The Putting Green Whisperer

by McCarthy, Zoe M. ;

  Mark leaned toward her. “Nope. No lipstick. But she smells really good.”

  Allie pushed Mark away. “Take my word for it, it’s not a date.”

  Her reaction seemed out of proportion to the circumstance. Maybe her lipstick-wearing date with Grady had gone as bad as he feared. Man, he’d screwed up. It didn’t help that the driver was grinning and glancing in the rearview mirror. Shoot. He’d wanted them all to have a nice evening together. Why couldn’t Mark have kept his mouth shut?

  You should have held your tongue.

  Convicted. “I’m sorry, Allie. I shouldn’t have said what I did.”

  “I’m sorry too.” Mark had never sounded so contrite. So…tender.

  “It’s not a date.” Allie looked from Mark to Shoo. “OK?”

  Things looked bleak for a relaxing evening. Had Allie thought he’d asked her out when he’d invited her to dinner in thanks for all her hard work? Obviously, this was far from a let’s-grab-a-bite-to-eat meal. She’d dressed up. And by default, he had too. Then he’d sat in front with the driver. A slap in Allie’s face?

  He faced forward and stared at a bug splat on the windshield. He’d try to get Allie alone later and repair the damage.

  “OK,” Allie said. “I’m not upset with you guys any more, including you, taxi driver.”

  Shoo turned and caught her rolling her eyes. “Really?”

  “What a goof. Yes, I’m over it.”

  He returned a mock contrite look. “We don’t deserve your forgiveness.”

  “No, you don’t, but you said you’d buy me dinner, and I plan to enjoy it.”

  Shoo cringed when Mark’s eyebrows rose. Don’t go back to the date thing, buddy. While Allie dug into her small shoulder bag, he directed a warning look at Mark and shook his head.

  She produced a lipstick tube. “And, I’ll wear lipstick, because I want to.” She stuck her tongue out at him.

  Using her reflection on the window, she ran barely pink lipstick over her lips. Christine would have called lipstick like that lip-gloss. Whatever it was, it gave Allie’s lips a nice sheen.

  Near the entrance to the Riverwalk, the driver stopped and pointed out the bypass channel on Commerce Street. He suggested they get out and enjoy the walk to the restaurant.

  Shoo paid him, and the three joined other tourists and strolled the loop, pausing on the bridges to watch the dinner boats cruise the channel. Iridescent black and purple grackles, with their long legs and tails and ear-splitting calls, drowned out the whirring of boat engines. He’d forgotten about San Antonio’s annoying birds.

  As they leaned against a stone parapet and looked down into the river, Mark spouted several facts about the Riverwalk. Allie and Shoo sided against their amateur tour guide, claiming he’d invented the information.

  “No, you guys. I’m telling you the truth.”

  They moved on, and Mark stepped inside a souvenir shop. He hailed the clerk. “Excuse me, sir. What was this river called before it was called the San Antonio?”

  “St. Anthony de Padua.”

  “And how long is the Riverwalk?”

  “Two and a half miles.”

  Mark pointed to a tall tree. “What do you call this tree?”

  “That is one of our magnificent cypress trees.”

  “Thank you, sir. You have saved my reputation as a San Antonio connoisseur.” He gave Allie and Shoo a smug grin. “See. Exactly what I told you.”

  “How’d you know all that?” Shoo said.

  “I look up information on the Internet. I’m not totally crass.”

  Mark had spoken directly to Allie. So, that’s how it was. Mark was sweet on Allie. Did she realize how Mark felt? Her expression revealed nothing as she listened to him relate more San Antonio River history.

  Now, the last several days made sense: Mark going down to Allie’s room after she’d split on the poem-writing exercise, his giving up his TV shows tonight to join them, and all his worried talk about crashing Shoo’s “date.”

  Was Mark’s thing for Allie good or bad? Better than Grady being on the make with her, that was for sure. He’d hate to see inexperienced and vulnerable Mark hurt. Mark was his good friend.

  Allie slanted her head toward Mark. “You’re amazing. How do you remember all that information?”

  A shy smile accompanied Mark’s shrug. “I’ve always been pretty good at remembering stuff.”

