“Areyouany good at this?” I throw back at him.
“Am I supposed to know how to play since I’m British?”
I elbow him in the side. “I guess we’ll get through this together.”
“Kiss for luck?” Simon puckers up.
“Well, if it’s for luck.”
Returning his kiss, we’re next up to start. Grabbing a mallet, Simon points where I need to go and I whack it.
It bounces and rolls its way toward the hoop on the far side of the field.
Simon whistles. “Not bad. You taking out some aggression?”
Facing him, I walk backward as Mason and Ivy are up next. “I don’t know. Did you do something to warrant it?”
The smile drops off his face immediately. Ice slides through me.
“What’s wrong?” I grab his arm.
“Nothing. Stressed about the big day.”
It’s a lie if I’ve ever heard one.
“Talk to me, Simon. If something’s wrong, let me help.”
He blows out a breath before we’re being yelled at.
“Get moving you two! You’re blocking it for the rest of us!” Mason’s shouts startle both of us.
“Nothing to worry about, love.” Simon drops a kiss on my cheek before getting out of Mason’s way.
The rest of the game goes by in a blur. Mason and Simon keep trash-talking, but it does nothing to settle my thoughts. My brain is racing. Simon’s been off all afternoon and it’s driving me crazy because I don’t know why.
“Alright, love. Game is on the line.” Simon stands behind me as I line up my shot. “Hit the stake and we win.”
“And Mason has to miss.”
Simons laughs. “That too. You’ve got this, love.”
Pushing down all my worrisome thoughts, I hit the ball. Right into the stake.
“Yes!” Simon grabs me, holding me in the air. Laughter bubbles out of both of us. “Take that!”
“You haven’t won yet.” Mason’s ball goes sailing past the stake, sealing our victory.
“Yes! Now we did!”
I leap into Simon’s waiting arms. He spins me around, planting a loud smack on my lips.
“Brilliant, love.”
There’s a sadness to his voice as he plays with a stray lock of hair.
“You sure you’re okay?”
“Fine. Distracted, is all.
