Love At First Sight (Love Comes First 2)

I force out a laugh as I shove my tee into the dirt. Jokes on him. I got it in the water and then in some guy’s backyard, not in the parking lot.

Normally, I’d tell a trust fund baby like Gabriel where he can shove his club, but Nolan and I are committed to professionalism today.

“Fuck!” I scream when I smack the ball and it heads right for the trees, disappearing with several clunks. It takes everything I have not to bend my worthless club over my knee.

“Hmmm,” Mr. Brown mumbles with a disapproving look on his face.

“My brother is a very passionate man,” Nolan quickly says, trying to cover for me.

“Passion is for the Lord,” Mr. Brown says with a quick glance at the sky. “In business, a successful man requires patience, calmness, and an unflinching steady hand.”

“That’s right, pops,” Gabriel the kiss ass says. “Watch how it’s done, Eli.”

My jaw is clenched as I watch Gabriel smack a perfect ball down the fairway. It lands several yards behind Nolan’s.

“Nice shot!” Nolan says, clapping his hands.

I guess Gabriel is not the only kiss ass around here.

Mr. Brown hits next and the ball goes… ah, who cares? How much time is left to this shit anyway?

“Calm down,” Nolan says as we get into the cart. “You’re making a spectacle.”

“I’m making a spectacle?” I say, shooting him a look of disbelief. “We’re only here because you made a spectacle, remember? On Mr. Brown’s car with your little—”

“I know what happened,” he snaps. “Just play it cool. Hit the ball onto the grass.”

“I’m trying, Nolan!” God, what is wrong with everyone today?! “Do you think I’m aiming for the fucking forest?!”

He sighs as he drives the cart along the trees. “Go find your ball and take a few deep breaths. This isn’t going well.”

“I know that!” I hiss as I jump out of the moving cart.

He shakes his head as he drives off to his perfectly placed ball.

I’m trying to think of an excuse to leave—maybe a leak in my condo or an emergency lobotomy—as I walk into the forest, kicking rocks and leaves as I search for my stupid ball.

“Oh!” a feminine voice gasps. “You scared me!”

My eyes snap up and then go wide when I see her, standing in the trees looking like a gorgeous Lord of the Rings elf, complete with the glowing aura around her, but minus the pointy ears.

“Could they make these balls any smaller?” she asks as she ducks under a branch. “The last time I spent this much time in the forest was when I was eight and my dad dragged us camping.”

I’m just staring at her in awe as my heart pounds in my chest like someone slamming a sledgehammer into a gong at a quick pace. She’s perfect. I want her.

I need her.

I swallow hard as I look down at her baby blue shorts that are showing off her shapely feminine hips. Her legs go on for days and her blonde hair that’s falling in waves onto her shoulders looks soft enough to drown in.

“Let’s make a deal,” she says, shooting me a radiant smile that takes the strength from my legs. “I’ll keep an eye out for your ball and you keep an eye out for mine.”

I only have eyes for one thing now. Her body. Fuck the golf ball, I’m not taking my eyes off her sweet curves.

“I have a Tit-list,” she says.

“I think that’s pronounced Titleist.” Shit. I’ve only said five words to her and it’s all mansplaining.

“That makes more sense,” she says with a laugh. “What do your balls look like?”

I raise my eyebrow and she starts giggling while a pink blush creeps into her cheeks.

“I meant, what brand is your golf ball?”

She’s waiting for my answer, but I can’t even speak. I have tingles all over as I stare into her blue eyes. This girl has got me stunned.

“You are golfing, aren’t you?” she asks with a playful grin. “Or, do you live in these woods? Treehouse or underground lair? You seem like a treehouse guy to me.”

I open my mouth to say something clever or witty, but only a pathetic gurgle comes out.

“Here’s one!” she says as she bends over, treating me to a gorgeous view, and picks up a ball. “Ah, crap. It’s a Callaway.”

“That’s mine,” I grunt as she shows it to me. “But you can keep it if you want.”

“Carrie!” someone shouts from behind her. “Let’s go!”

“Boss is calling,” she says with a roll of her eyes. “Gotta go. I’ll see you later, Callaway.”

She tosses me the ball and I catch it as she runs off. Out of the forest, out of my life.

A vicious urge to chase after her and throw her over my shoulder is quickly building to a head inside of me when my brother’s voice jerks me back to reality.