Chapter 8
Pop’s Yer Uncle retained their title in the final heat, but Cami and Ben gave them a run for their money. They lost by inches. Ben blamed Cami. She’d been laughing too hard.
“We could’ve had them, Cami.”
“Then you shouldn’t make me laugh.”
But oh, her laugh was his new favorite sound.
Anyway, they were celebrated, then handed the little tin second-place trophy to Chloe and Haven’s with pride and toasted their almost-victory with a tall glass of sweet tea.
Then it was just…being together. They toured the grounds, watched the games, tried a bounce house, and when the sun began to descend, they moved their chairs to the concert area for the evening’s show, performed by hometown boy and country great, Buck Mathews.
When Buck played his last song, “America the Beautiful,” fireworks exploded in the sky. Ben gripped Cami’s hand, proud to be an American, proud to be with this woman. If only for the day. For a few weeks. For this moment.
He felt so at rest; so, so normal. When had he lost touch with that feeling?
At one point during the light show finale, Cami laughed, oohed and aahed at each explosion, gripping his arm and holding on tight. When had that started feeling so normal? And very much desired.
When the show ended and she released him to fold up their chairs, Ben felt a bit adrift, as if he’d lost a tether to his life. He reached for the chairs and threw their carrying straps over his shoulder.
“Can we do this again tomorrow?” Cami said, bumping against him as they walked toward Myrtle May’s camp. “I had so much fun. The food, the light show, the three-legged race. Man, I really wanted to beat Pop’s Yer Uncle.”
“You were laughing too hard.”
“You were killing me with your Pop’s smack talk.”
“Suddenly the high school athlete I thought I’d left at Rock Mill High found his voice. So next year they’re going down.” Next year? He’d be in Sydney. Or more likely, Hong Kong.
“That’s it! I’m coming back next year and every year.” Cami turned to face him, walking backward. “Ben, you should come too!” Her inflection was a “light bulb” moment.
“I was kidding, but come back for the Fourth every year?” Why would he return to Hearts Bend if he sold the inn? Where would he stay? Then again, wouldn’t he want to see what had become of the inn?
“Sure, why not? Like a same-time-next-year sort of reunion.”
“Unless, of course, you’re madly in love and engaged.” Were those words for himself or for Cami?
“No time for romance, Ben.” Her tone changed. The laughter was gone. “Next year I’ll be buried under Indianapolis property acquisitions. Gotta make that money. Make Dad proud.”
“You’ll have time for fun.”
“I haven’t done a good job up till now.” Cami slowed her steps. “I miss this part of life. Being in a community, going places where people know your name. And not because you’re bringing a large check.”
“Why not talk your dad into small acquisitions like the inn. Renovate. Take your time with them. Enjoy them.”
“He doesn’t want to be in the renovation business.
But doesn’t mean I can’t take the risk. I have some latitude with Akron, believe it or not.
” She walked with him toward the inn’s setup, and he could almost feel her warmth.
“Akron started with the nickel and dime properties. When Dad got into high-end acquisitions, he quit with the smaller projects. He’s brilliant at reading the market, knowing when to adjust. Akron has survived deflation, inflation, market fluxes.
While other businesses went under, we stayed on top. ”
“You sound proud.” Ben stopped by Myrtle May and Walt, who seemed deep in quiet conversation. He’d love to know what that was about. “We’re heading home. Do y’all need any help?”
Myrtle May waved him off. “Naw, we’re good. See you kids in the morning. Are you staying, Cami?”
“No, I need to get back. The Realtor is showing my loft.”
Cami’s confession struck him with a bit of reality. Don’t get caught up in the romance of fireworks and three-legged races. She was moving to Indianapolis. He was due Down Under as soon as possible.
Walking beside him toward the truck, she stumbled over something, a clump of dirt maybe, and Ben grabbed her hand.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
But he didn’t let go. Her hand felt good in his. She fit as they walked around parked cars and through the shadows of the day.
“Earlier you said I must be proud of my dad, and I am, Ben,” she said softly. “He can be hard-nosed. I know Hearts Bend folks don’t care much for him, but he’s fair and honest.”
Ben stopped at the inn’s truck and lowered the tailgate, sliding the chairs into the bed.
“You said he’s good at reading the market, but is he good at reading you?”
“Whoa, ladies and gentlemen, Ben Carter saw an opportunity and took a shot.” Cami laughed softly and bumped his shoulder.
“You don’t have to answer.”
But he wanted her to answer, to open her heart a bit. Something about the dark made it easy to be vulnerable.
