“For today, you’re not going to Sydney and I’m not moving to Indianapolis, okay?”
“Why? We’ll only be disappointed when we face reality tomorrow. In fact, I’m probably going to have to fly down to Sydney in the next week or so.”
“And I may have to go up to Indy. But, Ben, we’re here now, carefree, not the world changers we hope to be. I’ve been Cami the businesswoman for so long I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be Cami the girl who likes to have fun and eat barbecue and hot dogs, and—” She glanced toward the roped-off section for the three-legged race. “Run a three-legged race.”
She grabbed Ben’s hand and tugged him toward the course before he could protest. This could be fun. She was just enough of a competitor?—
“Cami, hold up. You want to run in the three-legged race? You have to be on a team. We used to have one for the inn, but?—”
“Ben Carter!” A man with a bullhorn and a clipboard strolled toward them. “Haven’s Bakery needs one more pair for their team. Ruby had to drop out. Twisted her ankle.”
Good ole Hooley. Hadn’t seen him in years. The man never aged. “Hooley, I don’t think we should?—”
“Yes, we should.” Cami tugged on his T-shirt sleeve. “Come on, please.”
“Have you ever been in a three-legged race?”
“Not since I was, like, six.” She leaned close to him. “But it would be fun.”
“I guess we’re in.”
Hooley wrote on the paper on his clipboard with a number two pencil. “I’ll let Chloe and Sam know. All I need now is a team name.”
“Inn It to Win It.” Cami laughed as Hooley filled in the small box.
“You’ll be in the third heat. Best grab a rope and a sack.”
Ben retrieved one of each from the pile. “Line up next to me. Press your leg tight against mine. I’ll tie us up with the rope, then we can take a quick practice run before stepping into the sack. We have to move and work together or?—”
“Ben Carter, thank you so much.” A very pretty brunette approached, holding up two white T-shirts identical to the one she wore tied up at her trim waist. “I didn’t even know you were in town. Wow, it’s good to see you.” She leaned in for a hug, then turned to Cami. “Chloe Hardy. Ben and I graduated together.”
“Cami Jackson.”
“I have two Haven’s Bakery three-legged race tees for you. Cami, I don’t have any smalls.”
“I’ll wear whatever you’ve got.”
“Well, my sweet husband?—”
Ben leaned close. “Titans quarterback.”
Cami made a face. “I know who Sam Hardy is, Ben. I don’t live in a cave.”
“He ordered large and extra-large for the whole team. Here you go.”
Cami slipped on her T-shirt. It was hard to maneuver with her leg tethered to his.
“Win, lose, or draw—have fun. I’m so grateful you volunteered.” Chloe bent toward Ben. “Everyone is gunning for Pop’s Yer Uncle.”
“Do they still win every year?”
“Every year. It’s time for a new champ.”
Chloe ran off to meet her husband, who was more impressive in real life than on the gridiron.
While the Hardys lined up to race in the first heat, Ben and Cami practiced the best form. Arms tight around each other’s waists, hips pressed together.
“Once we get a rhythm”—Ben roped his arm around her—“we should be able to fly.”
