Page 135 of Pack Plus One

“I don’t recall asking about the others.” Aah! When did I get so bold?

Liam swallows visibly. “Leah...”

“Just for a little while,” I add, suddenly unsure. “We could have tea.”

The smile that spreads across his face is knowing. “We both know tea is not what would happen if I stepped through that door right now.”

The heat in his gaze makes me shiver. “Would that be so terrible?”

“No,” he murmurs, stepping closer despite his earlier restraint. “But I’ve waited this long to have you to myself. When I do, I plan to take my time. Hours, not minutes.”

The promise in his voice sends a cascade of anticipation down my spine. “I’ll hold you to that, doctor.”

His eyes darken at the nickname. “Please do.” He brushes his lips against my forehead, a touch so light it’s barely there. “Goodnight, Leah.”

I watch him walk away, already looking forward to whatever Caleb, Jude, and Mason have planned for their turns. If Liam’s courtship is any indication, I’m in for quite a week.

27

LEAH

Jude cheats at mini-golf with the precision of a master criminal.

“Natural talent!” he declares, using his club togentlynudge my ball into the hole from three feet away. His grin is all wicked alpha charm as he plucks the ball out and hands it to me, fingers brushing mine just a second too long.

I swat his arm. “You’re terrible at this.”

“At golf?” He leans in until his citrus-and-woodsmoke scent drowns out the stale pond water. “Absolutely. At admiring you?” His voice drops to a purr. “Undefeated champion.”

I roll my eyes, but my pulse jumps when he produces a blue slushie fromnowhereand presses the cold cup into my hand. “As Mason would say, hydration is key,” he murmurs, watching me take the first sip with those predator-bright eyes.

Then heruinsthe moment by turning to the family at Hole 4 and stage-whispering: “Psst—kid. Wanna see a magic trick?”

Before I can stop him, Jude:

1. “Borrows” the dad’s club (“Tactical acquisition”)

2. Lines upthree ballsat once

3. Sinks them all in a single, physics-defying shot

The crowdgasps. The teenage employees start filming. The manager turns purple, glaring at Jude.

Jude bows like he’s accepting an Oscar, then tosses the club back to the stunned dad. “Worth it,” he tells me as he laces our fingers together and leads me toward the exit. “Did you see that eight-year-old’s face? I’ve made a core memory.”

I’m laughing despite myself. “I’ve said it many times, but you are ridiculous.”

Jude bows with theatrical flourish.

I can’t help laughing as he grabs my hand and pulls me toward the exit. His enthusiasm is infectious, his joy in the moment so genuine that it’s impossible not to get caught up in it.

“I had plans for the next hole,” he says as we emerge into the parking lot. “I was going to spell your name in golf balls. It would have been very romantic.”

“And entirely against the rules,” I point out, still smiling despite myself.

“Rules are just suggestions with better marketing,” he says dismissively, slinging an arm around my shoulders. “Now, I believe I promised you the Best Date Ever.”

He guides me to the car, opening the door and waiting for me to get in. “Onward to Plan B!”

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