The Wright Boss(80)

He put his hand on hers, as if to push her away, but he didn't. She sidled up closer to him when he did nothing.

And I'd seen enough.

I felt sick to my stomach. I snatched up the water bottles as soon as the bartender handed them to me, and I hurried away. I needed to get Landon out of here. As if it wasn't bad enough that Miranda had been refusing to sign the divorce paperwork, now, she was trying to find a replacement for Landon, so she could go from one golfer to another.

I shuddered and moved to Landon's side. The interview had just concluded. He gave me a confused look when I appeared frantic.

But then I said the magic words to get him to move, "Miranda is here." 





Thirty-One



Landon


"What the fuck is she doing here?" I asked as I herded Heidi out of the clubhouse.

I probably shouldn't be walking the course. Okay, I definitely shouldn't be. But I couldn't stay in the clubhouse and run into Miranda. That would be suicide.

"Do you really want to know?" she asked.

"Yes."

We took the stairs and were outside when Heidi finally sighed and told me, "She's looking for a new you."

"A new … me?"

"Yeah. She was talking to that guy Ben that you know. Telling him that they've wanted each other forever and that he could now have her."

I gave her a disgusted face. "God, she gives the term nineteenth hole a whole new meaning."

Heidi snorted. "Nineteenth hole? God, you golfers are really gross!"

"You don't even want to know. Double bogey and water holes have double meanings, too. You can probably guess."

"Oh … wow. I probably can."

I laughed at her adorable face as I had her thinking about anal play and blow jobs. "You know, if you're interested … "

"Concentrate, you," she said, playfully smacking my arm.

"Right. Escaping my crazy ex is the number one priority. Dirty bedroom play can be considered at a later time."

"Oh, you are only going to be thinking about that now, aren't you?"

I arched an eyebrow in her direction and wrapped an arm around her waist. Then, I dropped it lower and grabbed her ass. "Can you blame me?"

She leaned over and kissed me in a way that brooked no argument. She did not blame me.

"Maybe later," she whispered into my ear.

Hell yes.

Now that I was out of the clubhouse, away from Miranda, and out on the course, I felt more like myself. There were plenty of people mingling around who could recognize me, but with my hat pulled low over my eyes and without a club in my hands, most people just walked by. It was only the occasional wide-eyed PGA girl or devoted middle-aged man. Both were harmless in small quantities.

Heidi took it all in stride. I was so used to this environment that I hadn't even thought to prepare her for what was to come. Of course, I was just the guy she'd known in high school when we were in Lubbock. I was a different person out here, but I was enjoying her perception of it. Everything was a new adventure, and she wanted answers to all of her questions-how many tournaments I played, how much you could win, the dynamics of the game, who everyone was, what the importance of different clubs were, and on and on.

I enjoyed telling her all about my first love-golf.

The more time I spent with Heidi, the more I realized she was my second.



By the time we returned to our hotel room later that day, we were both exhausted and starving, and Heidi was a little sunburned.

"Fucking sun! I put on sunscreen," she groaned.

"You are kind of pale."

"Kind of pale?" she asked, sticking her arm out for me to investigate. "I was a ghost, and now, I'm a lobster."

"You're just a little pink. We'll get you a hat for tomorrow and some better sunscreen."

She sighed. "I am going to look ridiculous in my dress tonight. Nothing like tan lines in a strapless dress."

"Why don't we skip it?" I suggested.

"What? That was the whole reason we came-because you got the tickets from Ryan."

"That gave me the push to bring you, but really, I just wanted to spend some time with you and show you a golf tournament. One day, I want to get back to this. I hope I can get back to this. And, when I do, I wanted you to see what it was like."



       
         
       
        

"Golf groupies always throwing themselves at you?" she asked.

"That is an unfortunate part of the job, but most of the golfers on the Tour are deeply devoted to their girlfriends or wives and would never deal with that nonsense. And that's all it is-nonsense."