Tee It Up: A Wilder Brothers Romance

by Megan Hetherington

  The smell of the pages and the effects of the cocoa soon have me drifting off into a satisfied sleep and when I wake a shaft of daylight dazzles my eyes.

  I reach across the bedside table to silence the bird chirping out from my phone and see Johnson has sent me a text. Just one word.

  Johnson: Sorry.

  That’s strange. I sit up and rub my eyes and then open the string of texts to see if there is anything preceding it I’ve missed, but there’s nothing. Just that one word.

  I’ve not got time to dwell on it, I need to get into the office and I busy myself with my morning routine. When I’m soaping myself in the shower a thought crosses my mind about the hotel bar Johnson was in and I rinse the conditioner mask from my hair, switch off the shower and wrap a towel around my body before going into the bedroom to check my phone.

  I tap in his name into the search bar and several results pop up. The latest one is about the Texas tournament he is playing in but it looks too official, so I click on the next one down which is a news feed from the local Texas paper. The image is of Johnson and AJ, sat on bar stools, with that woman from the function we went to on Saturday night stood between his legs. His hands on her thighs. The headline reads, “Will Wilder throw away his latest chance?”

  I launch the phone onto the bed.

  What a sucker you are Meredith.

  I knew he was an arrogant, privileged ignoramus. It’s obvious he merely wanted a shag with his shrink before going back to his usual booty call.

  I mean why else would she be in Texas? With him?

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Johnson

  Well, fuck me. And she certainly did. Who’d have thought Meredith was the wild and dominant type in the bedroom and… I’d like it.

  I’m supposed to be the alpha male, the head of the family, the one that takes a woman and owns her, but I’ve finally met my match in the bedroom. Even walking into her this morning wearing an apron didn’t emasculate me.

  I lick my lips at the thought of taking this relationship up a notch or two and seeing what she has in store for me.

  I’d not thought about her history or what she might do to me, as ever, I only dreamed about taking her and fucking her senseless. There’s an added dimension to this now, and it makes me feel on top of the world. My confidence is back but only because she has given it to me, in a more fulfilling way. It’s not about what I want, it’s about the both of us. Our desires.

  We pick up our hire car from the airport and I drive to the hotel while AJ calls ahead, making sure the rooms and my golfing equipment are accommodated as requested. We’ve got plenty of time to kill so we go to the bar for a couple of beers, which is what I’m limiting myself to tonight, only for our jovial catch up to be spoilt by the arrival of Darcy Trainor.

  She makes a beeline for me, her father veering off to the right to a group of his peers and before I can turn away she’s positioned herself in between my legs. I plonk my beer bottle down on the bar and turn to push her away, so I can stand.

  She makes a sarcastic quip and I tell AJ I’ll see him bright and early for some practice shots. There’s no way I’m hanging around when she’s here. Anyway, I’m gonna smash this game tomorrow, I’m aiming for the top three, so an early night with no drama is what I need.

  With a clear conscience, I fall straight to sleep. When I wake, I check my phone and see I’ve got two missed texts from Meredith.

  I’m about to type a reply when AJ knocks on the door. “Come on man, our ride is here. We need to shoot.”

  When I open the door to him, he passes over my usual smoothie he’s picked up from the hotel kitchen, so I pop my phone in my pocket and leave the texting until I’m in the car.

  The hotel is close to the golf course and we are there in a few minutes, l start to type out a reply to Meredith but don’t get further than the opening word before the driver veers sharply to miss a deer that leaps out in front of us. The unexpected swerve sends my phone flying out of my hand and lands between the passenger seat and console in front of me.

  “Hey man!” I shout.

  “Sorry.” He pushes both his hands up toward the windscreen at the second deer that bounds across the road in front of us.

  I loosen my seatbelt, so I can reach to pluck the phone from the metal slider the seat operates on, but my fingers are too thick.

  “It’s stuck.”

  “Watch out.” The driver presses a button on the console, so, I lean back and watch on with horror as the seat crunches over the phone.

  “For fuck's sake. It’s ruined now!” I shout.

  “Sorry. I meant to move it forward not back.”

  I turn to AJ. “You’re gonna have to fix that. I can’t be without a phone.”

  He titters. “No-one can be without a phone, Johnson.”

  Slamming my elbow onto the door armrest, I stare of the window away from the two fuck-wits in the car taking my blood pressure sky high.

  “Un-fucking-believable,” I say to no-one.

  We are waved through the course security and as soon as we pull up to the VIP parking lot, I lurch away from the car, shouting back to AJ. “You’d better make sure that phone is sorted and back in my hands before this game tees off.”

  “Yes, sir,” he shouts sarcastically, hanging back with the driver to retrieve the phone and make whatever arrangements are necessary to organize a replacement handset.

  I stride up to the crowds that have arrived early and we have good-natured banter, signing merchandise and generally putting the phone incident behind me.

  They make the draw and I’m first off the tee which is my preferred position.

  The first round is miraculous. Every shot perfect, every breath of wind in my favor. And my eagle at the seventeenth secures my win.

  Fuck me.

  I’ve finished the day in the lead.

