A Date to Play Fore

by Dover, L. P.

  I lean back against the seat. “It’s not exactly that I wanted to,” I laugh. “I’m here for our annual family reunion. Every year we go somewhere different. Bryan and I always get coerced into going.”

  Greyson laughs and hits his ball perfectly. “Nice. My family doesn’t do anything like that.” He gets back in the cart and drives me to my tee box. “The Jennings’ aren’t exactly close. Don’t get me wrong, I see my parents regularly, but I haven’t seen my aunts, uncles, or cousins in years. We’re all scattered across the U.S.”

  “So are both sides of my family,” I say, “but my mother’s side is adamant on doing these reunions. I only see my father’s side on Christmas.” Since we’re on a par three hole, I grab my nine iron out of my bag.

  “What are you going to tell your brother if he finds out you’re with me today?”

  I walk up to my tee box and sigh. “Well, I’m hoping he doesn’t. At least, for your sake. He’ll hate you even more than he does now. Especially after that whole stunt you pulled about going to the press and saying he faked his wrist injury because he was scared of losing to you.”

  I glance at him over my shoulder and he shrugs. “It was a joke. A funny one at the time, but obviously, it wasn’t a good idea. I’m sorry about that.”

  “I’m not the one you should apologize to.”

  He groans. “Your brother would rather beat the shit out of me instead of listen to an apology. It’s too late for that.”

  It’s my time to shrug. “Never know unless you try.”

  I line up at the ball and swing my club. The ball lands perfectly on the green.

  “Good shot. You might gain a stroke on me with this one.”

  We ride up to the green and get out with our putters. I’m closer to the hole than he is so he has to putt first. He gets into position and taps the ball. It goes straight toward the hole and skims the rim as it passes. Inside, I’m screaming with joy, but I keep my composure. Taking a deep breath, I grip my putter and let my breath out slow. I tap the ball gently, but with enough force to get to the hole, and it goes right in.

  Greyson grins and taps his into the hole. “Nice. You’re only one stroke behind me now.”

  “With eight more holes to go. I can totally catch up.”

  He gets our balls out of the hole and tosses mine to me. “Why didn’t you want to be a professional golfer? You could seriously kick ass in the LPGA.”

  I slide my putter back into my bag. “There was a time when I considered it, but it’s not what I wanted to do with my life. I like being a nurse and being at the hospital. It’s where I belong.”

  “Was your dad okay with that? I’m sure he would’ve loved to see you follow in his footsteps.”

  I shrug. “Yes, he would’ve, but he knows I’m happy. Both he and my mother have supported me in everything I’ve done.” We get in the cart and head to the next hole. “What about you? Do your parents support your golfing?”

  He laughs. “They do more than anything.” Then his expression goes solemn. “I didn’t grow up with much but when they saw I had an affinity for golf, they nurtured it. They worked extra hours so they could afford golf lessons. I got a scholarship and played my way through college. Then, when I got out, I started to play professionally. I made sure to pay them back for everything they’ve done for me. That’s why I bought them a retirement cabin in the North Carolina mountains. It’s where they always wanted to be.”

  Out of all the things I knew about Greyson, I had no clue he grew up with little money. I’m sure it’s not something he tells a lot of people. “That’s really sweet, Greyson. I know they have to be proud of you.”

  He nods. “I hope so.”

  The more time I spend with him, the more I realize I’ve been wrong about him. He may be arrogant at times, but there’s a deeper side to him, one I actually like.

  “You ready for the next hole?” he asks.

  He looks over at me and I smile. “Let’s go.”

  The day goes by quickly and I trail behind him with that one stroke. Even on the eighteenth hole when I have a chance to catch up, I totally bomb it with a bogey, leaving me two strokes behind in the end. In a way, I’m glad I lost. I’m curious to see what all Greyson has planned for our date. Once we’re off the course and Greyson turns in our clubs to the pro shop, he walks with me back into the resort. It’s still early so I know none of my family is back from their day trips.

