Picked(25)

I smiled from ear to ear the biggest, goofiest smile a person could muster, thankful for the dark car. An awkward silence took over and Becker turned on the radio. The music was paused on some gossip about Miley Cyrus. I didn’t really listen. I was thinking about his other three wives. Why did he have to have three wives? It sucked. I liked him. A lot. But, there was no way in hell I could share with three other women. I was having a hard enough time not being jealous now, and it was the first time I’d ever met him.

“You sure we’re not going to get into trouble?” Becker asked, breaking the silence.

“No, Justine and I’ve done this since we were sixteen. My grandma used to let me do things my dad didn’t.”

“Oh, why’s that?”

“Why’s what? That’s not really a question.”

“Why weren’t you allowed to do things?”

“My dad was pretty strict, but my grandma did everything with me.”

“Where was your mother?”

“We painted some balls with glow in the dark paint,” I spouted out. Jesus, I sucked at life. I didn’t want to talk about my mother, but I could have led into it a little better than that. Geesh.

Of course, Becker laughed at me. “We don’t have to talk about it. Playing in the dark with you sounds like an outstanding time.”

I laughed that time.

“I knew it. You’re not as shy as you let on. You’ve got a dirty little mind in there, don’t you?” he accused.

Thanking god for the darkness that hid my crimson cheeks, I snickered. I wasn’t going there. Not yet anyway. I couldn’t. It would come out stupid, I was sure of it.

I unlocked the dark little shack and we entered from the back. I led Becker to the front where I knew the painted balls were. We kept them in the storeroom right under a light bulb. We learned pretty quickly that glow in the dark doesn’t really glow unless it has light to charge.

After retrieving our clubs, we ventured out to the shadowy course. Becker guided me through the gate by placing his hand on the small of my back. I knew right that second I needed to stay away from Becker Cole.

The course turned out to be a lot of help, either that or I was just more comfortable around Becker. I was using the darkness to charge my self-consciousness. It worked. We had the best time ever. I laughed so much, flirted like I’d never done before, and touched, or leaned into him every chance I got.

“I’m going to look up the rules on putt-putt golf when I get home. I don’t think you’re allowed to hit the ball nine times.”

“You are,” I said in the dark, hitting my neon yellow ball and sinking it on the tenth try.

Becker hit his twice, laughing. He was way better at this than I was, and we could barely see the holes.

“I’m going to build one of these back at the estate. I like this,” he decided.

“For real?” I asked the silly question. It was just hard to fathom someone with enough money to just decide at the spur of the moment to build a putt-putt golf course.

“Yeah, I think so,” he said, following me to the last hole.

Again, I didn’t want it to be over. I wanted to play again, and again, and again, until the wee hours of the morning.

“What do you normally do on Sunday?” he asked when I didn’t reply.

“Oh, not much. You probably go to church, huh?”

“What do you mean by that?”

SHIT! You stupid idiot, Cass. Now he was going to know that I was on to him. From what I had read about the polygamy community, most of the colonies were due to a religious belief. “You just seem like the religious type,” I countered. “Come on,” I coaxed trying to get away from the conversation more so than the thirteenth hole.

Pulling to the curb of my house, Becker shut off his car. Crap. Did he expect to be asked in? I couldn’t let him in. I was spending my entire day cleaning on Sunday. That’s what I was doing.

“Thank you for insisting we play glow in the dark putt-putt golf. That was way more fun than coffee and pie.”

“You’re welcome. Thank you for dinner, it was great, and I love your brother.”

“More than me?”

I laughed. I wasn’t going there. Nope, not touching that one. “I’ll see you later,” I said, reaching for the door handle.

“Hey,” Becker said, stopping me. “How about a phone number? Can I call you?”

“Do you really not already have it?” I questioned, sure that he did. He hacked my computer. He had it.

Letting me know what I already knew, Becker smiled. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” Leaning in, he kissed the side of my mouth. One sweet, soft kiss