by A. L. Brooks
“Hell, just be you. You’re a sweetheart, something that bitch Naomi couldn’t have figured out if she had a century to do so.” Charlie stood and walked over to Morgan. “Now, go get a shower because, trust me, you need one, and I will see you later on the course.”
She patted Morgan’s shoulder, then turned toward the door.
Morgan, a warmth deep in her chest from Charlie’s words, stood. “Charlie, wait.” Her friend turned, a small smile on her face. “Thanks. For…for being here and for giving me your own special brand of advice.”
Charlie laughed, then wagged a finger. “It’s worth a fortune, trust me. You don’t know just how good I am.”
Morgan laughed. “Uh-huh, I think I have a pretty good idea.” She grinned as Charlie rolled her eyes.
Powerful arms enfolded her, pushing her back against the elevator wall. The cool marble at her back did nothing to tamp down the heat that engulfed her body as a hot mouth plundered hers. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears; she clutched at the woman who kissed her so passionately, and in the next moment, she would sweep round to cup Morgan’s breast and—
Adrienne’s eyes popped open, and she sat bolt upright in the tub. Water cascaded over the rim and faucets. She’d been in that half state between asleep and awake, and the memories of that kiss had dared to invade her brain without her permission. Again.
Dammit, why couldn’t she wipe those images from her mind? Because she should, she really should. She had no business revisiting them as often as she had done in the last twenty-four hours. If only the memories weren’t so pleasant…
Tutting, she hauled herself out of the tub and toweled down. The soak was supposed to have been a way to shake off the irritation she’d felt ever since the elevator incident, but that clearly hadn’t worked. Morgan kissing her had stunned her but only momentarily, and then she’d wholeheartedly given herself over to it. It was only when she’d had the thought of touching Morgan, of caressing her, and then suggesting they go to one of their rooms that reality had walked up and slapped her in the face and she’d shoved Morgan away. Morgan’s confused expression had only made the whole situation worse, and Adrienne cringed at the thought.
She couldn’t meet her own eyes in the mirror above the basin; she didn’t want to look at the face of a forty-nine-year-old woman who should have known way better than to kiss Morgan.
She kissed you first, said a small voice in her head.
Like that was any kind of excuse.
After she’d pulled on some soft yoga pants and a sweater—the air conditioner in her room was set to fierce, and she couldn’t find a way to turn it down—she sat at the desk, hoping that immersing herself in her work would stop this ridiculous mental treadmill she’d found herself on. It was a long shot; the next thing she had to work on was the sequence of shots she wanted to get of Morgan on the PGA course, the first major they’d be filming her playing.
Her phone rang, and she snatched it up, grateful to whichever human was on the other end of the line for offering her a chance to be distracted for a little while.
Tricia’s chirpy voice said a breezy “Hello!” in her ear.
That’s what they have caller display for, you idiot.
“Hey, you,” Adrienne replied, then cleared her throat when her voice croaked. “How are you? What have you been up to?”
Good plan, get her talking about herself so she doesn’t have time to ask any pointed questions.
“I’m good and nothing much. But enough about me, how are you?”
Adrienne groaned. She knew there was no escape other than hanging up, and her good manners prevented that drastic action.
“Addy? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine.”
“That groan didn’t sound like you were fine.”
Adrienne pushed her fingers into her hair and held back the curses that wanted to leap from her mouth. “She kissed me.”
Silence greeted her announcement.
“Tricia, you still there?”
“Uh-huh. Just processing.”
“Oh.”
“Addy…” Tricia’s voice sounded dangerously close to patronizing.
Adrienne’s hackles rose. “What?”
Tricia exhaled loudly. “Did anyone see you?”
“No! We…were stuck in an elevator.” Well, it was half the truth.
“Well, that’s something at least. Right, this is rescuable. You’ll probably have to take a step back from the project. Perhaps send that chirpy assistant of yours out to do the face-to-face interviews from now on and—”
“Stop! Please, just…stop.”
