Page 37 of Bad Boy for Hire
Lisa set aside her empty coffee cup and stood. “Well, I just wanted to drop off coffee and find out the details. Unless there’s anything else you need to discuss, I’m going to run to Abundance Market for fresh fruit.” Lisa’s eyebrows were raised expectantly. May knew her friend well. If there was anything she wanted to hash out, Lisa would postpone her produce run and spend the day lending an ear and offering advice.
But everything was too fresh, and May was too fragile. Instead of opening up, she shook her head. “No, I’m good. Have fun shopping for fruit.”
“You know it, sister.” Lisa gave May a peck on the cheek. By the time she was reversing out of the driveway, May was standing at her window watching, the truth hovering in the room around her. Telling Lisa what had occurred last night would have made it real—and May wasn’t ready for that to be real.
Not now.
If ever.
Chapter Twelve
After he dropped off May, Xavier called his buddy Griffin to see if he wanted to meet up at Swing!, a driving range/restaurant in the Cove. They had come out and hit balls a few times. Once at the grand opening this past spring and another time over the summer.
Xavier doubted his golf game had improved since those two previous visits, but scoring well was the furthest thing from his mind. He needed to occupy his hands to keep his mind from turning over last night. Golf seemed as good a distraction as any.
He would have called Brady or Ant to discuss what had happened with May, but the more he thought about it, the worse an idea it became. He’d be essentially asking them to keep secrets from their ladies. Xavier didn’t like secrets between couples. For obvious reasons.
Plus, Elliott and Lourdes were two of May’s closest friends, so it wouldn’t be fair to ask them to keep a secret from May. If May chose to tell her friends, that was up to her. He wouldn’t be responsible for a breach if there was one.
The midday sun was high in the sky, no clouds. Two beer cups sat sweating on an umbrella-covered table. They were saved from the late summer heat by a slight breeze that ruffled Xavier’s hair and offered some reprieve. Griffin stood at the tee box, cranked back the driver, and brought it down for a perfect connection with the ball.
Xavier shielded his eyes, nearly losing sight of the white orb against the blue, blue sky. It dropped onto the grass just past a yardage marker that read 300.
“Three-hundred yards-plus? Damn,” Xavier said. “How is it that you’re good at everything? Makes me hate you a little.”
“Not good at everything.” Griffin allowed the driver’s shaft to slide through his palm until the head was resting on his hand. The cocksure tilt of his mouth hinted that he didn’t completely disagree with Xavier’s assessment.
Xavier had met Griffin Rhodes, of all places, at his former job. Griff was Evergreen Cove’s premier wealth manager, overseeing the investments and accounts of high-paid executives and local celebrities. That had included Xavier’s boss at Evergreen Cove Defense Fabricators. Turned out his ex-boss, Robert, had plenty of money to invest—more than Xavier could have imagined at the time.
Griffin, naturally curious, had poked his head into Xavier’s office to ask what he was up to, joking, “Or will you have to kill me if I ask?” Over the course of the two years Xavier worked there, he and Griffin became acquaintances bordering on friends.
Three years ago, Griffin had come into Salty Dog, having no idea Xavier had been laid off or subsequently bought one of the Cove’s beloved bars. When he learned both of those facts, he’d called his assistant and instructed her to “Dump Robert Sedlack as a client immediately. We’re never working with him again.” Despite Xavier’s insistence that Griff didn’t have to do that, he’d appreciated the solidarity. Then the two spent the evening sipping beers and cementing what was shaping up to be a lifelong friendship.
After he crushed another 300-plus yard bomb, Griff offered the driver to Xavier. “Your turn.”
The man was tough to categorize. He wore expensive suits and a Rolex, rode a motorcycle, played the guitar, and was great at golf. He was dark and intense sometimes and at others so loose someone would swear that the serious version of him was proof that he had a twin brother.
“Name one thing you’re not good at,” Xavier said, picking up the conversation from earlier.
“I can’t cook.”
“A useless pastime for a rich guy.”
“Takes one to know one.” Griff lifted his beer cup and took a hearty drink. Xavier still had a hard time wrapping his head around being “a rich guy.” He thought it might have been because of all he’d done in his life, the development and selling of the app had been the easiest and the most profitable. Which had challenged the idea of him having to work overtime to make ends meet.
“Can’t keep a woman,” Griffin offered.
“I didn’t realize you were trying to keep a woman.” Xavier took a few practice swings and then teed up a golf ball that had seen better days.
“You shouldn’t have to try to keep one. Turn your shoulders more on the backswing.”
Xavier did as his friend instructed. That felt awkward in his body but damn good when the club connected with the ball. It ricocheted off the 250-yardage sign and rolled a few feet forward.
“Not bad,” Griffin praised.
“What do you mean you shouldn’t have to try? Like it just magically worked out for Brady or Ant?”
“Sure as fuck would take some magic for it to work out for me.” Griffin angled one chair so that it was in the shade and then sat. Xavier joined him. “For you, it’s not magic. It’s timing. Look at you and May. You chose your moment, and it was the right moment. How’d the wedding go, by the way?”
