Chapter 5
She was a city girl in a country venue and completely out of her comfort zone. Skilled dancers swung about the barn floor to the directions of skilled callers.
Cami had no idea how to allemande left and felt sure if she tried, her leather cowboy boots would betray her feet.
Coyly scanning the dance floor and barn perimeter, she looked for Ben but saw no sign of him. The concession line ran along the back wall advertising cheese and nachos, hot dogs, chips, sodas, popcorn, and ice-cream bars.
A band supported the caller, and as one dance ended, another began. The place was packed—and hot. Large fans anchored in the four corners swung from side to side, stirring the hot air but doing nothing to really cool the space.
Cami pulled out her phone and snapped a selfie at the entrance of the community barn with a bunch of folks gathered behind her. She took another at the snack stand, still looking for Ben. Or Myrtle May.
She was about to take another selfie in front of the band when someone plucked her phone from her hand.
“Hey—” But the protest died when laughing blue eyes of an incredibly good-looking man captivated her. Ben.
His short reddish-blond hair was perfectly messed, and his stubble, almost a beard now, cut close to his angular jaw. The plaid shirt showcased his wide shoulders, and his jeans fit just right.
“What are you doing here?” Ben added a Southern drawl, which sent a slight thrill through her. “I don’t think you came all the way to Hearts Bend to take selfies at a square dance.”
“Hello to you too.” Cami held up her hand. “Phone please. I’m proving to my sister that I’m here.”
“So, why are you here?”
“Convincing you to sell me the inn.”
He laughed. “You might try adding a few dollars to your offer.” He looked at her boots. “Then you wouldn’t have to wear those ridiculous things.”
“Hey, leave my shoes out of it. These are legit cowboy boots and completely appropriate for tonight.” But he was right. So very right. “And I might consider upping the offer. What do you say to—”
“I don’t do business at a barn dance.” Ben handed over her phone and grabbed her hand, dragging her to the dance floor.
“Ben, seriously, I do not know how to square dance. I’ll step all over your toes.”
But he wasn’t listening. He’d just lined them up with the twirling couples when the caller ended the dance and announced a short break.
Then, from the suspended speakers, a slow song began to play, and Luke Bryan sang about the girl he used to know. One by one, couples gathered in a slow, close sway.
Ben pulled Cami close, and she did absolutely nothing to resist him. His embrace was warm, strong, and oh-so-amazing.
“I thought this was a square dance,” she whispered, her lips close to his ear.
“I’m leading you in the box step.” His voice tickled her ear as he leaned closer, his breath against her ear. “That’s a square.”
She muffled her laugh against his shoulder. Then she stepped on his toe. “Oh, Ben, I’m so—”
“Just dance, Cami. Feel.” He held her closer. “Don’t overthink it. Follow my lead. The box step is easy as pie.”
“Cherry or pecan?”
“Apple.”
“Hmm. Not my favorite, but…”
One slow song led to another. She quickly relaxed into his arms and found her rhythm. Following his steps was easy. His cheek brushed hers, and the hair of his beard tickled her in a delicious way. She could get used to this.
“How do you normally spend your Friday nights, then, Cami?”
“Working, then takeout followed by a soak in my tub, music in the background.” Annalise was right, and it was time to get a life outside of work. “What about you, Ben? How do you normally spend your Friday nights?”
He chuckled and Cami leaned back to study his face. He probably spent his Friday nights with pretty girls in trendy restaurants.
“Working, so I can’t bust you for it.”
“Birds of a feather and all that.”
Just when she was feeling like she never wanted to leave his arms, the band returned, and Ben roped her into square dancing.
She eventually got the hang of it. Dancing with Ben was fun. She couldn’t help but laugh as she do-si-doed around him.
On the last note of the song, Ben wrapped an arm around her waist, pulled her close. She whipped out her phone. “Proof we danced. Annalise isn’t going to believe it.”
“You need video footage too. Hey, Ray!” Ben waved over an older gentleman in denim overalls and wearing a floppy fisherman’s hat. “Cami, you remember the gardener, right?”
She did. Ray had brought in special flowers just for Mama to paint. During that last summer, he’d even planted camellias for Cami to paint. Another memory she’d locked away.
“Ray, do you remember Cami Jackson?”
“Macie’s little girl? Sure do. You’re all grown up. Saw you at the inn not too long ago.”
Cami nodded, but before she could respond, Ben held up Cami’s phone. “Cami would like a video of one dance. Could you dance with her while I take it?”
Ray shook his head. “As much as it pains me to turn a pretty girl down, why don’t I video and you dance?”