“It’s complicated between us, Ben. He loves me.
I don’t doubt that at all. He’s setting me up for a long and prosperous career.
He’s made me work for it. Doesn’t show me favoritism in the workplace, yet he does send me information from his personal emails, details about a transaction and articles on the market, things he doesn’t send to the rest of the team.
I’ve been invited to lunches and dinners with investors, bankers, politicians. He’s teaching me to be like him.”
“But are you? Like him?”
“I am now. I used to be more like Mom, loving art, painting, staring at a sunset for hours and doing nothing. But when she left—” Left seemed so much softer than died.
“He’s built a bridge to you, Cami. Through the business. He’s loving you in his own way.”
“Is he?” Her eyes were beacons in the darkness when she looked at him. “I appreciate your insight. I know I should be grateful. But I still miss my mom. A lot.”
“My parents are alive, and I miss them. I get busy and forget to call. Months go by. When I do call, it’s hard to hear because their cell service is spotty.”
“Do yourself a favor when you’re in Sydney. Call them.”
“I will.” Something in her admonition stirred him. He had a choice to make. “You know, Dad left the inn to be a missionary. He always told me, ‘Do what you’re called to do.’”
“I’m moving to Indianapolis because my dad, my boss, told me to go. Am I called?” Cami’s voice was low, tender. “Who knows? By the way, who does this mysterious calling? The universe? Fate? Life? Our own inner voice? God, if He actually cares?”
“Ah, she’ll take Life’s Hard Questions for a thousand, Alex.”
Cami laughed. “I guess it is sort of late to be so philosophical.”
And then he knew. If he was going to sell the inn, it needed to remain. To be a vital part of Hearts Bend business. He needed, wanted it to be loved. Cami loved it, like he did. The decision was clear. Easy to make.
“I’ll take your offer, Cami.”
She was silent a beat. She stopped and looked up at him. “The offer for the inn? You’ll sell to me?”
“Yes.”
She started to hug him, then stepped back and stuck out her hand. “Gentlemen’s agreement.”
He laughed and shook her hand. “A woman’s agreement.” He resisted the urge to tug her to him, wrap her in his arms and kiss her until—
“Ben, I promise I’ll take care of it.”
He nodded, emotion stealing his words. He’d just sold his grandparents’ lifework. But this was the right choice. He was sure of it.
“Will you take care of the staff, Cami?” he said.
“Myrtle May lives in the owner’s cottage, but I’ll give her part of the sale for a house.
But she’ll want to work. I think she’d be lost without it.
Walt lives in his grandfather’s fishing shack.
He says, ‘It’s warm and dry, enough for this old bachelor.
’ Ray lives down the road. Has his own garden and fishing pond he keeps up too. ”
“I’ll look out for them, Ben.” Cami found his hand in the dark and linked her fingers with his. “And thank you for today, for selling me the inn.”
“You’re welcome. I trust you, Cami. I do.” Hands still linked, he walked her around to the passenger side door. Moonlight drifted through the trees, and he could think of nothing, feel nothing, but her nearness.
He opened the door, but when she didn’t slip into the seat, he gripped her waist and drew her close.
Cami’s breath brushed against his cheek as if she might speak, but when she didn’t, Ben tilted toward her and swept the curls that had fallen from her ponytail from her neck.
She trembled with a low, nervous laugh, broke her hand from his and cradled her cheek against his neck, then cooled his hot skin with a soft, tender kiss.
Ben moved to see her face, to see the light in her eyes before he slowly touched his lips to hers.
She raised her face to his and, forgetting all hesitation, he kissed her again, soft and slow at first, then with a passionate pulse.
Ben walked Cami the step backward until she was pressed against the side of the truck, holding onto him and rising to meet his kiss. Breathing in, breathing out—
Around them, the wind stirred up a cricket chorus for a romantic serenade and rattled the leaves in harmonic rhythm.
Ben’s hand slipped toward her hip, and that’s when it happened. A firework shot off just outside the parking lot, and their beautiful, incredible kiss ended with a laugh. Behind them, a group of teenage boys set off another firework, the noise echoing among the cars.
“My, my,” Cami said, patting her forehead, then her hair. “You’ve improved, Ben Carter. That was way better than our first kiss.”
“Same to you, Cami Jackson.” He paused to clear the roughness from his voice. “Though it’s disappointing we ended again with another crack, this time a firecracker—”
“But I loved the laugh.”
“Kissing and laughing.” He kissed her forehead. “What could be better?” Ben moved aside for Cami to climb in the passenger seat. “Guess we should go.”