Page 4 of Tee the Season
I shake my head and refocus on my shot. After a practice stroke, I tap the ball. It rolls straight, but stops short of the glass.
“Speaking of the season,” Hays continues, crouching to line up his shot, checking angles as if he’s on the 18th at Pebble Beach. “I was thinking about talking to McKenna about recovery support.”
I nod, only half listening as he mentions his sports nutritionist. I’m too busy wondering whether Tabitha’s bookstore stays open late this time of year. Maybe, I could casually swing by tomorrow after Hays and I wrap up our planning meeting, make it seem like a coincidence.
I could act as if I’m there to browse for a Christmas present for my niece, Sophie, and feign surprise when I run into Tabitha, pretending I’d forgotten she owns the place. It’s my best option to see her because I sure as hell can’t ask Hays or Leah how to contact her. That would open a can of worms I’m not anywhere close to ready to unleash.
But I’m craving round two with that woman like she’s a glass of ice cold water after a day in the desert. Especially now that I’m back in the same zip code where round one blew my mind.
“Rory?” I blink to refocus on Hays, who’s studying me with raised eyebrows. “I asked what you thought about talking to McKenna.”
“Right. Yeah, good idea.” I take another pull of my beer, regretting for the hundredth time I didn’t get Tabitha’s number before I left town after the wedding. Regretting not stopping by to see her that day before my flight departed. Even though the gorgeous brunette had slipped out of my bed and out of my hotel room before dawn. And despite the fact we’d agreed to one night with no strings attached.
I haven’t been able to shake the memories. Or get the thought of her out of my system. Not a single day has passed that I haven’t reminisced about the way she felt underneath me, the sounds she made, how she laughed when I—
I shake off the train of thought. This is exactly why I need round two. One more night to break the spell she cast.
I’ve never had trouble walking away before her. I’ve never given a woman a second thought once I left town. Tabitha caught me off guard. But I’m ready for her this time.
“The GM atStarlight Bay Country Clubmentioned they’re looking for a head pro,” Hays says, taking a practice stroke. “Old one finally retired, and he asked if I knew anyone. Thought of you immediately.”
I straighten, the comment snapping me back to the present. “Are you firing me?”
Hays barks out a laugh. “Hell no. But it’s a great position at a world-class course. And you’ve got the skills for it—course management, strategy, patience, teaching experience.” He shrugs. “Just thought I’d mention it.”
My brain scrambles to process this. A golf pro job. Here. In Starlight Bay. The same town where—
“Your shot.” Hays gestures toward the ball.
I clear my throat. Right. The game.
“What’s the score?” I ask, rolling my shoulders.
Hays cocks a brow, the stupid tip of his lips making me regret the rookie mistake. He doesn’t hide the grin that widens behind his beer.
I keep score in my sleep. It’s my job. I’ve had a running tally ticking every time we’ve played anything. And definitely for every round of golf over the last fifteen years.
“You’re down by one,” he drawls, clearly amused. “And remember, a Snickers bar with almonds when I win.”
I roll my eyes at the reminder of the same stakes we’ve played for since we were nine and had to count our change at the corner store to buy the candy bars. “Game’s not over yet.”
He chuckles. “Might as well be, considering how distracted you are.”
It grates how right he is. Between my thoughts about Tabitha and now Hays mentioning the golf pro position, I’m off my game.
I grit my teeth and crouch behind the ball, focusing on the glass. It’s an easy shot, one I’ve made a hundred times in ahundred different hotel rooms over the years. I stand and line up the shot. Just a gentle tap, let it roll straight and—
The sound of the front door opening and laughter filling the air interrupts my concentration. Warm, genuine, with that slight rasp that’s haunted my dreams for months.
Tabitha.
My hand jerks, and when the club connects, the ball veers wide, missing the glass by a good four inches.
“Well, well.” Hays doesn’t even try to hide the knowing smirk that spreads across his face as his gaze flits toward the kitchen. “Not like you to choke like that.”
“You didn’t tell meshewas coming to dinner,” I mutter, my knuckles turning white.
“Ladies!” Hays calls toward the kitchen, his grin widening. “Perfect timing. Rory just handed me the win.”