There was a brief silence, then Tricia asked, “What the hell is going on?”
“I can’t shake it off. I like her.”
“Addy…” Tricia’s tone was loaded with warning.
“I know! All right? I know.”
“Okay,” Tricia said, clearly trying to keep her voice even and calm. “Let’s set aside the work thing for now. What about that age gap? I mean, have you thought about that at all? That all your cultural references are different, the music you grew up with, everything?” She sighed. “At the risk of sounding cruel, you do realize you were just starting college when she was a newborn baby, yes?”
Adrienne closed her eyes as the truth of Tricia’s words sunk in. Her friend was right—even without the work project between them, the age gap was…ridiculous.
Oh God, and I kissed her back.
“You’re right.” Adrienne sighed. “You’re right. Sorry.”
Tricia also sighed. “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to come down on you so hard, but you know you love your job. I’d hate for something this silly to take that away from you.” She laughed half-heartedly. “Although at least you are attracted to someone new—she’s the first woman who’s caught your eye since Paula left. That’s progress, right?”
Adrienne chuckled. “Yes, I suppose it is. I’m not dead yet, it seems.” Far from it, if the heat from that kiss was anything to go by.
“And hey, I really would like to see you with someone again, you know?”
Adrienne snorted. “Despite what’s been going on with Morgan, I really don’t think I have it in me, actually. I think I’m still too broken.”
“Well,” Tricia said quietly, “I respectfully disagree, but I accept that you need to find your own time for when you think you will be ready. Don’t be scared off by this. I’m worried you’ll go scurrying back into your lonely cave to hide away, and if you leave it too long, you’ll miss the boat.”
“People still fall in love in their sixties, you know.”
Tricia gasped. “You’re not seriously telling me you’re going to hibernate for over ten years?”
Laughing, Adrienne shook her head. “No, no, but just because I’m not ready yet at forty-nine does not mean it’s all over.”
“Okay, point taken.” Tricia huffed out a breath. “You okay?
“Mostly. I will be. Promise.”
“All right, I’ll leave you in peace then. Call me in a few days, okay?”
Adrienne said good-bye and set the phone back down on the table. She leaned over the smooth wood and laid her head on her arms. A twinge of guilt tugged at her: She hadn’t been entirely truthful with her best friend.
Yes, there was a part of her that didn’t think she was ready to be out there again. But a bigger part, a more worrying part, couldn’t handle how much she’d craved more of Morgan during that kiss. How she’d wanted to lose herself in it, to give herself over, completely and utterly, to the extraordinary level of emotion kissing that incredible woman had generated within her. To drop into that wonderful rush that came from being with someone new, where you lost all sense of yourself and allowed yourself to be swept away, not caring where you ended up because the ride was the only thing you were focused on.
That scared the shit out of her.
“Didn’t you want to watch Morgan’s practice round?” Jenny asked as Adrienne walked into the small conference room they were using as their base for the tournament.
It was just after five in the afternoon, and her assistant looked mystified at Adrienne’s appearance.
“No need. I’ll watch the first round tomorrow.”
“Oh, okay.” Jenny paused. “Sorry, I’m confused, you said yesterday that—”
“I know what I said yesterday. Today I changed my mind.” She knew her tone was harsh. She knew it, yet she couldn’t seem to stop it.
Jenny’s eyes widened, then she turned away and tapped furiously at her keyboard.
Adrienne inhaled slowly. “I’m sorry. I… Bad day.”
Jenny threw her a quick glance coupled with a brief smile. “Apology accepted.”
Adrienne pulled out her chair and flopped into it. The sound of Jenny’s fingers flying over her keyboard was strangely soothing, and for a few moments, Adrienne sat still and let her gaze drift.
“So, um, if you don’t want to go watch, can I?”
Jenny sounded nervous, and Adrienne didn’t blame her. Probably thinks I’ll take her head off. Come on, Wyatt, you’re a better person than this.
“You know what, why don’t you? Let me know how she’s looking.” She paused. “I mean, you know, her play, her demeanor.”
