True. He was here for work, and that could end. “I know you want to find a lead, but maybe you’ll still be tracking your missing man.”
“Case is cold,” he said. “The PD might call me back at any time for bigger problems.”
Her heart dropped. She didn’t want him to leave, but his home was in Pensacola, an hour away. They’d find a new normal. Wouldn’t they?
She just wasn’t sure what it was and from the look on his face? Neither was he.
They didn’t get a chance to discuss it because the massive red Goofy Golf sign grabbed their attention.
Mid-week, with most of the spring break crowds finally thinning, the parking lot at Goofy Golf was only half full. There were some families and a group of teenagers taking pictures with the enormous green dinosaur.
Still holding hands, they walked toward the entrance.
“Wow.” Vivien sighed out the word, a hundred different emotions bubbling inside.
“I know,” Peter said. “It hasn’t changed.”
She looked up at him, focusing on one of those emotions—the strongest one. “It’s so comfortable,” she whispered.
“Goofy Golf?”
“No. Us—our shared history. It’s so nice to know someone that long and have all those old memories.”
He narrowed his brown eyes and leaned in. “Not too comfortable, I hope.” He closed the space with the lightest kiss. “Don’t trap me in the Friend Zone, Viv.”
Her heart tumbled around, wondering if that’s what she was doing. She inched back and looked up at him, not exactly sure what to say. “Depends on if you let me win or not.”
“Not,” he said. “You are not stealing a favorite article of clothing for another three days.”
“Okay…then let’s see who the champ is now.”
Laughing, Peter ushered her to the entrance, paid for their round and handed her a purple ball. “I seem to recall you like this color.”
She took it from him, inexplicably pleased that he remembered that one little detail about teenage Vivien. “The color of champions.”
They set off down the first hole, weaving through a fiberglass jungle of oversized animals and strange fake buildings. Every statue was just as bizarre and delightful as she remembered—creepy clowns, off-kilter castles, and a kangaroo with a golf club glued to its paw.
Peter took his time lining up his first shot, shimmying his shoulders like he was on the opening hole of the Masters. “You ready for this level of skill?”
“Please. You peaked in 1990.”
He laughed and took his shot, brushing against her as he stepped aside to let her line up. “Let me know if I can put my arms around you and help you with that weak-sauce stance.”
“Hush your smack talk, Detective. Don’t mess with the champ.” She tapped the ball, which barely made it toward the green. “Okay, okay. I need to warm up.”
“Take all the time you need, Viv.” He gave her another light kiss on the top of her head just before taking his shot—and sinking it—but something was tugging at the back of her mind.
Not something—someone.
Danny.
Now,hewasn’t comfortable. Was that good—or bad? And why was she thinking about him?
She was on a date with Peter, a man she adored. But she kept thinking about Danny, with his roguish grin and easy wit andmillion-dollar lifestyle. He made her feel like she was twenty-five and giddy, not a fifty-year-old divorcee trying to rebuild a fairly shattered life with an old…friend? Crush?
Really, whatwasPeter in her life?
Peter gave her a playful nudge as she put her putter behind the ball. “You’re over-thinking, Champ.”
