Page 33 of Pros Don't

I toss it on the cart’s dashboard and start driving us back toward the clubhouse. “I’m fine.” I’m grasping for something normal to talk to her about, to take the attention away from myself. “You get home okay with Poppy and Mack?”

“Yeah. They were great. Poppy talked my ear off about some place called Wool Beach. I feel like I have a new best friend.” Mallory smiles at the memory, but then she turns serious. “Are you still into her?”

My foot slips off the gas pedal, and the golf cart slows. I grip the steering wheel and reposition my body to continue the winding drive along the golf course path.

I glance over at her. “What do you mean?”

“I…you looked…off. Last night on the patio. When we were talking about Poppy’s childbearing hips and how the two of you used to date.”

I study her for a long minute. She reaches up to tighten her ponytail and won’t meet my gaze. She’s uncomfortable, and I want to know why. A little bell is ringing in my ears, heralding the sweet sound of hope. Like maybe, just maybe, she cares enough to be worried about me.

“Am I really that pathetic that you think I’m still holding a flame for my brother’s wife? The woman he’s madly in love with?” I press the brake pedal and pull the cart to a stop, waiting for her to look at me.

She grimaces, and there’s uncertainty in her gaze when it meets mine. It’s a new look for her. “I—I’m sorry. Forget I mentioned it.”

“Oh, heck no. This needs more of a discussion. Now, for the second time in the last hour, you’ve got me wondering if you actuallycareabout me and my feelings.“ My lips curve up, because this is new too, and I’m not going to lie…I love it.

“Absolutely not, except to the extent that it affects your golf game. If you’re going to be pining over a woman who you absolutely can’t have, then I need to know about it, because it could be taking up valuable head space, and I can’t have that.”

“Then you’ll be happy to hear that I definitely do not have feelings for Poppy. I’m ashamed of how I treated her,” I admit. “Two years ago, when Poppy and I started dating, I was just breaking in to the pro golf world. You remember how I was back then?”

She snorts. “Who could forget?”

I crack a smile. “One hundred percent golf-minded, egotistic in my pursuit of my goal, which was to be the next Tiger Woods—minus all the personal life issues, of course.

“Poppy was collateral damage. I like to believe I wasn’t directly awful to her, more like awful by omission. I was selfish. I took advantage of her goodness when we were dating, and that’s not how I want to be. Since she’s in my family now, the reminder ofhow I treated her, my carelessness where that relationship was concerned, is sort of hard to forget.”

Mallory’s mouth forms a perfect O shape. That’s not what she was expecting me to say. I can tell by the way she isn’t ready with her usual quick and dismissive response to my antics. It feels good to tell her the truth, to let her see a side of me that she’s never seen. Not many people have, because I haven’t let them. It’s been easier to lean into the caricature of professional-athlete playboy. Most of the women I’ve been with before and after Poppy wanted me for my looks or my fame. That’s been okay with me, because I wasn’t ready to commit.

I want Mallory to know I recognize the error in my ways where Poppy is concerned. I’m not still pining for her. No way. But I want to find someone for me like Poppy is for Mack. A partner. A friend. The love of my life.

That’s the whole point ofMost Eligible Mister, crazy as it seems.

Mallory smooths the seam of her skirt. “Oh. Okay, then.”

“Does that surprise you?” I press the gas again and drive onward, but I hit a bump in the cart path, and my scorecard billfold slides across the dash. I swipe for it before it lands in her lap. She reaches for it at the same time but yanks her hands back when our fingers tussle.

I tuck the billfold next to my leg, and she traces the movement of my hand before meeting my gaze.

“Yes. No. I don’t know. It’s good, I guess. That’s all good. Self-growth and self-analysis…signs of mental toughness. Very good. And good that you don’t love Poppy. Because that would be messy. Yikes. Um, thanks for telling me.”

“Happy to. Now, question for you.”

She cocks her head to the side, waiting on me.

“Would you like me to let you know if there happens to be any other woman I start pining over who I absolutely can’t have? You know, so you can adjust your coaching accordingly to account for her taking up valuable head space and all that?”

Like you.

I leave those two small words unspoken, but I can’t not think them.Shecould take up valuable head space, and not just the reminders about how I position my shoulder or the rate of my swing. If I let myself, I could get lost in her eyes and get caught up daydreaming about wrapping her fiery red hair around my hand and tugging her mouth to mine. And…

“That won’t be necessary. We should keep things professional.”

I hold her gaze, and her green eyes flicker with gold in the late-afternoon sun.

“But didn’t you ask me about Poppy? You brought this on. Now I think weshouldget personal. Very personal.”

She punches me in the shoulder. “Cut it out, Bradley.

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