  “That’s awesome, Mark.”

  Now who felt like a third wheel?

  Shoo checked his watch. “It’s almost five-thirty. Are you guys ready for Mexican? I hope they have an extra spicy choice, so hot it’ll blister my taste buds. And, I’m picking up the tab.”

  What else could he do when the possibility of Allie crushing Mark’s hopes loomed?

  Or…could Allie fall for Mark?

  ~*~

  A blister formed on Allie’s heel as they strolled toward Casa Rio. She’d purchased the ballet flats before her date with Grady, as an alternative to her sneakers. They’d done little walking that night, but tonight…

  Maybe the pain would distract her from how handsome Shoo looked in his button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Green was his color. Thankfully, Mark had come along as a buffer and chaperone.

  He ambled along, his stocky frame hiding Shoo’s leaner build.

  She peered over the edge of the canal. “I wonder, without safety railings if people ever fall in the water.”

  “Actually, quite often, according to my research,” Mark said.

  Allie tripped on uneven stones. “Oh!” Trying to right herself, she lost her footing again.

  Mark grabbed her arm and steadied her.

  Allie skittered to the other side of Mark, between the guys. How weird that she’d just wondered about people falling in, and then she almost did—on the one night she’d dressed up and didn’t want to look like a drowned rat.

  “I can see why people fall in.” She shuddered. “Especially when these crowds force people nearer the edge.”

  Shoo grasped her arm. “Watch your step, little lady. We don’t want you to fall and skin your nose.” His hand radiated warmth.

  Would the tourists coming toward them think she was Shoo’s date, instead of a klutz, needing a stabilizing hand? Dream on. When would she smarten up and annihilate every daydream that began with Shoo’s killer smile?

  Mark cast a glance at Shoo’s grip on her arm. Probably trying to decide if he should take her other arm, for added protection against her three left feet.

  Casa Rio’s renowned umbrellas in bright red, green, blue, orange, and yellow came into view. The closer they came to the restaurant, the quieter Mark got. Was she dreaming, or was he avoiding looking at her? He’d had no problem looking at her before. In fact, she’d caught him appraising her from top to bottom. Maybe her girlie clothes threw off uncomplicated Mark, in the same way a cardinal without his top notch would confuse a birdwatcher.

  The strange thing was, she’d liked dressing up. She’d even wanted to put on lipstick and a touch of blush, but she’d chickened out. Too risky. Shoo might think she was trying to lure him.

  Maybe she should have been more worried about Mark thinking she was trying to be someone she wasn’t. He was one of those guys who tried to come off as a jerk, but underneath his gruff exterior lay a teddy bear. And a good golfer. She’d hate to turn him off and ruin their friendship.

  Shoo released her arm and pointed forward. “Is that Rick up ahead?”

  For a moment, she could still feel where his fingers had warmed her skin. Would he grasp her arm again later? Maybe she should fake another foot-fumble.

  Was she pathetic, or what?

  Mark craned his neck and scanned the tourist stream. “Yeah. It’s Rick. I’d know his stride anywhere. I feel like I should have his golf bag hanging off my shoulder.”

  “Is that his wife with him?” Shoo asked.

  “Uh, huh. Julie. She’s one nice lady.” Mark stopped and turned to Shoo. “I’m going to ca
tch up to them and say hi.” He disappeared into the crowd.

  Had Mark just dissed her? Or was he still worried about crashing her and Shoo’s non-date?

  Shoo and Allie slowed their pace, giving Mark time to chat with his player.

  Shoo lifted his face toward the grackles in a tall cypress tree. “Man, those birds are loud, and annoying.”

  Allie looked up at the black birds and then shifted her gaze to Shoo. “Did Mark seem a little weird to you in the last few minutes?”

  He leaned away from her and raised his eyebrows. “I can’t believe you didn’t notice.”

  “Notice what?”

  “Mark likes you.”

  “Well, I like him.” She’d play dumb. Give herself time to recall any evidence of what Shoo had just dumped on her.

  Mark had special feelings for her?

  Shoo tugged her ponytail. “No. I mean Mark is sweet on you. You know, has eyes only for you. You’re his heartthrob. You’re—”

  “You’re crazy.”

