She sets her mug down and strolls over, mischief in her eyes. “You know… I’ve never seen you play. Only heard the stories.”
“What stories?”
She lifts her brow, already smiling. “Your dad says you slice like a drunk pirate.”
I laugh under my breath. “Yeah, that sounds like him.” I shake my head. “He talks a lot of shit, but the truth is he’s good. Always has been. I get a lot of my skills from him. Athleticism, drive, competitive streak that won’t quit.”
Her eyes soften a little. “So you’re saying you’d impress me?”
I step closer, dropping a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “I’m saying you’d fall in love with me all over again.”
“That sounds like a challenge.”
“It is.” I grab a spare visor off the hook by the door and toss it her way. “Get dressed, sweetheart. You’re coming with.”
“Wait—really?”
“You think I’m gonna say no to having you witness me crush my brother in real time?” I pause, smirking. “Besides, having those big hazel eyes on me? That’s something I need in my life.”
She laughs, already walking to our bedroom. “If you lose, you can’t blame me for being a distraction.”
“You’re always a distraction.”
“Damn right I am.”
The sun’s warm enough to feel good on my shoulders. Not a cloud in the sky. This morning was made for a perfect game—and if I’m lucky––a little showing off for my bride-to-be.
We swing by the pro shop before heading to the tee. Magnolia eyes the women’s section, running her fingers across the rack of skorts and sleeveless tops. She holds up one tiny white set, brow cocked. “Too much?”
I give her a slow once-over, let my eyes drag from her bare legs to the tight curve of her waist. “Never.”
She smirks. “I’ll meet you outside.”
Ten minutes later, she struts out in that outfit, ponytail high, lip gloss shining. The top hugs her tits in ways I’m not strong enough to ignore. And the skirt? Short enough to qualify as cruel and unusual punishment. All I can think about is how fast I can get us back home after eighteen holes.
Elias is already waiting at the first tee box, club in hand, smirk locked and loaded.
“Well, well. Wasn’t aware this was a spectator sport.”
Magnolia lifts a hand in a lazy wave. “I’m here to see if the legend of Alex-Bagger-Vance-Sebring lives up to the hype.”
“Legend, my ass.” Elias chuckles. “Have you heard about his slice?”
“You love telling that story, don’t you?” I grin, stepping up to shake his hand, our ritual before playing.
“What can I say? Dad tells it like it’s gospel.”
“The worst slice of my life. But give me a break—Magnolia had just gone back to the States, and I didn’t know when I would see her again.” I glance back at her with a mock-wounded expression. “I was emotionally compromised.”
She laughs from the cart, sunglasses tipped down just enough to meet my eyes. “Hey, don’t blame me for your tragic golfing skills.”
I chuckle and turn back to the tee. “I’m the happiest man on earth now. Which means you’d better be ready, little brother.”
I nod toward the tee box. “You’re up first.”
He steps forward, tees his ball, and glances over at Magnolia. “You might want to avert your eyes, teine. Watching greatness can be overwhelming.”
“Oh, don’t worry,” she says, settling into the cart. “I’m saving all my applause for the winner.”