  “Looks like I won,” Greyson says, bumping me playfully with his shoulder.

  I bump him back and it feels good to flirt. “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He presses the elevator button and we both get in when the doors open. I hit the twelfth-floor button and the elevator takes us up. When we get to my floor, he follows me down to my room. “So what exactly are our date plans for tomorrow?”

  His lips spread wide as we stop at my door. “You won’t have any trouble telling your family you won’t be around?”

  I wave him off. “They’ll be fine.”

  His brows lift. “Even if you’re gone all day?”

  “Geez, what are we going to do?”

  He chuckles and it makes me tremble. I love the sound of his laugh. He steps closer and I can feel the warmth of his body against mine. My traitorous heart wants him to kiss me. His lips move close to mine, and instead of kissing me, he smiles. “I’ll be here at your room at eight-thirty in the morning. Make sure you pack a change of clothes in case something happens. The jet is ready to go.”

  The breath hitches in my lungs and I gasp, but he turns and walks away with that mischievous grin of his. “The jet? Where the hell are we going?”

  He stops at the elevator and smirks at me. “Vegas, baby. It’s going to be a fun day.”

  Mouth gaping, I watch him disappear inside the elevator. I lean against my door and blow out a breath. Vegas. I can only imagine what kind of trouble we’ll be getting in to.

  5

  Greyson

  The next time I win a bet against the woman of my dreams someone needs to remind me that an eight thirty leave time is the most ridiculous thing ever. Of course, I slept like shit, in the sense that I couldn’t get Leah out of my mind. All night, I stared at the ceiling and imagined her next to me, on me, under me, and any other direction my dirty mind could conjure. What I couldn’t do is picture her snuggled next to me or sitting across from the table eating dinner. My thoughts were nothing but sex and it’s all her fault. If she hadn’t told me she wasn’t going to sleep with me, my mind wouldn’t try to focus on how to get her into my bed or what she would look like there.

  Still, I’m on time. I knock once and the door flies open. The beauty that is Leah Nelson stands before me in a pair of khaki shorts and a Nike golf shirt. There’s a bag slung over her shoulder and a pink blanket draped over her other arm.

  I point at the blanket. “What’s the blanket for?”

  “I always travel with one.”

  “For security?”

  Her eyes narrow and I think she’s about to hit me so I start to flinch, but she doesn’t. “I get cold on planes. I didn’t want to wear pants or jeans to Vegas, so I figured this is the best alternative.”

  I nod slowly. “Got it. Are you ready?”

  “I am.” Leah steps out of her room and lets the door shut behind her. I motion toward the stairs and she looks at me like I have two heads.

  “Less people to run into than in the elevator.”

  “We took it yesterday,” she points out. I groan, let my head flop, and take a staggering step to follow her. Every now and again I’m going to have to let her have these small victories. She’ll think she’s getting the best of me, when really, I get to walk behind her and admire her beautiful ass. As we step into the elevator she says, “You look tired.”

  Great, did I forget to brush my hair? I check my appearance in the mirrored paneling. When someone says you look ‘tired’ it’s a nice way of saying you look like shit.

  “Um . . . Yeah, I guess I am. I didn’t sleep very well l
ast night.”

  Leah glances up at me and smiles. “Okay. Just wondering if I’m going to be able to read my book on the flight or if we’re going to talk the whole time.”

  Damn her mouth is sassy and it makes me want to kiss her to shut her up. “I’m sure there will be time for you to read your romance book,” I say.

  She scoffs. “What makes you think it’s romance?”

  “Dunno.” I shrug. “Most women I know read those books and then they expect us men to act like those fictional characters, which if you’re asking me is the most ludicrous thing I’ve ever heard.”

  Leah’s mouth drops open. “That’s because the men in my books are perfect, unlike you.” She winks and the elevator doors open, interrupting what I’d hoped to be a witty reply to come out of my mouth. Unfortunately, she got me. I’m not perfect. Far from it.

