Crazy Hot (The Au Pairs 4)

David had only been back for a week when Mara had run into Tinker and Ryan and they'd invited her to a late-night bonfire. When Mara demurred, saying her boyfriend was in town, Tinker suggested they all double-date sometime. Mara had accepted the invitation, not sure if it would actually happen, but here the four of them were. She was pretty sure she owed the evening to Tinker's enthusiasm rather than Ryan's--he'd seemed a little

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stunned to find out she even had a boyfriend, which she had to say was strangely gratifying--but since they'd been having a good time tonight, she was genuinely glad it had all worked out. They had met at Lunch for dinner, ordering mouthwatering lobster rolls and platters of assorted fried fish, the guys swigging back longnecks and talking sports while the girls gossiped about people they knew.

They were going to call it a night when David suggested a round of mini-golf in Riverhead, on the North Fork. It was a nice respite from the high-flying Hamptons scene, as mini-golf was way too corny and suburban for the Hamptons elite. True to form, the course was populated by suburban types in wash-and-dry cotton rather than dry-clean-only denim.

"Isn't this fun?" Mara giggled, a little tipsy as they moved on to the next hole. She and David were beating Ryan and Tinker-- a miracle, considering the other two were athletes. She'd been teasing them about it mercilessly.

Ryan bent down and set his ball, which was fiery red, on the slotted black rubber pad that served as a tee. As he set up his shot, practice-swinging his club back and forth in the air, he accidentally nudged the ball with his club and it rolled off the tee and onto the forest green fake grass.

"That counts as one stroke," David called.

"Oh, man." Ryan laughed at his own clumsiness. "I think I had one too many back there." They had left more than a half-dozen empty beer bottles on the rickety wooden tables back at

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the restaurant and had decided to cab it to Riverhead. "Can I get a do-over?" he asked.

"No way, dude, those are the rules." David was the one keeping score, and he'd already reached into his pocket for the stubby golf course pencil to add a stroke to Ryan's score.

"Rules are made to be fixed," Ryan grumbled good-naturedly as he set the ball back down on the tee for take number two.

"What's that?" Tinker asked, looking up from her beer. She was wearing a pristine white knee-length Lacoste dress, a wide grosgrain headband in her thick blond hair, and a string of real pearls around her tanned neck, the epitome of polished patrician chic. Mara had been briefly intimidated when they first met up. Tinker looked like one of those country club queen bees for a moment--but as soon as she'd greeted Mara, rather sweetly asking about the kids and their "enlightenment," the feeling had quickly passed. Besides, Mara felt confident about her own, Eliza Thompson-approved outfit: a cotton

voile bib-front Chloe top and tailored pinstripe Bermudas that Eliza had pronounced the "look" of the season.

"Oh, nothing," Ryan mumbled as he set up his shot again.

"You know, rules are made to be fixed. The early bird releases the worm. Idle hands are the devil's workplace." Mara grinned at Ryan from across the course. Back when they were dating, the two of them would try to come up with as many subverted cliches as possible.

Ryan looked up from his club and grinned back. "The heart despises what it despises."

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"Ah, but I don't think 'despises' is the opposite of 'wants,' really," Mara pointed out, leaning jauntily on her club. "Good try, though. Half a point for effort!"

"I don't get it." Tinker frowned, taking a long slug from her plastic cup of Bud Light, the only drink the golf course offered. The red Solo cup looked hilariously mismatched with her chic outfit.

David looked back and forth between Ryan and Mara, shaking his head with a sigh. He yawned.

"We keeping you up, man?" Ryan teased. He tapped the golf ball lightly but didn't hit it.

"No, but if you don't take the shot anytime soon, I may just fall asleep standing up," David ribbed him back, holding his club over his head as he stretched his arms.

Mara looked back and forth between them. Boys could be so competitive. Though she couldn't help but feel that David's jabs were less good-natured than Ryan's had been. "David, I forgot to tell you---Ryan hates to lose," Mara sang out teasingly, trying to infuse some estrogen into their testosterone standoff. "And he hates even more to be distracted," she added, jutting her hip out the slightest bit as she leaned against her club, a gesture she knew he used to always find seductive. She couldn't help herself.

Ryan, as if on cue, flubbed the shot and then cursed impressively. He jogged after the ball and hit it vigorously once it had come to a stop, finally whacking it through the big bad wolf's head. "Three strokes," he said definitively to David.

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Tinker came to stand beside David, looking over his shoulder at the scorecard. "Don't worry, babe," she called to Ryan. "We're only losing by, um--eleven. I suck! I'm so sorry."

"You guys do suck," Mara taunted, sticking out her tongue at Ryan. It was so refreshing to be actually good at a sport--all those years spent at Chuck E. Cheese were finally paying off. Ryan and Tinker, who'd grown up with parents who didn't believe in cheap amusement parks, were completely hopeless at mini-golf.

They moved onto the next hole, which featured a series of blue ramps painted to look like rivers. David set up his shot and then hit the ball briskly. It hit the side of the ramp with a clang and then went spiraling off the course, where it bounced out onto the concrete and started rolling away.

"Out of bounds, automatic forfeit of the course," Ryan cried gleefully, waving his cup of beer in the air.