by Tawna Fenske
Willa shook her head, stifling a laugh. “I rest my case.”
A hint of sheepishness crept into his expression, but not much. “I like to do well.”
She laughed and marched over to the ball. “And I like to have fun.” With a solid whack, she sent her ball careening down the chute and across the green. It was a long way from the hole, but the sun was warm on the back of her neck and the breeze felt good ruffling her skirt. Making her way down the green, she turned back to watch Grady take his next shot.
“Focus,” he muttered under his breath, and Willa stifled another laugh. He tapped the ball like a total pro, nudging it just gently enough so it went straight for the hole. It swirled around a couple of times, circling the edge until it caught on a loose piece of turf and went spinning off to the side.
“Dammit.” Grady glared, seeming to forget she was there for a second. He shook himself out of it fast, turning to her with a smile. “Sorry. I guess I get carried away sometimes.”
She slung her club over one shoulder, studying him in a fascinating new light. “You didn’t mention this,” she said, ambling closer to the spot where his ball had come to rest.
“Mention what?”
“That you take mini golf waaaaaay too seriously,” she said. “This didn’t come up when you listed your faults for me.”
His brow furrowed a bit, but it was mixed with some of the earlier sheepishness. “I guess I never thought of it before.”
“Is it just mini golf or all athletic pursuits?”
He stepped forward to join her, considering the question. “Probably all of it,” he admitted. “We maybe shouldn’t hit the bumper cars later.”
“Noted.” She glanced at her ball. “Would it drive you crazy right now if I picked up my ball and just set it in the hole?”
He stared at her like she’d just suggested butchering a kitten on the ninth hole. “Of course not.” The twitch beside his left eye gave him away.
“Really.” Willa stifled a smirk as she stepped forward. “What if I did it to your ball?”
“Why—” He stopped himself, looking pained. “No big deal.”
“No?” Willa took another step forward. “What if I did this?”
She drew back her right foot and brought it forward, giving his ball a solid tap with the toe of her sandal. It bounced crazily back up the green, headed straight for the windmill.
Grady stared at her in disbelief. “You just kicked my ball.”
She grinned up at him. “Is that a problem?”
“Pretty sure that’s against the rules of mini golf.”
Willa laughed, weirdly intrigued by this new side of Grady. A heroic hottie who wouldn’t hesitate to risk life and limb to put out a fire but with a competitive streak so fierce, she could actually hear his teeth grinding together.
He stared forlornly after his ball, knuckles white as he gripped his club. “I don’t like to lose,” he admitted.
Willa looked into his eyes, charmed by his honesty even as his words struck a hollow chord in the back of her mind.
That’s what it’s about. That’s why he won’t give up after two dates. It’s not about you; it’s about winning.
Which was fine, really. He wasn’t getting attached; she wasn’t getting attached. This was exactly what she’d signed on for.
“Come on,” she said. “Let’s keep playing.”
“Are you going to keep kicking my ball?”
“Let’s do this,” she began, smoothing her skirt down as a gentle gust caught the hem. “Any time you start getting all psycho about your golf swing or the breeze or anything else you think is impacting your score, I get to kick your ball.”
He shook his head. “This is the weirdest date I’ve ever had.”
Willa got into position to putt. “It’s not a date,” she reminded him.
Gripping her club with both hands, she bent her knees a little and drew it back to swing. She didn’t hear Grady move behind her until she felt his hand on her ass.
“Excuse me?” she said, feigning dismay even as she leaned into his touch. She was damn glad she’d worn the thong.
His hand felt good there. She glanced around, grateful they had the course to themselves. All the families were inside playing arcade games and bowling, so he could put his hand under her skirt all he wanted.
He leaned in close, breath tickling her ear to make her shiver with pleasure. “Just relieving some tension,” he murmured, giving her ass a firm squeeze. “Like one of those stress relief balls.”
Willa leaned back against him, relishing his hand on her bare ass and the warmth of his breath on her neck. “You’re treating my ass as your own personal squeeze toy?”
“Maybe more of a fidget spinner,” he mused, rubbing his palm in a slow, languid circle over one naked cheek until she shivered with pleasure. “Is that a problem?”
“Nope.” Her voice came out breathy and high, and she couldn’t believe this was turning her on.
“Good.” He released her ass cheek, and Willa tried not to miss the feel of his warm palm on her backside.
They continued playing, making the rounds from hole to hole with Grady gritting his teeth and glowering every time the ball didn’t go where he wanted it to. Twice she had to kick his ball—once after he cursed at a stray bark chip on the green and once after he performed a particularly enthusiastic celebration dance over a hole in one.
“Have you always been like this?” she asked as he slipped behind her and cupped her ass again.
“Obsessed with your butt?” he asked. “Yep.”
“Hypercompetitive,” she said, swatting his hand away even though she kinda didn’t want to. “I wouldn’t have pegged you as a sports nut.”
“I don’t know that mini golf really counts as a sport,” he pointed out as he took his turn teeing off on the next hole. “But yeah. I guess it came from having so many brothers and sisters.”