“Yeah, I got it.”
Jenny seemed oblivious to Adrienne’s verbal stumbling, and she breathed a sigh of relief.
“I’ll only catch the last four or five holes, but it’ll be worth it.” Jenny pulled on her zipped hoodie. “Anything to get another look at those arms. Have you seen the muscles?” She grinned and held up a hand before Adrienne could respond. “And no, I won’t do or say anything inappropriate. I’ve taken very seriously what you told me the other day. But I figure there’s no harm in looking, right?” She waggled her eyebrows. “Still, imagine all that power wrapped around you…”
Adrienne wanted the ground to open up and swallow her before her blush gave her away.
Jenny laughed. “Oh, boy, I need to find me someone with arms like those, clearly.” She flushed slightly. “Sorry, boss, none of that was remotely appropriate, was it?”
Despite her inner turmoil, Adrienne smiled. “Within these four walls,” she said, gesturing to their small room, “you’re good. Don’t worry.”
Jenny grinned and practically jogged out of the room.
“Oh God.” Adrienne moaned and dropped her head onto the table.
Harry was pissed, if the set of his shoulders was anything to go by. He marched ahead of Morgan down the narrow pathway to the first tee, and she sighed as she trotted after him. She’d been late to their allotted time for practice—only by ten minutes, but it was eleven minutes later than she’d normally be. Harry had raised one eyebrow, she’d shaken her head, and then he’d made a kind of growling sound as he hefted her bag of clubs. Now she stared morosely at his back, knowing that Harry, a stickler for punctuality, was disappointed in her unusual tardiness.
Luckily, she had, as usual, opted for a solo practice round, and only Lotte was slated to play behind her. She’d gracefully accepted Morgan’s apology for the delay and shooed her off with a smile on her face.
“Harry,” Morgan said as she finally managed to catch him where the path made a sharp turn toward the tee. “I’m sorry.”
He grunted, stepped onto the tee, and placed the bag on the ground. Only then did he turn to face her, casting a quick glance around before stepping closer.
“What’s going on?” His voice was gruff, but his eyes were soft.
She suddenly knew it wasn’t only annoyance he’d been feeling; he was concerned too.
She wouldn’t tell him. He knew her pretty well, but he didn’t need to know that.
“I just didn’t sleep too good. Then I went for a run to wake myself up, and time got away from me.” Not entirely a lie, but even so, it didn’t sit right in her gut.
He sighed. “Morgan, I…” He shook his head. “Nope, forget it. I really don’t need to tell you, do I?”
“No.”
And he didn’t. She knew what key words would come out of his mouth if he did. Professionalism. Focus. Work ethic. All the things he’d helped instill in her during his time as her coach and caddy.
All the things she was forgetting for the sake of a woman. And okay, that woman was pretty amazing, but even so…
“But you’re okay?”
“I am. Honest.” She straightened her shoulders and inhaled deeply. “I’m here. Let’s play.”
He nodded once, then turned back to the bag and reached for the driver.
“Hey, Morgan?”
Morgan froze. No, not now of all times.
Naomi stepped onto the first tee, a course official only two steps behind.
“What does she want?” Harry muttered, not exactly quietly.
Naomi shot him a withering glare, then turned back to Morgan all smiles.
“Hey, sorry about this. There was a mix-up with times this morning, and I missed my slot. I know you’ve booked a solo round, but would you mind very much if I played along with you?” She held up her hands as Morgan opened her mouth. “We don’t have to speak. We can just do our own thing, but I’d really appreciate it.”
Everything in Morgan screamed “No!” but with the official looking on, her smile friendly and unaware, Morgan was loath to appear rude or unhelpful. Her mind worked a mile a minute.
“Um, well…” In desperation, she turned to the official, a plump woman who looked to be in her sixties, iron-grey hair cut short with bangs that rode high on her long forehead. “I really do prefer to play solo. I don’t mean to be awkward, but can’t Naomi just play a solo round at the end of the day behind Lotte?”
