Page 47 of Chasing the Sun

Must be nice not to worry about money, she thought. One of the perks of being a dentist, I guess.

Dustin had set her rental clubs on a rolling cart, and after Bryce paid, she followed him outside, rolling the clubs behind her. They took a path a short distance to the driving range, and he led her to a station farthest away from the other golfers.

“Is this so I won’t accidentally hit someone?” she teased.

“Better to be safe than sorry,” he said without a hint of a smile.

The phrase seemed in keeping with his philosophy on life. If only he would loosen up a little…

“Okay,” he said, pulling a club out of his bag. “I’ll go first so you can see how it’s done. Stand back.”

She took a few steps back and studied the process he went through, feeling like a student who would be tested on this later.

“First, you tee up the ball.”

“How do you know how high?”

“You’ll get a feel for it. For now, you’ll want to tee it up high so you can get under the ball.”

I’d like to get under you. “Okay.”

“Then you grip the club like so.”

She studied his hands as they wrapped around the club and he threaded his fingers together. He had great hands, and she’d bet his patients thought the same, not to mention the women he’d been with.

“Notice my stance,” he said, glancing back at her. “My knees are slightly bent, but my back is straight. You don’t want to hunch over the ball.”

“Knees bent, back straight, butt out. Got it.”

His eyebrows shot up, and she realized what she’d just said. “Oops!”

“Yeah. I don’t think I mentioned that last part,” he said, his lips curling up in a reluctant smile.

“Sorry. Continue.”

“Now. Here’s the really important part—the swing.”

I’d rather talk about your butt. “I’m listening.”

“You want to pull the club back nice and smooth while keeping your eyes on the ball the entire time.”

So no more looking at your butt. “Got it.”

With that, he brought the club back and then swung it forward in a perfectly fluid motion, hitting the golf ball with a loud whack and sending it sailing into the air.

She looked up and followed the ball’s path until it landed with a soft plop not too far from the flag that flapped in the distance. “Nice,” she said.

“Thanks. Are you ready to give it a try?”

She inhaled deeply. “I guess so.”

“Step on up,” he said as he lifted a club out of her bag and handed it to her. “Try this one first. It’s a three wood.”

“Huh?”

He chuckled. “This one is shorter than the driver, and you might have better control with it. I’ll explain the other club sizes as we go.”

Control. There was another word she’d associate with him, though not necessarily in a bad way.