What he doesn’t understand is that I don’t have the rope he has. I don’t have the luxury of having fun, goofing off, and letting my emotions loose. I’m a woman in a male-dominated field. One ill-timed display of feeling, and at best, I’ll be called hormonal, and at worst, I’ll be branded a volatile woman who can’t be trusted to do her job. I hate that it’s how things are, but I’m not about to slip up and have everything I’ve worked for snatched out from under me. That already happened once with Brevan. At this point, I’m a professional at bottling up my emotions and keeping my outbursts contained until I’m alone or with people I can trust not to use them against me.
Poppy looks thoughtful. “I don’t know. I mean, you know your relationship with him the best, and you spend the most time with him, but are you sure about that? I swear Holland was moreattentive to you last night at his parents’ house than he was the entire two months I was dating him.”
I take a sip of my tea to buy myself some time, because the swoop in my gut is back, and it’s terrifyingly close to the fluttering feeling my mom was describing. There have been so many moments since we started filming this ridiculous show that I’ve seen another side to Holland. The panic attack, sure. But also the way he opened up in the car on the way to his parents’. The sweatshirt. Today, his honesty about Poppy and how he wants to be a better man.
His self-awareness is running in direct contradiction to the self-centered guy I’ve known him to be. When I told the other women that, outside of golf, I don’t know Holland at all, I was telling the truth. Now I’m realizing that maybe I was selling him short in what I was assuming about him.
“He’s been reaching out to Mack more lately,” Poppy goes on. “The two of them haven’t always had the closest relationship, but I get the sense they’re both putting in the effort to rebuild what they may have neglected over the years.”
“You may want to give him a chance,” Noli says carefully. “Take it from someone who had written off a man only to crash into love with him after getting to know him better.” She raises her hand.
I smile. “I’m happy for you. I don’t know if—“
I cut myself off as the subject of our conversation appears across the street. Holland is leaving the flower shop…and he’s not alone.
Rose squints out the window. “Is that—“
“Holland,” Poppy says, “with Candace Patchcab.”
“Who’s Candace Patchcab?” I ask, peering out toward Main Street.
Inez comes to stand by our table, setting down a sandwich in front of Rose. “The old lady who lives in the giant Victorian house right next to Daisy’s Inn. She’s sort of a loner.”
“Collin told me she was widowed when she was fifty-five,” Noli says. “That was twenty years ago, and she’s never been the same. Stopped coming around for town stuff. Yells at kids who cross her lawn. Puts off miserable vibes.”
Rose frowns. “That’s so sad.”
“The kids who come to the rec department are scared of her,” Poppy puts in.
“What’s Holland doing with her?” Noli asks what I imagine we’re all wondering.
“Did he mention anything to you at practice?” Poppy asks.
“Or were you too busy making out?” Rose deadpans. There’s athunkunder the table, and one of the other sisters must’ve given her a swift kick to the shin, because she cries, “Ow!” and then winks at me.
I shake my head. I don’t want to be amused, but I’m amused. “He didn’t say anything. But speaking of practice, I’ve gotta go. I was supposed to be back at Daisy’s Inn…like an hour ago.”
“I’m glad we ran into you.” Poppy stands and gives me a hug. “You have my number, so be in touch if you need anything while you’re in town. We’re all planning on coming to the Grand Masters, at least for the Saturday and Sunday rounds, but hopefully we’ll see you before then.”
I nod. “I’d like that.”
I walk outside, and I can see Holland and Candace a block ahead. They’re walking slowly enough that if I go at my usual clip, I’ll catch up to them before they reach Daisy’s.
I instinctively slow because the last thing I want to do is face Holland right now. Not when my arms are still doing their floaty thing, and my stomach is bubbling like a bottle of champagne someone is getting ready to pop open.
Holland has his head inclined toward Candace. Since he’s got her by a good nine inches, he’s hunched over and appears to be listening intently.
Curiosity sparks, and I’d love to be able to hear what they’re saying. What’s Holland doing with the town loner? Why do they look like this isn’t the first time they’re chatting? If I had to describe it, it seems as though they’re in each other’s confidence.
I trail them, careful to keep my distance.
Holland walks Candace to her door beyond the inn. She points her finger at him in a way that looks like she’s scolding, but he’s got a smile on his face.
It’s not his usual pie-eating grin. It looks softer, more indulgent, and again, I’m so curious. Candace disappears into the huge house, and Holland waits on the porch for a beat before turning and hopping down the stairs onto the front walk.
Dang it.
I dive into a nearby rose bush, praying I hid myself in time so that I can avoid—
