Gripped (Prescott #2)

by Joanne Schwehm

  • • •

  Florida was treating me well. William had told me the golfers on the Ladies’ Tour Golf Professionals tour were playing on a course not far from where I was staying, so a couple of days later, I decided to watch a round or two.

  As I made my way down Highway 275 to the Long Shore Golf Links, I thought of everything William told me. Putting anyone before golf would have been laughable before I met Beverly, but now I didn’t know. Drake put Lucy first and we were all happy that he did, but my brother lived for politics and wanted to be the president of the United States, for God’s sake, and he didn’t think twice about it. Granted, he could and should still run for office and maybe he would, but was I ready to give up my dream?

  Jesus Christ, Dane! You sound like a selfish asshole!

  That fucking angel spoke in my ear, which I supposed was my conscience. Even though I somewhat agreed with what it said, I couldn’t help but wonder if it was really selfish to want something so badly you’d be willing to sacrifice for it.

  Therein lay the problem—it wasn’t just my heart I’d be sacrificing if I chose golf over Beverly, it would be hers too. That was why I fucked women and didn’t bother with any of the complicated shit that came with a relationship. Now, if I made the tour, I’d need to worry about hurting someone. Fuck!

  So, was it really so selfish of me to go after my dream? Golf was in my blood and what I lived for, so why should I feel guilty about it? I knew Beverly wanted me to succeed, which was great, but if I did, I’d be on the road a lot, and that wouldn’t be fair to her. Granted, she could come with me if she wanted to, but she had her own job, and I wasn’t going to discount that.

  Cold air from the air-conditioning blasted through my rental car, but I was still overheated by the thought of having to make a decision about my future. Did it need to even be made? I could honestly say that if I had to choose right now, I’d probably choose golf.

  The ladies’ tournament had started by the time I arrived at Long Shore, and I heard my college friend Emmy Adams was leading. Emmy was a fantastic player; she and I had played on the golf teams in school. She was the perfect girl—smart, gorgeous, loved to play golf, and was funny. Hanging out with Emmy was effortless, so I did it often.

  After I paid for my ticket, I made my way down the cobblestone walkway to the practice range where I knew Emmy would most likely be. It wasn’t difficult to find her; I’d know her perfect swing anywhere. Her platinum-blond ponytail swayed as she did her follow-through. When her drive landed at the 250-yard marker, she shook her head.

  I stood behind her and chuckled. “You’ll never outdrive me, you know.”

  When she turned around, her face lit up and her lips turned into a smile that could stop traffic.

  “One day, Dane Prescott, I’m going to make you eat those words.” She slotted her club in her bag and threw her arms around me. “I wondered if you were going to be here.”

  “It’s good to see you.” I held her tighter. “God, I’ve missed you.”

  When I released her, I took a step back to check her out. She had on a black, white, and pink golf outfit, and a white baseball cap with a pink breast cancer logo. Neither of us had a sponsor yet, so it didn’t matter what companies or causes we decided to support. Although, if we won the tournament, all bets were off. Sponsors would be clamoring to get their hands on the next hot athlete, and Emmy and I would be set. Rumor had it that V1 Sports Drinks was ready to pounce, and being they were a huge company, the payout would be large.

  I watched her practice for about thirty minutes before she had to go get ready. The rest of my day was spent following her through the course. By the time she approached the eighteenth tee, she was tied for first. The leader was already in the clubhouse, so if Emmy birdied the hole, she’d win.

  Calm, cool, and collected, that was my Emmy. She placed her ball on the tee, stepped back to take two practice swings, and then glanced over to where I was standing.

  I gave her a confident nod and mouthed, You got this. And she did.

  Emmy ended up winning the tournament, which meant she was now going on tour. She ran over to the gallery where I was standing and launched herself into my arms.

  Thrilled for her, I swung her around. “I’m so proud of you!” I gave her a kiss on her forehead after I set her on the ground.

  “You’re next, Prescott!” she said confidently before she walked away to talk to reporters and to turn in her scorecard.

  CHAPTER 22

  ~ Beverly ~

  I missed Dane, and it bothered me that I hadn’t talked to him since he first got to Florida eleven days ago. It felt like forever. Lucy told me he’d made the cut and was in the final rounds. This was it—it came down to just two more days.

  Lucy called yesterday to tell me their family would be getting together on Sunday at Jack’s house to watch Dane play the final round on television, and wanted me to join them. At first, I was hesitant to accept the invitation, but once Lucy sensed my apprehension, she squashed it like a bug by insisting I should be there.

  To say I loved Lucy would be an understatement. I’d never met someone so willing to help; she made everyone feel comfortable. Every day since I moved to Virginia, she’d either texted or called me. Lately, I’d talked to her more than Dane. She was like the sister I never had but had always wanted. The entire Prescott clan was that way, and Lucy wasn’t even one of them yet.