  He grinned. “Do you want me to spell out the proof?”

  Definitely not. “If Mark likes me, it’s because he’s not getting out enough to meet other women.”

  Shoo’s expression cooled. “That may be true, but I hope you won’t encourage him if you can’t return his feelings.”

  “What feelings? He hasn’t shared any feelings with me. For the last ten minutes, he’s avoided looking at me.”

  “It’s the junior-high treatment, to hide his interest.”

  Up ahead, Mark worked his way back toward them.

  Allie halted and poked Shoo’s chest. “Don’t you dare start with that stuff again—the way you did after my date with Grady. Don’t pretend that you understand romance. Believe me, you’re no expert.”

  Shoo looked stunned. And hurt.

  Had she really said that? He probably thought she referred to his broken engagement with Christine. She opened her mouth to clarify what she’d meant, but what could she say that wouldn’t give away her feelings for him? Besides, Mark had reached them.

  He was out of breath. “Rick and Julie are headed back to their motel. I’m catching a ride with them.”

  “But you haven’t had dinner yet,” Allie said. “You need to eat, Mark.”

  Mark flicked a glance her way and then looked at Shoo. “Julie invited me for an ice cream pit stop.” He punched Shoo’s arm. “You’re off the hook, man. Thanks for the offer.” He saluted them. “You guys have fun.” He hustled away.

  Allie looked to Shoo. “I didn’t mean what I said about your romance expertise.”

  The oncoming stream of people parted to walk around them. Shoo pulled her from an approaching man’s path, and they continued to the restaurant. “It’s OK, Chihuahua.”

  “Chihuahua?”

  “Yeah, you know those dogs that don’t realize how tiny they are but yap at everybody without the least concern for big dogs’ larger sizes or intentions.”

  Her face tingled as the blood drained. Happy-go-lucky Shoo had called her on her big mouth. And she deserved it, even if it was for the wrong reason. Right now, she felt more rat than Chihuahua.

  He drew her head into the crook of his arm and lightly rubbed his knuckles over her scalp. “Bad, Chihuahua.”

  If a noogie, a gentle one at that, totaled her punishment, she’d submit, because Shoo Leonard had clearly corralled his anger and shown her mercy.

  He released her head, but hung on to her ponytail. “I better keep you on a short leash.”

  She mustered a wry smile. “I accept the noogie, but the leash thing with my hair is too much. Considering your lipstick comment in the cab, can we call us even for the day?”

  “OK. Truce. Let’s eat. I’m famished.” He sent her ponytail swinging, and it landed over her shoulder.

  They continued to walk. An artist displayed Riverwalk paintings done in hot reds and pinks, bright yellows and oranges, and occasional purples and blues. They stopped and perused the canvases.

  Allie pointed at one. “I’d choose that one. I like Casa Rio and its colorful umbrellas.”

  “I want the one with the grackles lined up on a cypress limb. I’d use it for target practice.”

  Mexican food aroma tantalized Allie’s nose. She nudged Shoo along, and they worked their way around the artist’s wares and moved on.

  Once seated beneath a red umbrella and their meals ordered, Allie munched a salsa-loaded tortilla chip. Nothing could be more perfect. A clear sky, the sun dipping low over the Riverwalk buildings and trees, Mexican food, and Shoo. Uh-oh. Too romantic.

  She reached for another corn chip. “Is Rick having a tough year?”

  “He’s definitely in a slump. Which, of course, puts Mark in a slump.”

  “I feel bad for caddies, and the pros who are barely making it from tournament to tournament.”

  “At one time or another, most have gone hungry, slept with fleas, and driven all night because they couldn’t afford airfare. That’s probably why Mark wrangled his way out of my invitation for dinner. I know he often sounds like a mooch…and sometimes he is…but I had to push him hard to let me buy him dinner in Conover.”

  Ah. So that’s why Mark had grown so quiet as they’d approached Casa Rio. Mark had no romantic interest in her. He’d simply felt awkward about Shoo paying for his meal. Shoo shouldn’t pay for her meal either. She’d cover her part whether he liked it or not.

  Their server arrived and placed food-laden bowls and plates before them, warning that the plates were hot.

