Page 77 of Pros Don't

Pump the brakes, my guy.

Again with the unhelpful brain commentary.

I grip her hands tighter in mine, silencing the doubting voice being fueled by the insecurities in my head. “You don’t have to say anything. You don’t owe me anything. This has been a hell of a morning for you. I’m sorry to pile on. Truly. But I couldn’t let you think that I didn’t have your back in that interview room. I was panicking because I wanted to have your back.” I pull in a breath. “If you want to leave here after we get back to the clubhouse and go home to Florida, to your family, I won’t stop you. I want you to be happy, and I only want good things for you, even if that means I can’t explore a relationship with you. You will have a job with me until you don’t want it anymore, regardless. I don’t want you to ever worry about that.”

She presses her lips together and nods. “I appreciate that.”

“It’s the truth.” A flicker of a smile tugs at her lips, and I dip my chin to recapture her gaze. “If there’s a chance you’d be willing to see where this could go with me, please tell me. I promise, I will always respect you and stand up for you. I will always be there for you…like you’ve been there for me.”

Mallory searches my gaze, and I hold her eye contact, hoping my words landed. After a couple seconds, she squeezes my hands.

“Can you give me a little while to think about all this? It’s been a hell of a morning, like you said.”

“Of course. I’m going to be here, and whatever your decision is, we’ll figure it out going forward. If that means a workingrelationship only, I respect that. If it’s something new and different, we’ll walk that road together too, okay?”

“Look at you, usingMEMjargon, talking about thisjourney.“ She emphasizes the word with a funny accent.

I grin, grateful to see some of the spark back in her eye, even as she sobers.

“I’m going to go back to the inn. I want to call my mom,” she adds quietly.

“Yeah, absolutely.” I check the clock on my phone. “Just so you know, I’m supposed to go on a date tonight.”

“They’re doing the letter opening when I get back from practice here,” she says with a nod.

“Spoiler alert: it’s a date with you.”

She blows out a breath. “Oh boy. Okay. Well, maybe this is good.”

I cock my head to the side.

“Either this will be the perfect opportunity for you to declare on camera that we’re better off as coach and player and nothing romantic is going on, or…”

“Or to show the world that I’m falling for you.” I keep my face serious. Because it’s the truth.

“Or…that.” Her cheeks are pink.

I nod slowly. “I hope it’s that,” I admit. “No pressure,” I add with a wan smile.

She huffs out a laugh. “I’ll text you this afternoon with how I’m feeling, okay?”

I squeeze her hands and let go, sliding out of her golf cart.

“Do you want a ride back to the clubhouse?” she asks.

“I think I’ll walk.” I’m hit with a sudden burst of inspiration. “Hold on one sec, though.”

I jog over to my golf bag and grab the little notebook I use to jot down ideas and things I want to remember during practice and about the courses I’m going to be playing. I use the pencil I have wedged into the spiral binding. I scratch out a message andfold it up. I walk back over to where Mallory is watching me, one eyebrow arched.

I hand the paper to her. “Open it later.”

She hesitates and then takes it, tucking it into the pocket of her skirt. “Okay. I’ll be in touch.” She turns the key in the ignition, stares straight ahead, and then turns to me again. “And Holland?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks, for all of it.”

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