Page 14 of Before You Say I Do
On being in public.
But it wasn’t easy when her libido had woken up, and her heartrate had decided today was the day to practise sprints.
“You see what I mean?” Abby dropped the club slowly, rotating through the swing and over Jordan’s shoulder.
Then her expectant face was peering around and into Jordan’s.
Could Abby hear how loud her heart was beating? Jordan hoped not.
Abby let Jordan go and stepped back.
Jordan cleared her throat, shaking her body, ignoring her fluster.
Because the fact was, it had made a difference.
She now saw how to hold the club, and also how far she had to swing.
“Focus on the ball, and put your all into it. Try again.”
Abby stepped right back, as Jordan wiggled her hips in exaggerated fashion.
Abby let out another healthy chuckle. “You’re certainly looking the part. Now it’s a short step until you actually hit a ball.”
“Stands to reason, right?” Jordan raised her club, holding it correctly. But she only succeeded in smashing it into the fake grass underneath her. The vibrations as she connected with the ground zapped up her arm. She grimaced, taking a step back.
“Try again,” Abby told her. “I hit the ground constantly when I started.”
“I don’t believe that.” Jordan took a deep breath, focused, swung and hit the ball, but also the tee. The heavy thud shook her ears, and she watched as her ball trickled off the tee and onto the range. She’d hit it, barely.
Behind her, Abby burst into a round of applause. “First hit ball! It’s only up from here.”
Jordan turned and raised an eyebrow. She knew sympathy clapping when she heard it.
* * *
An hour later,all the balls had been hit. Jordan was at the bar, getting drinks. She’d insisted as a thank you for Abby’s patience. The truth was, Abby had enjoyed it. She was good at golf, particularly the driving part, and she thought more women should do it as a form of exercise and a way of letting off steam. Jordan hadn’t been proficient at first, but halfway through, after she got her first decent connection and sent a ball airborne, her manner had changed. Then, she’d been eager to hit more balls, and sad when it ended.
Abby had invited Marcus because she thought she had to. She’d never brought Delta, who was golf-averse. Her mum had come once, and loved it, but hadn’t had time to return with her crazy work schedule. When Jordan had asked Abby to take her to a place that described who she was, the driving range was what first sprang to mind. It wasn’t her job, which was something she did for money. It wasn’t her home, which she hadn’t taken the time to furnish as she should.
For Abby, this was where she came to think, to be herself. Sometimes, she just came to have a beer on this patio, overlooking the range. Marcus didn’t like bars like these, preferring restaurants or cocktail bars. It felt strangely thrilling to be in here with someone else. Someone she felt at home with already. She’d invited Jordan into her inner sanctuary, and it felt okay. That wasn’t lost on Abby.
Jordan was walking towards her now, concentration on her face as she tried not to spill their beers, a packet of Walkers Salt & Vinegar crisps dangling from her mouth. The last button on her black shirt was undone, revealing a little of Jordan’s flat midriff. Her golden hair was styled just-so, and she was wearing a pair of Nike trainers that Abby had looked at herself a few weeks ago. Marcus had told her they were “unclassy”.
They didn’t look unclassy on Jordan.
Nothing had so far.
Maybe she should have bought them. Although it would have been embarrassing if they’d both turned up wearing the same style.
“Here you go.” Jordan put the drinks on the table, then took the bag of crisps from her mouth. “I wasn’t sure if you were a crisp eater or whether you’d banned carbs in the run-up to your wedding. Most brides do. However, you did order an IPA, so I figured it was worth the risk. Plus, if you don’t want them, I’m sure I could polish them off.”
Abby shook her head as she took a sip of her beer. “I can help, have no fear. This is dinner tonight, so I think I can spare a crisp or two for today’s calories. Although no Instagram stories. If Marjorie saw this, she might have a heart attack.”
Jordan laughed, opening the pack wide so they could both dip in. “I met Marjorie the other day, and she was very nice to me.”
“Because you’re skinny. And pretty.”
Jordan looked at her like she was mad. “Says you. You’re hardly ugly. And I bet the last time you knowingly ate a slice of white bread was at least four years ago.”