  Lucy and I were joining Gretchen for drinks tonight. We were meeting at Juno’s, an upscale bar in Ashburn, to celebrate both Dane’s making the cut and my moving here. I put on my favorite skinny jeans, a pale blue baby-doll top, and a pair of strappy wedges. My hair was up in a messy ponytail since I didn’t have the time to put extra effort into it.

  The upscale bar was full of young urban professionals winding down after their work week. Laughter bellowed from a table in the center of the room. When I glanced at the table, I met the eyes of a very attractive man. He wasn’t as handsome as Dane, but no one was. He winked, nodded, and raised his highball glass to me. Before I could even smile back, Gretchen came out of nowhere and practically tackled me.

  “You look gorgeous!” She gave me a tight squeeze and said, “Come on. Lucy grabbed a table for us.” Taking my hand in hers, she pulled me behind her, weaving us between tables.

  When Lucy spotted us, she waved. “Hi, ladies!” We slid into the booth across from her. “I wasn’t sure what you wanted, so I ordered a bottle of white wine.”

  Gretchen pivoted toward me. “So, tell me how my handsome brother is.”

  All I could do was shrug. “I don’t know. I assume he’s okay, but I haven’t spoken to him since the day he arrived in Florida.”

  When I heard the snarkiness in my tone, I wanted to suck the words back into my mouth. Gretchen was his sister, after all, and I sounded like a petulant child.

  Lucy gave me a comforting smile. “According to Drake, once Dane gets in his zone, he blocks everything else out. But that doesn’t excuse him not calling you in over a week.”

  “Well . . .” Gretchen’s voice trailed off, and Lucy shook her head.

  “No, Gretch, he should at least call her. I’d be pissed if Drake was away and we didn’t talk for days.”

  The last thing I wanted was them arguing about Dane. Time for a subject change.

  “It’s fine. I’m sure he’s busy. Anyway, what’s new with you ladies?” I looked at Gretchen. “How’s Scott?”

  Before she could answer, the waitress came back. She placed three glasses on the table while Lucy extended her credit card.

  “No need, sweetie.” The cork came out the wine bottle with a pop. “The handsome gentleman”—she pointed at the man who had given me a wink earlier—“said this one is on him.” Then she looked at me. “He wanted me to give you this.” She pulled a business card from her pocket and filled our glasses before she walked away.

  All I could do was stare at the embossed silver lettering on the card in my hand. MRF TECHNOLOGY SER
VICES. I was completely dumbfounded and rendered speechless.

  “What’s that all about?” Gretchen took a sip of her wine.

  “I don’t know him, so I don’t know. Maybe he thought we looked thirsty.” I took a tentative sip of my wine, letting it rest a bit on my tongue before swallowing.

  When I glanced over at Mr. MRF Technology, he looked straight at me. Busted. It was when he got up and headed in our direction that my palms began to sweat.

  “Ladies, I’m Mitchell,” he said, his deep voice sending a tingle down my spine that I chalked up to nerves. “I hope you’re enjoying the wine.”

  “We are. Thank you.” Gretchen glanced between him and me and then gave him a pointed look. “I see you’re interested in my brother’s girlfriend.”

  Mitchell smiled at all of us as he shrugged. “It doesn’t surprise me that such a beautiful woman is spoken for. I meant no disrespect to you or your brother. My apologies.” He leaned down to whisper in my ear. “If it doesn’t work out, my number is on the back of the card.”

  He smelled divine—all manly with a hint of whiskey, maybe? Too surprised to speak, I didn’t say anything, just watched him walk away.

  “Well, that was interesting.” Lucy sipped her wine. “What did he say to you?”

  “Nothing really. Where were we?”

  “We were talking about my absentee boyfriend.” Gretchen drained her glass and then poured another.

  I felt sorry for her; she was young and beautiful. Lucy had told me that Scott traveled a lot, which sucked, in my opinion, and hit a little close to home. If things worked out between Dane and me, he’d be gone the majority of the time.

  “Why do you stay with him if he’s never around?” I couldn’t help but ask.

  “We’ve been together for a long time.” Gretchen shrugged. “He’s comfortable to be with.”

  Lucy shook her head. “That’s not a reason. A sweatshirt is comfortable. A boyfriend should be attentive, loving, and there when you need him. He’s none of those things, Gretch. You need to reevaluate.”

  Gretchen frowned at her. “You sound like my brothers,” she said, a hint of sadness in her voice.

  Lucy frowned. “I’m sorry.” She reached out her hand, palm up, and Gretchen took it in hers.

  “Let’s not talk about him. We’re here to celebrate.” Gretchen raised her glass, and we all followed. “To Beverly and our newfound friendship, and to Dane, for making it to the finals.”

  • • •

  Once I got home, I slipped out of my clothes and into Dane’s T-shirt. I clutched the neck and brought it to my nose, inhaling his scent before I slid into bed.

