“She’s good for Holland. She doesn’t take any of his crap, but she also believes in him. He knows that, and he rises to the occasion to try to impress her and make her proud, on the course for sure, and off the course? Well, I guess we’ll all find out.” Drew chuckles.
I bite my lip. I should not be hearing this.
“Do you think Holland and Mallory could have a relationship beyond golf? Something romantic?” Callen asks.
“Anything is possible. I’d be all for it. Holland has more respect for Mallory than he has for almost anyone else. He’s told me as much. Respect is the foundation for any good relationship, isn’t it? Holland says Mallory brings out the best in him. She grounds him, and she makes him believe in himself. I don’t know why he wouldn’t want to pursue something more with her.”
I swallow and turn toward the kitchen again, putting an end to my inadvertent eavesdropping. The bathroom can wait. I go to the kitchen sink instead and find a glass for some water. I gulp itdown, past the tightness in my throat, giving myself a small pep talk.
What I overheard means nothing. Holland’s dad was sharing his thoughts. So what if he thinks we’d make a good match? That’s conjecture on his part. It changes nothing. In fact, Drew’s thoughts merely reiterate what I already know. Holland and I have a great working relationship. Nothing more. Nothing less.
I put my glass in the Bradleys’ dishwasher and make my way back outside. I take a seat at the patio table with Poppy, Rose, Noli, and Mia, and talk quickly turns to Mia’s pregnancy, which I appreciate. A very neutral topic, and it’s easy to gush about a new baby and all the things that go along with getting ready to welcome a little one into the world: registries, and nursery design, and how Mia and Rose now share ownership of Mia’s bookstore. I’m actually loving our conversation so much and am comfortable enough with these women that I don’t even jump when Holland comes up from behind me and puts his hand on my shoulder.
“Here.” He sets a sweatshirt in my lap. I glance up at him. At my furrowed brow, he shrugs. “You looked cold.”
I tug the well-worn, blue Cashmere Cove High School Golf Team sweatshirt over my head without thinking twice about how Holland figured out that I was freezing. It’s fleece-lined and cozy, and I can’t help but sigh as the warmth of it cocoons me.
“Thanks,” I whisper as the rest of the men join us, and we widen our circle.
Holland stares at me for a second. His gaze bounces to the faded front of the sweatshirt. I tug on the neckline, my skin tingling under his stare. Is he regretting handing over his sweatshirt? Maybe he should, because I might never give it back. Or is he thinking that it’s weird to see me, his coach, wearing something of his?
I don’t blame him. This whole thing is weird. I want to say so, but I’m mic’d up, and that would spoil the entire fake-dating thing we’ve got going on.
He shakes his head slightly and meets my eye. He swallows, smiles quickly, and then nods, directing his next question toward the group. “How’s it going over here?”
“Good. Talking about babies.” Poppy gets a gooey look in her eyes and glances up at Mack before letting out a laugh. “You know, the first time I came to Sunday dinner, Darla asked me if I wanted kids. She told me I had the hips for it.”
She winks at her mother-in-law, who has the grace to blush. “You know I didn’t mean it negatively,” Darla hurries to put in. “Since you brought it up, though, dear, I’m still waiting,” she teases.
“Ma, you can’t say things like that,” Mack complains. “It’s personal, and a lot of people have trouble getting pregnant anyway. You never know what people are going through.”
Holland’s brother’s voice is deep and serious, and Darla looks appropriately chastened.
Poppy leans forward and pats Darla’s arm. “It’s okay. Mack and I are enjoying each other’s company for now, but we definitely want to give you lots of grandbabies.
“TMI,” Noli says on a cough.
Poppy laughs. “You know, looking back, the funniest part of that entire conversation is that, at the time, I was dating Holland.”
Mack grunts. “Not that funny.” He hoists Poppy up so she’s sitting on his lap, securing his arm around her waist. I catch a glimpse of Holland in my periphery, and there’s a look on his face that’s a cross between a frown and a grimace.
Poppy wraps her arm around Mack’s neck and snuggles in. “Clearly, everything worked out for the best.”
I glance back at Holland, who is now smiling, but I can tell there’s some strain to it. It’s the look he gets when he wants people to think he’s happy as can be. The same look he gave AndyMason when he overheard him asking me to be his coach. He’s not actually happy.
My stomach sinks to my feet as a thought hits me. Is Holland still hung up on Poppy? Isthatwhy he signed up forMost Eligible Mister? To try to get over her?
I comb my memory and consider what I know about Poppy and Holland’s short relationship. They met in Florida. She moved to Cashmere Cove as he was going out on a couple longer legs of the tour. She broke it off with him and ended up dating Mack.
Holland never seemed too torn up over how things ended with Poppy. It didn’t affect his play, and there have been no shortage of dates or women since then. I never considered that he may still be pining over her.
The thought makes me…what? An uncomfortable sensation stirs in my chest, like a weight settling on my sternum. I side-eye Holland as I try to name it. What is it that I’m feeling exactly, as I watch him watch Poppy and Mack? Covetous? That’s ridiculous. I certainly don’t want Holland for my own. He’s impossible. And I’m not in the market.
Am I sad for him? I guess that could be it. It can’t be easy to watch your brother and the woman you’re into be together.
“Mallory?”
I blink and find the whole circle looking at me. “What? Sorry. I missed that.”
