Page 106 of Unexpected Shot
Have you not been sleeping well? I think you’re delirious.
Maybe I am. I did marry your brother, so clearly I’m not rightin the head.
I’m going to stay away from that one…
“I was wondering when I’d get this view.”
I look up to see Beau walking into his living room, looking casual and comfortable in a pair of jeans and a fitted Henley. It’s March in Nashville, so the spring weather is definitely here during the day, but it’s still getting cool at night.
“What view is that?”
“The one of you laying around the house, a book in your hand.”
I brace myself for whatever dig he’s about to send me. “Am I not allowed to read?”
“Why would you say that?” Beau asks as he sits on the other end of the couch I’m laying on. “I just wondered what the first book I’d catch you reading is?”
I flip it over to him, showing the cover. “I’m glad you asked. It’s about a trio of women who discover they’re all married to the same man and are now plotting how to murder him and get away with it.”
“Oh, so you’re taking notes,” he teases, grabbing the remote from the coffee table and flipping on his ridiculously large television. “What should I be aware of?”
“That depends,” I say, sliding a bookmark in to protect my spot. Because dogears are for maniacs. “Do you have two other wives I’m not aware of?”
“I don’t even have two exes for you to be aware of,” he jokes as he flips the channel to ESPN.
“What about Courtney?”
“Was nothing more than a hookup in Vegas,” he says. “And I promise, nothing happened this time.”
He didn’t have to tell me that, but I appreciate the words.
“At least she stays in Vegas,” Beau adds. “Unlike my wife’s ex, who I have to see next week.”
My stomach sinks at the thought of Beau seeing Michael. “I haven’t been online. Has he written more?”
“Not much,” Beau says with a shrug. “He’s done a few follow-ups, but none of it is new information. He’s just regurgitating a bunch of shit to try and get clicks. But Kat and Grayson were right. The fact that we’ve issued a statement asking others to respect our privacy as we navigate this exciting time together, or whatever the hell it said, is working. Things are dying down.”
“That’s until we head back out next week,” I say. “We’re both going to be playing. We’re going to get the questions.”
“And we’re going to answer them just like Kat and Grayson have coached us,” Beau says. “If Michael asks anything inappropriate, I’m going to use my powers for good and get him blacklisted from every tournament in the country.”
I raise a questioning eyebrow. “You think you can do that?”
Beau sends me a wink. “Does he have a one-million-plus viewing audience and the capabilities of making a video go viral in a nano second? It would take one segment of aBack Nineepisode to bury him if I wanted to.”
While that does sound tempting, it also feels a little over the top. “Let’s just wait and see how he is next week. Then we’ll plot his demise.”
“Wise words from the ex-lover,” he says.
“Ugh, don’t remind me,” I say as highlights from today’s men’s golf tournament fill the screen. Beau wasn’t planning on playing this week even before Las Vegas, and same for me on the women’s tour, but that isn’t stopping the reporters from asking golfers their thoughts on our marriage.
“Honestly, I was shocked to hear it.” That comes from Libby Prescott, the woman who I’d call my closest friend on tour, which isn’t saying much considering I’m also known as a lone wolf. “Shelby never really talked about her dating life, but ifshe’s happy, then so am I. I just need to know where she’s registered.”
“That was a nice little joke she threw in there,” Beau says as one of the male golfers comes on and is asked the same question. “We should get a registry. All these rich assholes we play with could afford to give us a present.”
“I’ll make sure to add the coffee maker,” I say as another male golfer begins to talk. Everyone repeats the basic PR fluff statements—that they’re happy for us. That they didn’t know we were dating, but as long as we’re happy, so are they.
But then the television camera flashes to a person who makes both me and Beau sit straight up in our seats.
