Love At First Sight (Love Comes First 2)

Whatever.

“And they normally take about four hours.”

Four hours?!? I nearly throw up.

“But tournaments are often longer than that,” he adds. “So, maybe around five?”

My stomach lurches as I stare at the ducks on the pond. Even they have a better place to be, since they take off as we approach.

“So, I’ll be home around six?” I ask hopefully as he parks the cart by the water. I really don’t like to leave Chester home for very long. The poor pup was sick this morning.

“Six AM is more like it,” he says as we walk around to our bags in the back. “We’re staying for the dinner tonight. You’re my date.”

That granola bar I ate in the car is coming back up as I watch him pull out a club.

“You’re going to want to use a three iron for this shot,” he says as he walks over to the ball.

I don’t even know what a three iron is and I really don’t care. I just want to go home and take care of my sick dog. I don’t need this.

My jaw is clenched and my pulse is speeding angrily when I see the corner of his iPhone sticking out of his bag. I grab it and head to his photos as he’s busy lining up his shot, rambling on about the yardage to the hole and the direction of the wind.

The first picture that pops up is of my bent over ass in my baby blue shorts.

As soon as he swings his club, I toss his phone into the middle of the pond. It disappears with a plunk.

That’s what you get, perv.

“What was that?” he asks as he turns around to look at the pond.

“A duck, I think. That was a great shot, sir!”

I’m bouncing around with a big excited smile on my face as he turns back to his ball, looking proud. “It was pretty good.

“Your turn,” he says as I squeeze my club, hating every second of this. At least, it’s a nice day, but that also means my tan is going to look horrendous tomorrow.

I hit the ball as best I can, which is pretty embarrassing considering where it goes. I’m wondering if I’m the only golfer in the world who can hit horizontal as Mr. Miller gets back into the cart.

“I’ll catch up,” I say with a wave. “I’m going to go find my ball.”

He shrugs and then drives over to where Barney and Raymond are hitting.

I should just leave. The creep took a picture of my ass!

But I know that I can’t. It took me four months to find this job that I’m overqualified for, and I desperately need the money. My one-year-old French Bulldog has cancer and the vet bills are piling up. I start tearing up just thinking about it.

I pull out my phone and look at a couple of adorable pictures of him before texting my neighbor to ask her to let him out. We help each other out sometimes. Jody is a single mother who works full time, so she’s always needing me to watch a kid here and there for a few minutes while she scrambles around. I don’t mind. I like her kids and it lets me ask her for help once in a while without feeling guilty.

No problem, she texts back. Have fun and try to meet a boyfriend!

I sigh as I shove my phone back into my pocket. A boyfriend here? Yeah, right. I’ve never been in a relationship and I don’t think I’m about to start now. Especially surrounded by these three creeps. If anything, they’re going to swear me off men forever.

I’m walking through the trees, kicking leaves and branches as I look for my ball. It’s right there, but I prolong this moment a little. I glance over at my boss and drop my head back with a groan when I see the three of them lighting the biggest cigars I’ve ever seen. Just when I think this can’t get any worse, they assault another one of my senses. I’m going to have to smell that thick cigar smoke all day instead of the freshly cut grass and pine trees.

I wish I could go home. I wish someone would save me from this horrible day.

I glance over at the foursome starting on the first hole and my breath catches when I see a tall muscular man practicing his swing. He’s already got a strike against him since he likes golf, but those broad shoulders and thick arms are just nice enough to let me look past it.

He’s with two other guys his age, which looks to be about late twenties/early thirties, and an older man.

I sneak behind a tree and gawk at him as he says something that I can’t hear. It sends shivers down my spine with the way his sharp jaw moves. Now, that’s a foursome I wouldn’t mind being in. Or, perhaps a twosome would be better. Just me and him.