  My car is waiting in the valet space when we walk out the doors. I point and the valet rushes over to open the door for Leah. He hands me my keys and tells us to have a nice day. If he only knew. Once we’re on the road, the airfield isn’t that far, which is nice. The flight to Las Vegas is four hours with the time zone change working in our favor.

  “What kind of jet do you have?”

  “One that flies me where I need to go,” I tease.

  She smacks me on the arm. “Wow, you’re just full of wit this morning.”

  “You make it too easy.”

  I smile at her and she pats my leg. “It’s okay. I’ll just read my book instead of talking to you if that’s how you’re going to be.”

  I love that she makes me laugh. “What are you reading anyway?”

  Her eyes twinkle. “It’s a romance.” I want to lean over and kiss her, but know that if I do, she’ll jump out of my car and our date will be over. Instead, I just shake my head and smile.

  “If you want me to act like the heroes in your book, you’ll have to tell me how.”

  “Why so you do the opposite?”

  “No.” I laugh and pick up her hand. I bring it to my lips and press them to her skin. “So, I can make sure you’re getting your dream date. I may not be your dream guy, but we can pretend for the day.” As much as I don’t want to, I set her hand back down and focus on the turns I have to take to get to the hanger where my plane is renting space.

  I help Leah out of the car, and we walk to the jet. Introductions are made and while we’re getting comfortable, the attendant brings us cups of coffee.

  “Wow, full service, huh?”

  “Only the best for our date.” I wink, set my mug down and stretch my legs out. Within a few minutes, we’re airborne. Leah snuggles into her chair and wraps her blanket around her legs. She pulls her book out and starts reading.

  “Read to me.”

  “What?” she asks, staring wide-eyed at me.

  I nod at her book. “Read to me.”

  Leah holds eye contact for a bit before she turns back to the book. She starts reading, her voice smooth, calming, and seductive. When she comes to the juicy parts, her breathing hitches. Normally, I’d say something sarcastic, but not this time. I don’t care what she’s reading, I could easily listen to her all day.

  * * *

  One of the things I love about Las Vegas is how close the airport is to the Strip. It makes it nice and easy to get to the hotel. The car share drops us off at the Bellagio. Again, I help Leah out of the car. She doesn’t let go of my hand and I try not to call attention to it. We walk into the hotel and toward the elevators.

  “What are we doing here?”

  “We have a room.”

  She jerks to a stop. “Hold up, Greyson. We’re spending the night and sharing a room? I told you I’m not sleeping with you.”

  I turn toward her and take small steps until she’s backed against the wall. I lean in really close and say, “I thought you’d like a place to freshen up before we get food, play a couple card games, visit the strip and have dinner. We are set to take a red-eye flight back tonight. That is,” I pause and play with a piece of her hair. Before I can finish, the doors open and the moment is lost. We ride up to our floor and head down the hall. When I reach the door, Leah is right there.

  “I overreacted. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” I tell her. “I haven’t forgotten your terms.” Placing my phone against the lock, it clicks. I open the door and show Leah into the very suite I do hope to wine and dine her back into later so we can be naked and watch the fountains perform.

  “This suite is gorgeous. The view.”

  Leah is standing at the window. I go to her and stand so our shoulders are touching. “The view at night is the best. It’s loud, but worth it.”

  “I can’t wait.”

  I look down at her and smile. “If you want to shower or whatever, you can. I figured we’d get some lunch and then just walk around, check out the different hotels. We have dinner reservations at the Eiffel Tower Restaurant.”

  She gasps. “I didn’t bring anything to wear for dinner, Greyson. You said a change of clothes—”

  I cut her off by pointing toward the closet. “There might be something hanging in there for you.”

  Leah walks over to the closet and pulls the doors open. By the squeal she lets out, I’m assuming she likes the dress hanging there. “Greyson, this is too much.”

  “Before you go thinking I spent thousands, it’s a rental.”

  She reaches for the garment and then looks at me. “How did you know my size?’

  “My business manager is very good at her job.”

