Page 26 of Unexpected Shot
No. Absolutely not. That’s laughable. I don’t know what’s in Beau’s dark gaze, but it for sure isn’t that.
“We’re not,” I say, standing up quickly, which throws Chad’s unwanted hand off of me. “You ready to play?”
Beau looks at me, before looking at Chad, then back to me again. “Everything okay?”
“Yes,” I say, groaning. Because I don’t want to talk about…well, anything. I just want to play fucking golf. “I need to run inside. Bathroom. Drinks. You know. That stuff. I’ll meet you back out here in ten.”
“Good work today!” I hear Chad say before I’m out of earshot.
I should turn around and thank him, because it would be the polite thing to do. But I don’t, because I don’t want to lie. Because today wasn’t good work. It was shitty swings that made me feel worse, and then Chad touched me, and now I have to go play golf with Beau Devereaux.
Fuck my life.
I duck my head and make a beeline back to the women’s locker room, thanking the heavens there’s no one in here to see my mini mental breakdown.
How did I end up here? A year and a half ago, I was happy. Truly happy. I was at the top of my game. The leader in money won the year before. I had a beautiful house in Henderson, Nevada, allowing me to play golf every day of the year. I had my friends back home, and I was seeing a man I truly loved.
Then, in the blink of an eye, it was all gone.
“Fuck!” I scream out, and I don’t care if anyone walks in while my head is hanging. If they knew what my life was like now, they’d be randomly swearing too.
Suck it up, buttercup…
I don’t know why Bubba’s favorite words of encouragement choose this moment to ring through my brain. He said it to me daily. It always made me smile.
No, he isn’t dead, so it’s not like a ghost is talking to me, but they are four words I’ll always remember. It’s what he always told me when I was down on myself. And it’s what he’d say to me now if he was here.
I should call him later and ask him to record it for me. Keep it handy so I can play it multiple times a day. Nowthat’smotivation.
The small thought puts a smile on my face, and I push myself up from the bench. I need to get out there. The quicker we start, the quicker today’s round is over.
“Suck it up, buttercup,” I say, fixing my ponytail and visor in the mirror before making my way outside.
I step out of the clubhouse doors, ready to grab my clubs from where I left them at the driving range, when I notice that my club covers—specifically the one that’s a stuffed gopher in honor of my dad’s favorite movie—are already strapped into Beau’s golfcart, which is waiting for me like Cinderella’s carriage.
“You’re late. Get in.”
Prince Charming, Beau Devereaux is not.
“Chill the hell out. Our tee time isn’t for another seven minutes.” I can tell he wants to say something else as I slide into his decked out golf cart, but he doesn’t. “Also, were you timing me?”
“You said ten minutes. I was holding you to your word. You know, because you value honesty so much.”
This is going to be the longest day ever. “Let’s get this over with already.”
Beau just laughs as he sits next to me. “I don’t think a woman has ever said that to me.”
I puke a little in my mouth as Beau hits the gas and makes our way to the first tee box.
Suck it up, buttercup… Just suck it the hell up.
CHAPTER 7
BEAU
Oh shit, it's worse than I thought.
I've seen Shelby at the driving range and in her lessons with Chad, but I didn't pay very much attention to them. For starters, I know if she saw me looking, she'd bite my head off. Because…well…Shelby.
