"We won!" Matt whoops, nearly dropping the cake he just saved. "Did you see that catch? That was some pro-level stuff right there. Preston, tell me you saw—"
"Yes, Matthew," Preston's trying to sound professional, but he's grinning like he just closed a million-dollar deal.
I catch Sarah watching them. She's covered in mud, her yoga pants ruined, but she's beaming at Matt being . . . well,Matt. Not the polished version her parents want, but the guy who'd dive through obstacle courses and celebrate like a kid who scored his first touchdown.
Maybe thereissomething to Kristal's family bonding chaos after all.
I help Carter up, trying not to laugh at how his perfectly styled hair is now plastered to his forehead. He grabs my hand, holdingon a beat too long.
"You know," he says, somehow managing to sound smug even while dripping mud, "we should get drinks later. Just us."
"I should check on Dottie," I cut in, already backing away. His smile doesn't falter. Guys like Carter don't register rejection as an option.
"Next up, Tulle Tug-of-War!"Kristal brandishes her sparkly clipboard again. "And since Carter's getting his ankle iced, we're doing pairs! One sits out from each team!"
She draws names with the enthusiasm of someone picking lottery numbers. "First match: Matt and Ivy versus Caleb and Virginia!"
Matt's entire face lights up as he bounds over to me like an overgrown puppy. "Ivy! Partner! We're going to crush this. I have strategies. So many strategies. First, we need to—"
"Second match," Kristal continues, "Dottie and Preston versus Magnolia and Greg!"
I grab the rope wrapped in tulle, which is way more slippery than it looks.
"Ready!" Kristal chirps.
Across from us, Virginia's giving Caleb instructions that sound suspiciously like battle tactics, while he keeps sneaking glances our way that I pretend not to notice.
"Set!" Kristal raises her whistle. "And remember, love is a battlefield, people! Make it count!"
The rope goes taut between us. Virginia yanks hard, but Matt's already shifting our stance.
"Left foot forward," he murmurs, and I follow his lead without question. "Now wait for it . . ."
Across the line, Virginia's getting frustrated. "Come on, Miller, my grandmother could do better than that."
"Funny," Matt fires back, "Sarah said the same thing about your last courtroom performance."
Virginia's eyes narrow. "At least I didn't peak in college."
"Nah, you peaked at being a pain in my—"
"Focus!" I hiss as the rope slips. Matt adjusts, and we're gaining ground.
"Just like old times, right little brother?" Matt taunts Caleb, who's fighting a grin. "Remember when I used to let you win at this?"
"Let me?" Caleb scoffs. "That's not how I remember it."
Virginia yanks the rope so hard my shoulder nearly pops from its socket. "Less family reunion, more pulling!"
Matt and I find our rhythm—step, pull, shift.
"Excellent form, Dorothy." Preston's voice carries from beside us.
"Thank you," she says sweetly. "Greg, honey, you're gripping too low. But then, you wouldn't know about proper form, would you?" Something tells me she's enjoying this more than anyone pretending to be polite should.
"Now Preston," Magnolia drawls. "Surely you could let your wife have this one small victory?"
"Lovebug, I adore you, but I didn't get where I am by going easy on the competition."