  The waiter left and Shoo took her hand. Whoa. Maybe he knew more about romance than she thought. Shoo thanked God for their food and then his hand was gone. Her heart slumped and returned to pumping as usual. False alarm.

  Shoo exchanged a bite of green chicken enchilada for a spoonful of her tortilla soup. They chatted about the old Alamo movie and their favorite childhood films. So, this was what it could be like if she joined Shoo as trainer and caddy while he worked his way into the PGA tour. Perfect.

  As a boat passed, water lapped against the canal walls. The temperature must have plummeted in the last hour. Allie rubbed her arms.

  Shoo cut across an enchilada. The melted cheese formed a string as he lifted his fork from the plate. “Are you cold?”

  “A little.”

  “Not to outdo Mark the tour guide, but I’ve heard the temperatures here can drop significantly.”

  “I’m glad I ordered hot soup.”

  “I’d give you my jacket if I had one.”

  “That’s OK. I’ll take your shirt.”

  He grinned and unbuttoned a button.

  “Stop. I was kidding.”

  “I’m willing to give you the shirt off my back.” He freed another button.

  She jabbed her fork at him. “Stop. You’re embarrassing me.”

  He shrugged. “OK. Go ahead and freeze.” While he buttoned his shirt, he chuckled. “You’re so easy to rile.”

  “You wouldn’t be mortified if I took off my shirt?”

  “Oh, come on. That’s completely different.”

  “It is?”

  “Yeah. I have an undershirt on to keep me warm.”

  She laughed.

  “I like your giggle.”

  “I don’t giggle.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  “So what’s the difference between a laugh and a giggle?”

  “A laugh is what I do when I think something’s funny. A giggle is what you do when you think something’s funny.”

  She speared a tomato in her taco salad. “Webster’s probably cringing in his grave among the grubs and worms.”

  The waiter brought the check and laid it beside Shoo’s plate. As soon as the waiter turned away, Allie half-rose and pounced on the check.

  Shoo startled and grabbed for the bill. “No way.”

  She whipped the check behind her. “You can pay for your meal. I’ll pay for mine.”

  “This meal is my way of thanking you for the training,
remember.” He stuck out his hand. “Now give it to me.”

  “No.” She scooted her chair back and studied the bill.

  “Chihuahua, heel!”

  She jerked her head up. His mock frown looked silly. “You can’t scare me.” She dug into her small shoulder bag. “I’m not suffering guilt, picturing you starving on tour next year.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “OK. I’ll send you flowers.”

  “That would be a gross waste of money.”

  “Yes, it would. So, give me the check.”

  She hesitated, her wallet in one hand and the bill in the other.

  “I’m warning you, I’ll buy you platform shoes. Grow you to golden retriever size.”

  “All right. All right.” What a royal goof. She handed him the check and smiled. “Thanks for dinner.”

  He eased his wallet from his back pocket. “I can’t wait for my family to meet you next week. My stepmom will make her pork roast and pears for you and Mill, and Dad will want to know your training philosophies. You two will get along.” He cocked his head. “What’s the matter? You’re frowning.”

  17

  In Casa Rio’s restroom, Allie dried her hands. Why was it so blasted important to Shoo that she meet his family? She could picture it, Steve saying something about Shoo ruining the lives of his future wife, children, and him by pursuing a golf career. Then before her filters were up, she’d blurt some comment she’d be sorry for.

  She didn’t seem to have control of herself. She hadn’t realized she’d frowned when Shoo brought up the dinner-with-the-parents idea. Hopefully she’d covered it with her sudden need to visit the restroom.

  Allie applied lipstick and frowned into the mirror. So that’s what she’d looked like to Shoo. Ugly.

  She stuffed a stick of gum into her mouth, drew in a long breath, blew it out, and left.

  As she approached Shoo, his metal chair screeched back and he stood. His forehead wrinkled. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes. I’m fine.”

  He studied her face. “Are you sure?”

  “Have you paid the bill?”

  “All taken care of. Called a cab, too.” He stepped aside and motioned her to lead them from the outdoor dining area. He followed close behind. “Your arms are covered with goosebumps.”