Hunt stopped and waited for her to catch up, his hands on his hips. Damn but his running tights should be declared illegal, she decided. The material clung to his muscled thighs and running behind him, catching glimpses of his perfect ass, was one of the few high points of this freezing day.
She wanted coffee, she wanted her parka, she wanted to lie down and sleep for a week. Really, she was too old to run at such a fast pace without much training.
She wasn’t sixteen anymore.
“Can you see the sports memorabilia store?” Hunt demanded when she reached him.
So that was what they were looking for. She’d forgotten. Looking around the quaint shops, her attention was caught by a vintage jewelry shop across the road, its window filled with the unusual and the quirky. Knowing it was her type of shop, Adie instinctively stepped off the sidewalk to cross the road but Hunt grabbed her top and hauled her back to his side.
“That’s not a sports memorabilia store.”
Well, no, but this store was more her style. She needed five minutes, just to see whether it was worth another visit. Hunt scowled at her suggestion. “We’re running a race, Ashby-Tate!”
“Five minutes can’t hurt,” Adie said, using her most cajoling tone.
“I know those eyes of yours could convince a monk to give up his vows of celibacy but they won’t work on me, not today,” Hunt told her, looking past her to scan the street. He lifted his arm and pointed. Adie saw a half-concealed sign showing just the first four letters ofSport.
Adie felt Hunt tug her down the street and she sent a look over her shoulder, mentally committing the name of the shop to memory because Mr. Competitive couldn’t give her five minutes.
Hunt allowed her to walk for about ten yards and when they could see all of the sign saying they’d found the right store, he broke into a fast jog. Adie, trailing behind him, leaped over a small dog on a leash in her haste to meet Hunt, who’d found the event company staffer. He stood next to a huge vertical banner advertising Hunt’s foundation and wore a red-and-green elf hat and pointy ears. A few feet from him a Santa Claus held a transparent bowl and collected donations from the Christmas shoppers and pedestrians. A small crowd had gathered in the hope of seeing some of their favorite sports stars.
Hunt greeted the young man and held out his hand for the next clue. The staffer, wearing a lime green Williams-Sheridan Foundation sweatshirt similar to their running tops, gave them a genial smile. “Hey, there, are you having a good run? Let’s take the photograph and get you on your way.”
Hunt removed his phone from the pouch on his bicep and prepared to take a photograph of the three of them, proof that they’d made the stop and at what time.
“Uh, where’s your bobblehead?”
Hunt frowned at the young man’s question and looked at Adie. Adie lifted her hands in an I-don’t-have-a-clue gesture. “What are you talking about?”
“Each team was given a bobblehead figure at the start of the race and you are supposed to have the figure in every photograph. If you don’t, you’ll get disqualified.”
Adie recalled the bobblehead figure someone handed to her and remembered Hunt saying it was Babe Ruth and he’d bring them luck. She’d left Babe, as far as she knew, on the table next to the young woman at the second stop, which was way back on the Lower East Side.
Hunt released a series of curses and placed his hands behind his head, gray eyes frustrated. “You are goddamn kidding me.”
“Sorry, I’m not. If you don’t have the bobblehead, you’ll be disqualified.”
“Why the hell didn’t the other guys giving clues tell us that?” Hunt demanded.
The kid shrugged. “They might be new or maybe they just forgot.”
They’d been doing so well so far and, because she’d left the bobblehead, all their efforts were in vain. Adie placed her hand on Hunt’s chest and stared up into his light eyes. “I’m so sorry, Hunt, I messed up.”
Instead of yelling at her as she expected him to do, he just lowered his arms and dredged up a smile. “It’s just a race, right?” He looked at the kid. “Can we carry on without the bobblehead?”
“Yeah, but you’re technically disqualified. But you know, you are the main dude so you’d probably still be in the running.” The kid smiled. “I mean, it’s not like they’re going to boot you out, right?”
Adie instantly knew that didn’t sit well with Hunt. He wanted to win, but he wanted to do it on a fair playing field. He didn’t want any special favors. She respected the hell out of him just for that. As much as she wanted to hail a taxi, get out of this freezing wind and stop somewhere for a hot cup of chocolate, she knew they had to finish the race, as a point of pride. He was representing a foundation that was founded on hard work, fairness and equity and he had to lead by example.
“Let’s carry on. We’ll tell them we’re disqualified, but at least we will have finished.” Adie suggested.
Hunt looked down at her and shook his head. “I’m going back.”
Adie’s mouth dropped open. “What do you mean?”
“I’m going to run back, get the bobblehead and then we’ll finish the race.” He shrugged. “I need to show the kids that you can’t cut corners, that a job worth doing is worth doing properly.” He looked at the young man, who’d pulled his elf hat over his pink ears. “Can I leave my partner here? It’ll be faster if I do it on my own.”
He shook his head, regretful. “Either you both do it and get the photos, or you’ll be disqualified.”