“You said there were ten of you?”
“Yep. I’m smack-dab in the middle.”
What would that even be like? Willa couldn’t fathom it. “Do you see them often?”
“Every weekend,” he said. “Well, not all of them. Whoever makes it to the family barbecue. It’s at my parents’ place every Saturday, but usually half of us have something else going on.”
Willa shook her head, struggling to picture it. “I can’t imagine having that many brothers and sisters,” she said. “Or having any brothers and sisters. That’s just so foreign to me.”
“What was it like being an only child?” He swung and hit the ball, loosening up now that they’d implemented their ass-grabbing, ball-kicking rules. “Did you get lonely?”
Willa stepped up to take her turn, grateful it required her concentration so she didn’t have to meet his eyes. “I wouldn’t say lonely,” she said. “To be honest, my dad felt like a sibling half the time.”
“How do you mean?”
She bit her lip, not sure why she’d brought it up. It wasn’t like her to talk about her shitty childhood. “He wasn’t the most reliable parent on earth.” That was putting it mildly. “He’d forget to pick me up at school or buy groceries sometimes or—” She stopped there because Grady’s eyes had gone dark, but she could have kept going.
He’d forget to pay the electric bill.
He’d forget to buy me school shoes until my toes curled under from wearing sneakers four sizes too small.
He’d forget to come home for days on end.
Willa’s stomach clenched into a tight ball as she forced a smile. “It was a different sort of childhood,” she said mildly.
“How did you get your name?”
“What?”
“Your name,” Grady said. “You told me right after we met that Willa is short for William. That it was a long story.” He shifted his putter from one hand
to the other, studying her with those stormy gray eyes. “We’ve got time now.”
She watched him measuring her, studying her face, gauging her reaction. She knew if she told him it was none of his business, that she wasn’t ready to share, he’d respect it. He wouldn’t hold it against her if she didn’t feel like opening up.
“I was a surprise baby,” she said. “I don’t know all the details, but my dad told me I was completely unexpected.”
Grady frowned. “Like—until you arrived?”
“Close,” she said. “I guess my mom was almost eight months along by the time they found out. They were totally sure I’d be a boy. So sure, my dad made a bet with one of his poker buddies that he’d name the baby after him.”
Grady grimaced. “Must have been one helluva poker game.”
“Yeah. And William wasn’t one to let my dad out of a bet, so…” She shrugged, studying Grady’s face for a reaction. Was that pity or amusement? Maybe both. “It was easy enough to shorten it to Willa. That was my mom’s idea, I guess. That, and my middle name—Marie, for her mom. My grandma.”
“Were you close with your grandparents?”
“Not at all.” She looked down at her golf club, tapping the head of it with her sandal. “Apparently my grandparents hated that they named me William—hated it. They’d only call me Marie, which drove my father crazy. But my mom, she wasn’t great at standing up to her parents, so she’d call me Marie, too, whenever they were around.”
The words tumbling out of her mouth sounded familiar, but it was someone else’s voice. Even her friends had never heard this story. Not all of it, anyway.
Why was she telling Grady?
“After my mom was gone, it was just my dad and me,” she said. “And he’d make up these stories for me about a girl superhero named William. She could fly and time travel and make herself invisible if she wanted to. And she always saved the day.”
Willa didn’t tell him how desperately she’d wish for those same powers. To be invisible. To rescue her father or herself from what they’d become. The prickle in the back of her throat signaled an unwelcome encroachment of tears, and she knew she needed to wrap things up.
“Your dad sounds like an interesting guy.” He leaned against his club, all traces of competitiveness gone as he gave her all his attention. “It couldn’t have been easy raising a kid all on his own.”
“He did the best he could,” Willa said, still fighting the tear-filled throat tickle. “Anyway, we were talking about your family. You’re close?”
Grady didn’t answer right away, and the way he was watching her face told her he had a pretty good idea they were edging into territory she didn’t like talking about. She braced for him to push, but he surprised her.
“Yeah, we’re close,” he said. “I probably take it for granted that I’ve always got this support system around me. My parents are amazing, and I’ve always got siblings I can call if I need something.”
“That does sound nice.” The lonely longing in her voice should have embarrassed her, but it didn’t. “I always wondered what it would be like to have a big, supportive family.”
“It’s nuts, but I can’t imagine it any other way.” He looked at her for a long time, like he wanted to ask more questions but didn’t know how. “Come with me.”
“What?”
“To Saturday’s barbecue,” he said. “It’s the last one I’ll be able to do for a couple of weeks before I take off again. You should join me.”
She folded her arms over her chest and regarded him with the sternest look she could muster. “Meeting the family is definitely a date.”
He snorted. “Since you haven’t met my family, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt here.”
“What do you mean?”
“Trust me—hanging out with my family is the least date-like experience you could imagine,” he said. “More like a visit to the zoo or maybe an insane asylum.”
Willa laughed. “Is it noisy?”
