loss. There’s something more pressing to do than decipher Emma’s expressions, though.

“Aren’t you going to congratulate your sister?” I taunt Jordan, who purses her lips.

After taking a long breath, she bites out, “Congrats on winning this stupid game.”

“Hmm.” I tap my chin with a finger. “How stupid do you have to be to lose this stupid game?”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Now, now. Let’s keep some civility, girls,” Dad scolds her before pulling me into a hug. “But excellent work, you two.”

The two of them barely participated in the contest, if I’m honest. It’s almost like it was a ploy, and not an actual competition. Also, both Jordan and I focused on the game too much to collect intel about Kim. Seeing how deep Dad is in with her, that intel is more than necessary.

“Congratulations to our winning couple, Paige and Ryan!” Anthony announces. It sounds weird calling us a couple, but I decide it’s best not to correct him. “Now, I think we all deserve some lunch.”

By some Santa’s elves’ magic, there is a full lunch served on a picnic blanket in the shade. A gorgeous spread of cured meats, soft cheeses, dips, crackers, and nuts makes saliva pool in my mouth. The competition drained me. It wasn’t physically demanding, but doing anything under the scorching sun is exhausting.

I place a palm on my shoulder, hissing when I notice how hot it is. I should’ve worn a shirt, just like Jordan did. Kim hands me a water bottle, and I down half of it before dropping onto one of the small pillows placed around the picnic blanket. Ryan sits far away from me, which is a blessing, especially after I practically attacked him with my hug. Still, he’s in my direct line of vision, meaning I have to put in extra effort to keep my gaze away.

Why does he have to be so hot?

It’s one constant that has been circling my brain ever since the first time I saw him. Him delivering sex toys to me would’ve been less embarrassing if he weren’t so goddamn attractive. Our parents being engaged to be married would be less awkward if my pulse didn’t spike every time I saw him. Being wary of his mother’s intentions would be so much easier if I could stop looking at his abs. His now sweaty abs that are flexing as he leans in to fill his plate.

“Paige?” a voice breaks through my thoughts.

“Yeah?” I respond with a breathy whisper. See? Even talking would be easier if he wasn’t so hot.

“You okay?”

Finally, I manage to pull my gaze away from him and toward the person determined to talk to me. It’s Emma, and the smirk on her face tells me she knows exactly where my eyes and mind have just been.