“Word around town is she’s the one to beat. She was at Sunday dinner last night, huh? Willow loved her. I ran into her at the market earlier today. How’d dinner go for you?”
Easy. That’s the only thing I can think of. Having Mallory around was natural. Everyone loved her. Too bad I can’t actually pursue her.
Since Cy knows me better than almost anyone, there’s no use lying to him. “It was good. Much better than any of my dates withthe other women so far,” I admit. “But it’s early,” I add. “And she’s way too good for me.”
Cy stares me down. “You scared, boy?”
“Of what?”
“Falling for her?”
I bite back the words that are on the tip of my tongue:too late.
Cy’s bushy eyebrows raise up. “Here she is now.”
I spin around in time to see Mallory striding up the pathway toward the clubhouse. Her hair is slicked back into a ponytail, and she’s wearing her usual polo shirt and golf skirt. She’s got on a long-sleeve black shell for warmth. I wish she was still wearing my sweatshirt. Something protective and primal stirred inside me at the sight of her in my clothes last night.
I close my eyes briefly and blink the memory away. I cannot be thinking about her like that right now.
She nods her greeting to me before reaching out her hand to Cy. “Mallory Walsh. Thanks for having us. You must be Cy.”
“I am.” Cy shakes her outstretched hand, and his smile crinkles at his eyes. “You’re most welcome here. Any friend of Holland’s is a friend of ours. Make yourselves at home.”
“We will.” She turns to me. “Ready to get started?”
She’s got her mask on—her blank face. It’s Mallory, but she’s toned down from the fiery woman I see when I’m one-on-one with her. She’s muted for the general population.
This version of Mallory bugs me. It’s not the full her. For some reason, I want Cy to see the real-deal Mallory. The passionate woman with opinions and a quick tongue.
“You’re late, you know.” I tell her. “Did you stay out too late last night?
“Yeah, with your parents.” Her eyes flash, and she checks her watch before scowling at me. “I’m not late. Come on. Let’s get started.”
“Hold on a sec. Cy here was telling me you’re a fan favorite.”
“What?” Mallory frowns. “A fan favorite?” She glances at Cy, who is watching us interact with interest.
He beams back at her. “Nothing to worry about. Nothing at all. It’s just that folks around town are rooting for you and Holland here to hit it off on more than the golf course, if you know what I mean.”
Bless Cy’s heart. We all know what he means, and the eyebrow wagging isn’t necessary.
“Oh. Well. That’s…nice.” I think Mallory is attempting to smile, but it looks more like a wince.
My lips quirk up, but I fight back a grin at her reaction. Maybe I should be offended that the thought of being paired up with me romantically has her looking like she’s just been told she was exposed to a nasty rash and chances of catching it are ninety-five percent. But messing with her is worth the hit to my pride.
Cy laughs a big, booming laugh. “Don’t look so happy about it.”
Mallory scrunches up her face. “Sorry. I know everyone here adores Holland, and I’m sure the rest of the women on the show do too.”
Adore me for what reason, though? My mind flashes to the catfight and the sour taste it left in my mouth about these women and their motivations. At least with Mallory, I know exactly where I stand.
“I sense a ‘but’ coming,” Cy says, his lips quirking upward.
“But…” she continues, matching his wry grin.
“There it is.” Cy grins back.
Mallory flicks her gaze to me and then back to Cy. “Can you keep a secret?” she asks him.
