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She played with the strap on her left shoulder. Under his attention, even the thin spaghetti strap seemed suffocating. “That’s not much of a loss for me.”
“For what I have in mind…” He lifted one shoulder.
“What?” She squeaked out the question. “What do you mean, what you have in mind?”
He squeezed the back of her neck as he stood up. “Guess you’ll have to find out later.”
“If we lose,” she amended.
He cocked his head to the side, as if the thought had never occurred to him. “If you lose. Shouldn’t be too hard.”
Then he walked away, crouching down to Maggie, who ran full steam right into him. He lifted her up with one arm and hung her over the back of his shoulder as she shrieked with laughter. Oh god, she had already lost.
But she’d put up a damn good fight.
* * *
Pink and lavenderstreaked the sky as a crowd gathered around the cornhole platforms for the championship. At stake was a trophy, bragging rights, and time alone in his bed with the woman staring at Mike while she tossed a beanbag back and forth between her hands.
“We’ve come to the end,” Jimmy said, waving his arms in an arc. “It is now down to the reigning champion of cornhole—” he pointed to himself “—and the man who created him, along with the man who’s tormented him,” he finished, gesturing to their dad and Mike.
“Hey.” Samantha punched Jimmy’s arm. “What about me?”
“And Sammy has come along for the ride,” he added quickly and almost incomprehensibly to the laughter of the group, Sam included. Jimmy threw his arm around her shoulders. “Let’s hear it for this one, the smartest person I know with the worst throwing arm. But she makes a damn good teammate.”
There was a smattering of applause, and Jimmy held his hands out to his waiting audience. “As per usual, the winner’s names will be added to the trophy,” he said, lifting it up to show the crowd. “Lo! Since this tournament began, yours truly has been on the winning team every year. That’s four years in a row. Shall we make it a fifth?”
The small crowd applauded, while Mike, along with Adam behind him, booed. Their dad laughed, elbowing both of his older sons. Their mom, meanwhile, had her camera out to capture every moment of the final game.
“Maggie,” Jimmy said with a flick of his finger toward Adam’s daughter, who held up his cell phone, blaring theRockytheme song as she danced around.
With one last round of laughter, everyone simultaneously backed away a few paces while Jimmy and Sam took their place across from Mike and Brandon.
Mike watched Jimmy lean over, whispering something in Sam’s ear, to which she nodded a few times. Then he smacked her on the back and pointed a finger at his brother. “You’re done,” he mouthed.
“We’ll see,” Mike said loud and clear, so everyone, including Jimmy’s fawning fans, could hear. Then he met Sam’s eyes. He had big plans for her and was confident he and his dad would win.
Until she tossed out her first bag, and it inexplicably sailed into the hole. Jimmy hooted in glee. Clearly, while Mike had been off eating hot dogs, she’d been getting much better at cornhole.
“Oh, it’s like that?” he asked, shaking out his arms.
“It’s okay, Mikey, we got this,” his dad said and clapped.
Mike tossed his beanbag and barely missed the hole.
“Oof, on the outside,” Jimmy taunted.
Mike shifted on his feet. This wasn’t going to be an easy win anymore. His brother was anxious to continue his winning streak, and he’d obviously underestimated his girl.
His girl.
What the fuck?
As if she could hear his thoughts, she blew him a kiss before tossing up her middle finger. Apparently, his girl could be competitive when she wanted to be.
Ironically, on Jimmy’s first toss, the arrogant little shit’s beanbag skidded across the platform and landed on the ground with a perfect plop.
“What is that?” Mike cupped his hand around his ear. “The sound of my name being scratched onto that trophy?”