  “I’ll say.” I heard her mutter before she closed the doors. “I’m going to freshen up.” Leah points to the bathroom and then scrambles to get her bag. She fumbles with her things which makes me laugh. As soon as the door shuts, I collapse on the bed and close my eyes. If I get a twenty-minute nap, I’ll be happy.

  My eyes barely close when Leah comes out of the bathroom announcing that she’s ready to go. I spring up off the bed, straighten my shirt, do the customary adjustment to my shorts, and tell her I’ll be back in a second as I step by her and go into the bathroom. Turning the faucet on cold, I splash a handful of water onto my face. Before I can open the door, my nerves hit me like a ton of bricks.

  “Fuck,” I say aloud. I’m about to take the girl of my dreams on a date. This could go one of two ways—totally in my favor—or it could backfire. I should’ve taken her to Disneyland or something.

  Why in the hell did I choose Vegas?

  I can’t delay the inevitable. Opening the door, I walk back into the main room and find Leah looking out the window. I take her all in, every luscious curve, the way her hair cascades over her shoulders, and the perfect pout her lips make. She turns, catching me in the act of staring. Her brows lift as she places her hands on her hips. “Got your eyes full?”

  I chuckle. “Hey, I like what I see.” Leah blushes and I love that I can do that to her. “Are you ready to experience Las Vegas?”

  “I am,” she says as she comes toward me.

  I hold the door open and remind her which way to go toward the elevator. She laughs and asks if I want to take the stairs. She’s such a smart ass and I love it. When we get to the main floor, she veers off into the casino and takes a seat at the blackjack table.

  “Okay, so I guess we’re playing.”

  She nods. “We are.”

  I toss a couple hundred down onto the table and the dealer hands over my chips. I slide them in front of Leah and take the seat next to her. She wins the first couple of hands, loses a couple, but then seems to be doing well. When the server comes by, I order us a couple of drinks, and then a couple more, and a few more after that.

  “Want to try another game?” I ask her, although it might be stupid for her to leave, she’s more than tripled her money.

  “Yeah, sure.” Leah stands and wobbles right into me. “Oops,” she says with a hiccup and laugh.

  “Leah Nelson, are you drunk?”

  She nods. “I think so. Holy shi
t. How many did I have?”

  “Six, but they’re not that strong. They water them down because they’re free.”

  “Apparently not enough.”

  “Are you okay or do you want to go back to the room?”

  Leah rights herself, squares her shoulders and looks me dead in the eyes. “I’m good to go.”

  “Perfect.”

  She takes her winnings and moves to another table, this time poker, which I have no idea how to play. When I come to Vegas, I do so to unwind and hide from people. It’s rare anyone would recognize me in the crowds and when I have a baseball cap on, people never look twice. When I’m here, I’m at the slots because they’re easy.

  Leah though, I’m starting to think is a card shark. She’s bowing out when she doesn’t have a good hand and betting high when she does. I left her once to go to the bathroom and when I came back, she had zero expression on her face. She’s unreadable, which I hear makes for a deadly poker player.

  I stand behind her chair, with my hands on the back rest. She may not be mine . . . yet, but I’ll be damned if someone is going to try and win her over. In between hands, she leans back, and I use this opportunity to get closer. I ask her what she wants, needs and I take the roll as her errand boy to make sure she’s happy. She’s kicking ass in Vegas and I want her to enjoy herself.

  When she finally quits, she’s turned the two hundred into a couple thousand and change. I show her where to cash out and she tries to give me all her earnings. My hand folds over the top of hers and I shake my head.

  “You won this. It’s yours.”

  “It’s like I almost beat you at a round of golf.” Leah tucks her winnings into her purse.

  She’s right. Good thing I won when it really mattered.

  I take her hand and lead her out of the hotel. We walk down the long pathway until we’re on the strip and heading toward the Venetian to take a gondola ride.

  “I can’t believe I’ve never been here before,” she says, gazing up at the different hotels.

  “It’s fun but can be draining. There’s the always on mentality so it’s hard to unwind sometimes.”