Page 81 of The Fake Husband Deal

George grumbled. “Please.”

“Just because we’re in charge doesn’t mean we can’t be polite,” she said.

I glanced at my cousin Harrison and his husband, Fletcher. Both were trying to suppress their smiles.

Meatball and Adam flipped a coin to see who kicks off the game.

“Hey, Spencer, are we going to kick some ass, or are we going to kick some ass? I’m still salty Victoria wouldn’t let me bring a plus two,” Ellie said, jogging past me. “I should have done a Noah and brought Libby and Ten anyway.”

I laughed. “It would have taken some heat off my back.”

“Doubt it. Not unless Bridezilla caught us making out in the hotel lobby.”

I hissed. “I bet that’d be hot.”

She rolled her eyes to the back of her head. “You have no idea. Libby and Ten are…” She bit her lip.

A tap on my ass made me jump. “Hey, don’t you get any ideas. I’m not sharing you.”

I caught Lior before he could run away from me. “I swear to God, husband. If you make me pop a boner in these shorts, I’ll never let you get anywhere near my ass.”

He laughed as he jogged to his spot. “Liar.”

With all of us in position, George and Megan distributed armbands. We were the blue team, and Adam’s team was red.

The early afternoon sun was high in the sky. A bead of sweat ran down my forehead, and we hadn’t even started playing.

“Are you ready?” the kids shouted excitedly.

“Yeah,” we all shouted back.

They blew their whistles, and the game started.

Adam passed the ball to Fletcher, who maneuvered it with precision, passing it back and forth to Emery, trying to find a gap in our defense.

“You’re going down, Spencer,” Fletcher said between gritted teeth. “I’ve got my eye on that prize.”

I tried to defend the best I could, but soccer wasn’t my sport, so I fought back the way I knew best.

“Did you borrow those shorts from your kid?”

“Yep, my husband likes staring at my ass. Sue me,” he said without skipping a beat.

I glanced at Harrison, who was staring at Fletcher’s ass.

“Sucker.” The bastard saw my distraction and got past me.

Thankfully, the dynamic duo that was River and Lior countered with their seamless coordination, intercepting the ball and saving Ellie from having to defend a shot.

If I didn’t know better, I’d have thought River and Lior spent hours playing soccer together.

As the game progressed, both teams showcased a great lack of skill but willingness to take a fall, as demonstrated mostly by my two left feet. Hand sports were more my thing.

“Baby, I’m going to have to carry you up to the room if you can’t stay upright,” Lior said.

“The fucking ball is round,” I complained. “And I’m better with my hands.”

George and Megan whistled at the halfway point.