Ben handed the phone to Ray, and as the next song started, Ben and Cami hurried to join the line, hand in hand.
Cami laughed through the song with Ben purposefully missing steps and throwing her off beat. When was the last time she’d had so much fun?
Ray handed back her phone when the dance ended, but Ben quickly reached for it.
“Hey, Ben Carter, hand over my phone.” Cami tried to snatch it away, but Ben held it over his head.
“Let’s find a place to cool off.” He grabbed her hand. “Pie and ice cream at Ella’s?”
“Oh my gosh, I love Ella’s.” She tried for her phone again, but he tucked it in his pocket.
“Care to walk? It’s not far.” His hand still held hers.
“Sure, I’d love to walk.”
Myrtle May deserved a thank-you of epic proportions. Ben would never have gone to the square dance tonight if not for her prompting. And now he was going to enjoy dessert at Ella’s.
Come on, it’ll be fun. You know what they say: all work and no play makes Ben a very dull boy.
Dull? He was dull, wasn’t he? He felt it.
Working the inn during the day and Sydney by night.
But because of Myrtle May’s nagging, tonight he’d danced with the prettiest girl in attendance—Cami Jackson.
She’d looked like a million bucks when she walked into the barn, long dark hair in curls down her back, a lace dress, denim jacket, and expensive-looking cowboy boots.
“Are you ever going to return my phone?” Cami said as he held Ella’s door for her, resting his hand on the small of her back as she passed.
“Maybe.”
As they’d strolled across the moonlit park, the cool breeze against their faces, she’d stayed close, her hand fitting perfectly in his. He was enveloped in the magic of Hearts Bend, and he’d keep her phone forever to stay in this moment.
Inside Ella’s, they chose a booth by the windows.
A girl played guitar on a small corner stage, and several older couples sat at tables, laughing and talking.
Ben passed Cami a menu, and they talked over their options.
He ordered apple pie à la mode and iced tea.
She ordered cherry à la mode and sweet tea.
“I’ve eaten pie all over the world. Ella’s is the best.” Ben slid Cami’s phone across the table. “Did you really come tonight to talk me into selling?”
“Yes, but I’ve had so much fun, I’m not sure I want to talk business.” She held her phone in her hand, then tucked it into her pocket. “Tonight reminded me there’s more to life than work.”
“Me too. I forget to have fun sometimes. So, what about my forty-eight-hour window?” He mimicked Marlon Brando’s The Godfather.
“Ugh, don’t remind me.” Cami laughed softly. “I sounded so stupid. I never give a client a deadline.”
“You’re a businesswoman. Deadlines are a natural part of offers.”
“Not for me and not like that. Anyway, when Keith Niven emailed me about the inn, thinking it might be for sale, I’d just learned I was moving to Indianapolis. I think I felt suddenly sentimental.”
“You weren’t part of the Indy planning?”
“No, but that’s the way it rolls with Brant Jackson.
” Cami sipped her sweet tea. “He dangled vice president in front of me and I bit. Since you didn’t answer me in forty-eight hours…
” She smiled. “I’ve been asking myself why I made the offer.
Do I really want to own an inn? It’s too small for Akron to manage, so I’d have to do it on my own. Can I do that from Indy?”
“Believe it or not, I’m right there with you, right down to the sentiment. But how can I put my career on hold for a few sentimental feelings and old memories? The memories are with me whether I own the inn or not.”
“But it’s also your family heritage.”
“Weren’t you the one who told me my grandparents’ work didn’t have to be mine?”
“Yeah, don’t quote me my wisdom when I don’t want to hear it.” She was so pretty when she smiled. “But several times this week, it felt like the inn was my heritage. Yet I didn’t grow up here like you.”
“You spent a lot of summers here. That counts.” Ben gulped his tea, still trying to cool off from the hot barn. “Funny how we’re debating our sentiments over brick and mortar and a patch of dirt. Life isn’t in things, is it?”
“No, but things make us feel connected to people. To the past.”
The waitress came around with their pie and ice cream. “Tina popped in to get something, saw you two and said it’s on the house. Said she’s sorry about your granny, Ben. You’re Ben, right?”
“I am. Tell her thanks”—he checked her name tag—“Alice.”
Cami took her first bite of warm pie and cold ice cream. She closed her eyes, and Ben watched her savor the flavors, then glanced away, feeling there was something oddly intimate about the moment.
“Maybe that’s what we’re debating, Ben. This. Free pie and ice cream because the owner of the local diner recognized you and offered it on the house. You don’t get that at a Viridian Jewel Resorts property unless you’re in the millionaire’s suite dropping ten thousand or more a day.”