  Unheard of in two years.

  The years of partying and pretending that everything was fine, convincing myself time and time again each loss was simply a blip about to come good.

  Now it has.

  AJ scoots off to get an update on my cell phone while I have a jovial conversation with the president and the course judge.

  We go back to the hotel and I retire to my room with my new cell, keen to ring Meredith with my news and see how her day has been.

  She answers on the first ring.

  “Hey babe.”

  “Congratulations Johnson,” she says curtly. “I saw your result.”

  “Yeah, everything clicked into place today… But what’s up with you. You sound kind of… put out?”

  “To be honest Johnson, I am. What went on last night?”

  “Nothing. I had an early night.”

  “So, what’s the deal with you and that woman from the event you took me to on Saturday? There’s a photo with your hands on her ass. And then you didn’t respond to any of my texts. Oh, apart from, ‘Sorry’. I mean what does that even mean? Sorry? Sorry for what? Making a fool out of me? Telling me you wanted to take it slow, get to know me when all you wanted was to shag your doctor?”

  “Hey, hey! Don’t read anything into some dumb-ass photo… or the text and believe me I’m not making a fool out of you.”

  I hear a heavy sigh.

  “Go on, Johnson.”

  “I don’t know about any photo, but if you’re talking about Darcy, then she turned up at the bar last night, tried to make a nuisance of herself, but I wasn’t having any of it. You saw how she is for yourself. I left the bar straight away and went to bed.”

  “So, what did the text mean?”

  “I didn’t get your texts until this morning because I crashed as soon as I hit the pillow last night. Must be because you kept me awake until the early hours the night before.” I laugh and she doesn’t, so I continue. “This morning I lost my phone down the side of the seat in the car. It got mashed up, and I didn’t even realize that part of the text I was typing at the time was actually sent to you.”

&
nbsp; I take a pause, but she’s not saying anything back in response.

  “Look Meredith, I know it sounds kind of lame, but it’s the truth. I didn’t get up to anything last night and my phone was out of action this morning. And seriously, I’m not making a fool out of you.”

  After a pause that goes on for way too long for my liking she replies. “Okay Johnson. I’m not getting all jealous on you. I simply wanted an explanation and you’ve given me one.”

  “Sure?”

  “Honestly, it’s fine.”

  I look at my watch. I’ve got a schedule to keep to myself and my physio will be here any minute to work on my back.

  “Look babe, I’ve got to shoot, I’ve got a massage booked.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah for my back. I have one every day during a comp.”

  “Okay, I’ll let you get off and catch up with you later.”

  Time to ruminate is not an option as the physio knocks on my door as I hang up the call. He sets up his table and I undress, letting my mind drift to Meredith and whether I appreciate having to explain myself to her. In the end, I decide she is worth it and the explanation she asked for was reasonable.

  We have the odd brief conversation over the course of the next couple of days and although I’d like to say it doesn’t affect my form, it does. But my overall result is not too shabby. I finish second and only to the current world number one, so I’ll take that.

  AJ and I part company when we get to the airport in New York. He goes back to Redwood and I go to the city, picking up a huge bouquet from a florist on the way.

  I park up and retrieve the bouquet from the back seat and rush across to the entrance doors of Meredith’s office building. It’s nearly five and I’m not sure how prompt she leaves the office. In my haste I run into a guy exiting the door, crushing some blooms.

  “Hey man!” I turn expecting to hear an apology, but he’s not interested, scurrying across the lot with his hands stuffed in his pocket.

  “Okay, wreck the flowers why don’t you.” I shout after him. “Jerk.”

  In my attempt to revitalize the flowers, I snap off a couple of blooms and deposit them in the trash can outside the door.

  Ruffled, I take the elevator up to the eleventh floor, taking the waiting to calm myself and decide what I will say. I need to explain my past and convince her I’ve moved on before she gives up on me. I have thirty tournaments a year that will take me away from home and she has to know she can trust me while I’m away.

  The elevator dings and it seems I’ve just caught her, as she is bobbed down locking the door.

  She straightens up when she sees me and her face softens.

  “Wow, they’re beautiful. Are they for me?”

  “Of course. I’ve come straight from the airport.”

  “Thank you Johnson. That’s kind of you.”

  I scratch my palm across my stubble. “Look I wondered if we could go somewhere for a drink, to talk stuff through. I need to explain about my past. It’s only fair.”

  “Okay.” She looks at the flowers. “Just a sec. I’ll put them in water, I’m sure I’ve got a vase somewhere in the office.”

  I take the flowers back from her while she unlocks the doors and scrabbles around in a cupboard for a vase.

  “Here this will do.” She fills a white pot with water from a dispenser in the waiting room and puts the vase on her desk.

  We leave together and go out to the lot. “We can take my car?” I suggest and I drive us both to a family friendly bar in the next neighborhood.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Meredith

  He orders a beer and I go for my usual glass of wine and take them to a quiet booth, away from the wall hung TV set.

  “Meredith, this stuff with Darcy and the other women is history. I’m not proud of what I’ve done but it won’t happen again, I swear. Only… realistically, my past may keep popping up.”

