Page 37 of Tee the Season
I slam the door, grab my duffel bag from the back and stand on the snowy sidewalk, staring in the window, searching for her dark hair, but it’s not anywhere to be seen.
My heart hammers. My palms sweat, despite the cold. This is it. No safety net. No backup plan. Just me and the truth and hoping like hell the woman I’ve fallen for feels even a fraction of what I do.
I take a deep breath of icy air and grab the doorknob.
Chapter seventeen
Tabitha
I’m standing in the children’s corner, staring at the reading chair. The same chair where Rory sat, dressed as Santa, just yesterday. Where I watched him transform into someone patient and gentle and perfect. Where we had sex that made me forget every rule I’d set for myself.
I can’t keep the chair. Every time I see it, every time I sit on it, I’ll remember. The way his voice dropped when he read to those kids. How his hands gripped the armrests as I—
I squeeze my eyes shut. No. Not going there.
The chair has to go.
I turn back to my open laptop, the browser tab open to a furniture website. I’ve already found three potential replacements. Chairs without memories.
The bell above the door chimes, and I scramble to my feet, eager for distraction, for normalcy. For last-minute Christmas shoppers and recommendation requests and the unmistakable Starlight Bay holiday spirit I need right now.
But when I round the corner of the display case, it’s not a customer who’s just come in.
It’s Rory. With his duffel bag.
My heart does something painful and complicated in my chest before I can shut it down. He’s standing just inside the door, snow dusting his shoulders, that thin jacket still not warm enough, and he’s looking at me as if he’s trying to memorize the sight.
“Did you forget something?” I stammer, because that’s the first thought that pops into my head. The only rational reason I can think of to explain why he’s back when he should be on his way to the airport right now. On his way to catch a plane destined for Texas for Christmas.
“I didn’t forget anything.” He drops his duffel bag to the floor and takes a step toward me. “Except to tell you the truth.”
My stomach drops. “The truth about what?”
“I’m not going to the airport.” Another step. “I have a job interview at theStarlight Bay Country Clubthis afternoon.”
I blink. Process. “An interview?”
“Head golf pro position. Teaching, course management, some tournament prep.” He’s watching me carefully.
“At theStarlight Bay Country Club?”
“Yeah.”
“Since when?”
“Two days ago.”
The admission hits like a physical blow. He’s known for two days he had an interview here in Starlight Bay and said nothing? He waved goodbye less than an hour ago as if it were forever. Walked away, letting me think he was leaving. For good.
Heat floods my face. Anger and hurt surging up my throat. My hands curl into fists, and my voice rises. “Why didn’t you say anything? You left knowing I believed—”
“Because I was scared.” The admission is raw, honest. “Scared you don’t feel the same way about me that I feel about you.”
I grip the edge of a bookshelf, my brows furrowing. “What?”
He steps closer still but doesn’t touch me. Which is smart because, if he were to try, I’d pull away.
“I didn’t want to tell you about the interview in case you didn’t want me to stay.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Didn’t want to put myself out there just to watch you shut down, put those walls back up.”