“Family dinners?” Grady snorted. “Like a freight train hitting a fireworks stand. Like a truckload of hyenas being driven in a flatbed with a broken horn. Like a rock concert amplified by—”
“Okay, okay,” Willa said, laughing again. “I get it.”
“Not to make it sound unpleasant,” he amended as they walked together to the spot where their balls had landed. “My family’s great. They’re just…a lot.”
Something hot and wistful twisted in her belly, and Willa looked away so he wouldn’t see her face crease with longing. She had nothing to be sad about. The weather was perfect, and she was here with a good-looking guy. She had a beautiful home and career and—
“I’m serious,” he said. “You seem curious about it, and it’s free food. Come with me to the next one.”
She laughed a little at the “free” part. He knew which buttons to push, though he couldn’t know that wasn’t the appeal for her. A chance to experience family—real, normal family—that’s what she wanted to witness for herself.
“I accept,” she said. “Thank you.”
Grady grinned. “In that case, it’s an un-date.”
Chapter Eleven
“You’re taking her to meet your parents.”
Tony said the words flatly, the same way he might have if Grady announced he’d be riding a pink unicycle naked down Main Street at lunchtime.
“It’s not like that.” Grady moved off the weight bench and wiped his face on a sweat towel before assuming his position as spotter.
Though he wasn’t on duty, he liked to stick with his weightlifting routine on off days, so he’d come in early to join the guys for PT.
As Tony reached for the bar, he gave a snort of disbelief. “Taking her to meet your parents isn’t like what?” he asked. “You mean in the same way it’s not a date to have a tea party or go mini golfing or—”
“Shut up and lift,” he muttered. He wanted to be annoyed, but the guy did have a point. The number of times Grady had taken a woman home to meet his family could be counted on one hand with five fingers remaining.
In other words, never.
It shouldn’t be a big deal. His mom and dad were friendly, his siblings mostly okay. Yeah, they were loud as hell and nosy sometimes, but he loved the crap out of them.
So why hadn’t he brought a woman home before? And why was he thinking of doing it with a woman who’d made it clear she didn’t want anything long-term? Not with him, anyway.
He tried not to take that personally. It wasn’t like he wanted anything long-term with her, either.
“Your turn.” Tony got up off the bench and clapped Grady on the shoulder. “I’m just flipping you shit. You know I think Willa’s great.”
“She is great,” he said. “And it’s not like I’m looking to marry her or anything. I just like hanging out with her.”
“And talking with her?”
“Sure.”
“And making plans to do stuff together?”
“Of course.”
“And nailing her?”
“Hey—”
Tony put his hands up in mock defense. “I’m just saying, that doesn’t sound so different from marriage.”
“The hell it doesn’t.” Not like his parents’ marriage anyway, which always struck him as more of a strained business relationship than anything. How could it not be, with the stress of raising ten kids and paying the mortgage and dealing with a smokejumper’s crazy schedule?
His mom used to swear she didn’t mind, but Grady knew better. He’d seen the sadness in her eyes when his father would walk out the door to begin another endless shift. He’d seen the worry flicker across her face as she watched the nightly news for details on some forest fire raging out of control. Was his father there? Grady never knew, rarely had any idea which blaze his dad was working or even what state he was in t
hat week.
Grady flopped down on the weight bench and rattled off ten quick reps, barely feeling the weight.
“Slow down, Turbo.” Tony laughed. “Do we need to get you one of those anxiety aids? A fidget spinner or something?”
Willa’s ass under a floaty little skirt…
Grady stood up and wiped his face, deliberately not meeting Tony’s eyes. “Fuck off and take your turn.”
Tony laughed and mopped his brow with a towel. “Way to deflect, big guy.”
…
“You seriously grew up in this house?” Willa trailed her fingers along the handrail of the steps leading to his parents’ front door. Her eyes were all kid-in-a-candy-shop round, and Grady couldn’t help reaching for her free hand.
“I straddled that railing when I was six and slid all the way to the bottom.” He winced at the memory. “Nailed my nuts on the newel post.”
“Ouch.”
Willa pulled her hand off the rail and surveyed the yard while Grady tried to see it through her eyes. The house was well tended and large, but the shutters could use some fresh paint, and he needed to get with his brothers and plan a hedge-trimming party so their dad wouldn’t get up on the damn ladder. The old man’s back had been bothering him again.
Grady caught himself massaging his own low back and stopped. He’d landed hard on his last jump, and still hadn’t shaken off the ache.
He focused on Willa instead, conscious of the nervous energy radiating off her in waves. It wasn’t just the house—it was everything. What would she think of his family? What would they think of her?
“Someone in your family has a green thumb,” she observed.
Grady followed the direction of her gaze. “The honeysuckle?”
“All of it. The wisteria, the weeping willows—it’s beautiful.”
He nodded and took it all in as though seeing it for the first time. The grass was bright green and freshly mowed. His mom’s rosebushes were in full bloom, and there was a pack of tricycles at the edge of the lawn that belonged to his nieces and nephews. In other words, a pretty normal American house.