“Did you and Rory compare notes?” I scoff.
She laughs. “You’re lucky to have him. But no, I don’t need to talk to Rory to see the obvious.”
She’s right. I can’t remember the last time I played for the joy of it. Even yesterday’s round with Sean and the groomsmen, I was grinding over every putt as it it was Sunday at Augusta. Sean just wanted to have fun with his buddies, and instead, I worked on my swing plane.
“You’re in your head, sweetheart,” she observes. “And as tough as your mental game is, you’re thinking too much about the finish line instead of playing each shot.”
“Leah said she’d be a distraction until I won a major. I told her she’d be the best thing that ever happened to my game.”
“Maybe, she wants to be more than just your lucky charm.”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” I insist, seeing now how I might have come across. “She’s more than that. A hell of a lot more.”
“How so?”
“Her debut novel comes out in just a few weeks. A whole novel. She sent me an early copy.”
“And?”
And there was no note this time, but each of the sexy scenes was flagged with a Post-It. Not that I’ll lead with that fact to my mom.
“It was incredible. She writes like she talks. I could almost hear her voice in my ears. It was brilliant and addictive.A small town romance full of heat and heartwas what the back-cover quote. I read the whole thing in one sitting. She’s got this way of making you care about people in just a few pages.” I can’t hide the pride in my voice. “I wanted to call her immediately and tell her how proud I am, but…”
“But you made a promise.”
“Yeah.” I guide Mom through a turn, grateful for the distraction. “I made a fucking promise. But that won’t stop me from sending flowers. Enough to fill her house.”
“You gave her your ball marker.” It’s not a question. I have no idea how she knows. Maybe, Rory told her, but it doesn’t matter. She knows exactly what that meant.
“You carried it for how long? Fifteen years?”
“Sixteen,” I whisper.
“You really love her, don’t you?”
The question stops me cold. We’re still moving to the music, but my brain has gone completely blank. “I… What?”
“It’s a simple question, Hays. Do you love Leah?”
I think about catching Leah by the bar. The way she was different from any woman I’ve ever met before. How she looked in that mint green dress, and how perfectly she fit against me when I kissed her. Her smile, her laugh, the letter she sent that was smart and sexy and so completely her that I still have it folded in my wallet to this day.
“Yeah,” I whisper. “I think I do. Which sounds insane since I spent less than three hours with her, but I just…felt it. I’ve never been so sure about anything in my life. Other than the fact I’ll win a major one day.”
“It’s not crazy, honey. It happens. You know that.”
“But you and Dad were different. You—”
“Do you think she felt something, too?”
I think back to that night. How Leah searched me out after the proposal. The way she stayed with me even when she had friends there she could have been having fun with. The way she leaned in when we kissed, as if she couldn’t get enough. “I think so.”
Mom’s smile is smug but tempered by the love in her eyes. “Trust your feelings. You don’t need to justify them. When you know, you know.”
“Well, I’ve got eighteen months and—”
“I thought you were practicing patience,” Mom interrupts, shooting me a look.
“I didn’t say I was good at it.”