The official smiled warmly. “You know, she could, but she did specifically ask for a round with another player. Although, come to think of it, I did see Mrs. Karlsson back there, and I know she’s playing solo. We could always ask her. Not sure why I didn’t think of that before.” She turned to Naomi, who looked like she’d just eaten something very sour. “If you’ll just give me a second, I’ll go check with her.”
Naomi gave her half a smile, then glared at Morgan. “Really? You can’t even do this?”
Morgan moved closer, not wanting this argument to carry to any other ears. “You know I like solo practice rounds. Believe it or not, this isn’t about you.” Well, not totally. “I’d be asking the same if it was any other player.”
Naomi snorted. “Oh, yeah. Sure.” She folded her arms.
Morgan shook her head and stepped back, refusing to engage with her anymore.
They stood like that for a couple of minutes, Harry quietly going about his business to Morgan’s left, whistling tunelessly as he did so.
Naomi’s caddy had clearly deemed it wise to stay the hell out of whatever was going on and leaned on her bag some fifteen feet away back down on the path.
Eventually, the pleasant-faced official returned, puffing slightly but beaming.
“Mrs. Karlsson said she’d be happy to have you join her,” she said to Naomi. “Miss Spencer, we’re sorry to have held you up even further.”
Morgan grinned victoriously. “Oh, no problem. Have a nice day.”
“And you.” The woman turned to Naomi. “Okay, Miss Chase, let’s head on back.”
Naomi threw Morgan a spiteful look, then stomped off the first tee.
“Wished I’d had popcorn for that,” Harry said in Morgan’s ear.
She laughed softly.
“Something going on there?” he asked, thumbing in the direction of Naomi’s retreating back.
Morgan sighed. “No, not really. She ambushed me in Chicago last weekend. We had…words.”
“She always was a dumb one,” he said dismissively. “Now, are we playing or what?”
“Yes, sir, we are playing!” Morgan snapped a salute. Relief washed over her at a bullet dodged.
Harry shook his head, handed her the driver, and stepped out of the way.
Chapter 11
Come on, you’re an adult. Act like one!
Adrienne glared at her reflection in the hotel bathroom mirror and sighed. She’d been doing a lot of sighing since getting up this morning. The knowledge of what she needed to do in the next few hours made her stomach clench.
It had been easy to avoid Morgan the last two days, but today was the first round, and it would look very odd to the people Adrienne worked with if she didn’t put in an appearance. But that would also mean being near Morgan, and every time she thought of her, a cold sweat formed at the base of her spine.
She was afraid. Afraid to appear unprofessional by not being able to set that kiss aside and just get on with her job. Afraid that she had upset Morgan by steering clear of her, by not talking to her, by continuing to send Jenny down to talk with her about the shots they’d be taking today.
Adrienne shook her head. Jenny, of course, loved it. One-on-one time with Morgan put a spring in her young assistant’s step that would be sweet in any other circumstance if it wasn’t so damn annoying.
Jealous, are we?
Yes, she was, and that made her squirm even more. Jenny was full of the stories of how well she and Morgan were getting on, the fun they were having talking about the tournament, the other players, and the less-than-stellar food in the press area. Jenny was, however, always careful to make sure Adrienne knew she wasn’t crossing any boundaries.
Every time she made a point of saying it Adrienne wanted to crawl into a cave and hide.
She reached for her toothbrush and vigorously cleaned her teeth. After rinsing her mouth, applying a thin sheen of lip-gloss and a spritz of perfume, she drew herself up to her full height and stared at herself in the mirror.
Get a damn grip and get on with your damn job.
Pep talk over, she strode back into the bedroom and pulled on her jacket. The pantsuit was overkill for a day of watching golf, but it was almost her armor, reminding her just what her role was here today. Her one concession to the reality of the day was a pair of white Reeboks rather than her pumps. She tied the laces quickly before pulling her large bag over her shoulder and heading out of the room.