“Let’s do it, then,” I agree.
We enter the water and begin maneuvering our floats between people. With so many people in such a tight space, it quickly becomes a game of bumper boats. After apologizing to the first few couples we inadvertently bump out of our way, Layne starts to laugh. When the next person is knocked out of our way, her cackles are contagious and soon we’re both devilishly laughing as we paddle through.
“Umm, Ace?” The uncertainty in her voice is so unlike her normal demeanor.
“What’s wrong, babe?”
“Is that safe?” She nods downstream, and I turn my head to follow her line of sight.
“Do you want to get in my tube with me so I can protect you? I’ll make room for you right here.” I point to the area between my chest and the inside wall of the tube.
She looks around to see if anyone is watching before she flips me off. “You making fun of me now, Sharp?”
“No way, babe. This is actually one of the best ideas I’ve ever had. With you in that itty-bitty-bikini, we could make this race a whole lot more interesting real fast.” I wink, and with a seductive bow of my head to the side, I give her an open invitation to join me.
“You are such a bad influence. And here I thought you were a good guy,” she teases back.
“I’m much better than good, babe. You already know that.”
“You didn’t answer me,” she evades. But her cheeks are red, showing she’s more affected than she lets on.
“It’s perfectly safe, I promise. They’re barely even class one rapids. It just gets shallow and the water rushes over the rocks. But you’re still welcome to join me if it’d make you feel better.”
“As inviting as that sounds, I still want to win so I have to stay in my own float.”
“Follow my lead,” I smirk. “I’ll get you there.”
We easily traverse the scary rapids, dodge the other floaters, and the finish line comes into sight as we round the last curve. She squeals in excitement because only a few other couples are in front of us now.
“Kick, Ace! Put those legs to work!”
The water splashes up behind us from the turbine created by our legs. We power through the water, passing other couples who try to use their arms to propel them, and we cross the finish line first as a team. As a couple. Paddling over to the bank, we drag our floats onto the shore and meet the announcer.
“We have a winner, folks! What’s your name, young lady?” Harold, the announcer, is one of those two-hundred-year-old men who was checking Layne out before the race. Now that she’s dripping wet, I’m genuinely concerned he’ll have a stroke just from standing beside her.
“My name is Layne Elliott,” she says into the microphone.
“I’ve known this young man his whole life. Congratulations, Ace Sharp. You have a beautiful race partner here.”
“I completely agree, Harold,” I reply and keep my eyes locked on Layne’s.
Harold gives us each a cheap trophy with a generic label that simply says “Winner.” Layne seems especially thrilled with the token of achievement as she takes it from him.
“Here you go, young lady. Compliments of Oak Grove City Council—and me.” Harold winks.
The next couple exits the water and Harold takes the opportunity to pat Layne on the back, dismissing us so he can talk to the first runner-ups. Layne steps into my side and I put my arm around her, letting my hand rest on her lower back.
“Let’s go grab your bag,” I suggest with my mouth close to her ear. “So you can put that shirt back on.”
She throws her head back in laughter, knowing I’m only partially serious, and softly shakes her head. “Just to be clear, I’m putting my shirt back on because I don’t want to get burned out here in the full sun. Not because you’re ordering me to.”
“Fair enough. As long as it’s on, I don’t care why.”
“Excuse me. I don’t see a shirt covering you. I can see your man nipples.”
“Do you want to touch them?”
“Are you always going to be this difficult?”
“Damn straight.”
It feels good to have this lighthearted banter with her. It feels right to have her at my side, my arm around her, and showing everyone I’ve known my whole life that she’s mine. Some of the single ladies in town who have been after me for the last few years give us dirty looks as we walk by, but if Layne notices, she doesn’t react to it. She holds her head high and continues to chat while we make a path back to the huge live oak where we left her bag.