  I’m a little confused about what he’s said and I imagine my face shows it.

  “What I mean is I will not be that person that has one-night stands and parties until dawn. I’ve moved on and I need you to believe me. But some of those women are still around and socialize in the same circles as me, so like you witnessed at the golf dinner and the comp in Texas, they may still approach me. But I will always rebuke them. Always.”

  That is what I want to hear, so I gently nod, before sipping my wine and waiting for the next installment of his past story.

  “I know I’ve hinted at my past and you’ve commented on stuff you’ve read about me and I thought it was time to come clean and give you the real story.”

  “Okay.”

  He takes a pull on his beer. “If you’re interested that is?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  He takes a deep breath, and I steel myself for his revelations, hoping there is nothing I can’t deal with.

  “Darcy and me have… spent time together and the incident that sparked off my seeking help from you in the first place was down to one of those times.”

  “When you ruined the trophy cup.”

  He nods.

  “But that was the last and final time anything like that ever happens again. I resorted to one-night stands and meaningless flings after my one and only serious relationship.”

  Ah, this sounds like it is the missing part of the jigsaw. The reason he doesn’t trust women. I stop myself from further analysis until I hear him out fully.

  “When I was eighteen I met Kirsty,” I flick to his right wrist and notice the worn leather bracelet he wore there has gone. “She was raised in a golfing family - both parents played professionally, as did her brother, who at the time was my best friend. She would play a round or two but had other interests and was doing well at school. We dated throughout college and when she went onto university, I backed off and focused on my golf. As I climbed the ranks she fell into second place in my life.” He shakes his head. “I didn’t even attempt to go to her graduation.”

  I wince, and it’s not the taste of the wine, but the selfishness of him missing her an important moment in her life.

  “Not a great place to be I admit. But we carried on dating and things stepped up a gear, moving in to a rented place together and setting up a home. She was doing well at the auditing firm she worked at and spent her down time with friends and her family. Me, I played golf. All the while we were making plans and setting the foundations for the rest of our lives. Or so I thought. It wasn’t until we were well on our way with a move to Florida that she called a halt on it all. The villa was bought, the move all sorted. Shit, I’d even put a ring on her finger.” The intonation in his voice sharpening with the last statement.

  I wince again.

  “Sorry, I smart a little from that part. Not because of the ring but what that signified. I was in love with her and expected to be with her for the rest of my life. For her to raise my children and be at my side through a successful golfing career.”

  He runs his fingers through his hair. “But I’d stopped listening to what she had been telling me for months, shit no, years. And it wasn’t until I realized she’d gone for good I actually heard what she had been trying to tell me. ‘There isn’t an us anymore, Johnson. It’s all about you.’”

  “That’s tough.”

  He shakes his head and huffs. “Do you know what the worse thing is? I should’ve been mature enough to take it on the chin and mend my ways, but I didn’t. I made the rest of my twenties even more about me. I blanked it all with a one-man crusade to never letting a woman get that close again.”

  I continue to listen, without comment, the picture building up in my mind.

  “So, I sold the villa in Florida and got on with my life. At first it worked fine. My golf was on point, I lived and breathed the game, successfully blanking out any memories of Kirsty.”

  “So, you didn’t try to win her back?”

  “At first, but after a while I told myself that I was better off without her, a
nd if she thought she could do better then she should go for it.” He shakes his head. “And of course, she did. She’s happily married now, three kids and every picture the woman I thought she would be with me.”

  “And has there never been another girlfriend since?”

  “Nope. Not, until… you.”

  “Really?”

  “So that’s why you don’t have a significant other to share your success with?”

  “Pretty much, but for a while it didn’t seem to matter. The golf was enough. Then I remember the point even that went wrong. I spotted my dad in the crowd at a local tournament. He was on his own, scruffy looking with a big paunch and bald head. He didn’t look sad though, his eyes were like I remembered. Full of life. I lost my focus on the rest of the game, sensing him watch me all the way around to the last hole. I tried to catch up with him, but he was nowhere to be found. I couldn’t stop thinking about him and hired a PI to find him and offer to meet up. It was easy enough to find him; he was well known in the drinking community. But…” He swallows noisily. “But, he told the PI he wasn’t interested in seeing me. Said he was only at the tournament because he’d wangled a freebie ticket and heard there was an open bar with it.”

  He shakes his head. “With no-one to talk it over with I dealt with it the only way I knew how. I got wrecked. The night before another comp. But I played a decent enough round, so I shrugged it off and did it again and again, and before long I had convinced myself that I was invincible. I could drink as much as the next man,” he laughs, “or should I say my father, and still function. I guess I was trying to be better than him.” He taps his forefingers onto the edge of the table. “And there’s no shortage of girls looking for a good time when you’re a pro-golfer offering champagne on tap. So, it’s easy not to drink alone and party away the memories of anyone that dares pop up into my nightmares.”

  He waits until a group that comes in the door, settle down and find seats at the opposite side of the bar.

  “Then it all turned to shit. I could no longer hold it together, but I persevered, because I didn’t know what else to do.”