  Thinking about him and the fact that we haven’t spoken in so long was driving me crazy. I wasn’t the type of girl who needed a man, but Dane was so much more than the average guy. I’d become accustomed to talking to him on a regular basis, and the fact that he hasn’t called shouldn’t irritate me, but it did. But more than irritate me, it hurt me. Didn’t he want to share what was going on with me? Didn’t he wonder how my new job was going? This was the end of my second week already.

  I rolled my eyes at my own thoughts and remembered what Drake had told Lucy. When Dane gets in a zone, he zones out. But I needed to wish him luck. Did he realize that I was thinking about him?

  Unable to take it anymore, I grabbed my phone and placed the call. One . . . two . . . three rings.

  Shit, I’m going to get his voice mail.

  “Hey.”

  Nope, not voice mail, but Dane’s gruff voice sounded as if I’d woken him. I glanced at my phone and realized it was after ten.

  “Hi, I’m sorry. Did I wake you?” I scrunched my eyes closed, praying that I didn’t.

  “It’s okay. What time is it?”

  Damn it! “It’s 10:25. I’m sorry. Go back to sleep.”

  “Are you okay? Is everything all right?” His concerned voice was a bit clearer now.

  “Yes, everything’s fine. I was thinking about you and wanted to wish you luck this weekend. I know we haven’t talked a lot, and I . . . I miss you, Dane.”

  He cleared his throat, and I could hear him rustling around. The thought of him in bed made my girly parts tingle. My eyes missed the sight of him, my ears missed the sound of him, but most of all, my skin missed his touch.

  “I miss you too. I’m sorry I haven’t called. How’s the new job going?”

  “It’s good. I actually went out with Lucy and Gretchen tonight. They’re a blast, but being with them made me think of you.”

  “Oh? Where did you go?”

  “Juno’s.”

  “Ah, the meat market of Northern Virginia. Tell me, how many guys hit on the three of you?”

  Meat market? Images of Mitchell popped in my head, along with his business card that I’d stuck in my purse before leaving the bar. Was Juno’s that sort of place? It didn’t seem that way; after all, no one had approached us other than Mitchell. Maybe there was another bar called Juno’s.

  “Did I lose you, Beverly, or are you trying to remember the number of guys?” Dane’s voice had tightened, verging on sounding annoyed.

  “It was just one.” Oh my God! What am I saying?

  “Let me guess. He hit on you, right? It would have to be you. Gretchen goes there a lot with her asshole boyfriend, and Lucy has a rock on her finger. Not that that deters men, but my brother is well known.” When I didn’t reply, he added, “Thought so.”

  “Nothing happened, Dane. A guy bought us a drink, that’s all.” I let out a breath. “Okay, and maybe he gave me his business card, but that’s it.”

  Dane let out a huff. “He’s not stupid; I’ll give him that. You were probably the hottest woman in the place.”

  This entire conversation was making me so uncomfortable, my skin almost crawled. “Well, I don’t know about that, but my heart belongs to a sexy golfer, so it doesn’t matter. Anyway, I wanted to tell you how proud I am of you, and that I’ll be cheering for you.”

  “Thank you.”

  He still sounded a bit put off, so I tried to shift the focus to him. “Tell me, what does a golfer usually do to relax before an important round?”

  “Have sex.”

  I froze and gripped the phone tighter. Those two words were like bullets to my heart.

  “Have sex? You have sex to relax yourself?”

  “You asked what golfers usually do. That’s what I would usually do.”

  His irritated tone threw me off a bit. Was he angry about Mitchell? I hadn’t even done anything.

  “Um . . . okay. Well, get some rest, and good luck this weekend. I’ll be watching at Jack’s house on Sunday. Your brothers and sister are having a get-together, and they invited me.”

  “Sounds great. I miss you, but I’m exhausted and need to be at the course early.”

  “I miss you too. Sweet dreams.”

  “Good night, Bev.”

  Once he hung up, I was sorry I wasn’t in Florida with him, but I had too much to handle with classes starting next week to leave right now.

  CHAPTER 23

  ~ Dane ~

  Hearing Beverly’s voice last night made me realize how much I actually did miss her. I was an ass for not calling her more often, but in my defense, I’d been so busy, the days had flown by. After each round, I’d sit with William to discuss what adjustments I needed to make before play the next day. Then I’d grab a bite to eat and be in bed by nine each night. Alone.

  My family understood how I got because they were all the same—focused and driven. When Drake was running for office, he’d buckle down and get lost in his work and the campaign. Josh and Jack were the same way with their businesses, and Gretchen sadly understood when a person needed to focus on work, because that was what her douchebag boyfriend did.

  Golf, like other sports, was a mind game. If your head wasn’t in the game, you’d fuck up and lose. I couldn’t afford anything to impact my focus; not with my future on the line. To ensure that, I had to insulate myself, m
uch like jurors being sequestered during a trial. The only person I’d spoken to back home was Drake, and that was because he’d called me.

  William met me at the driving range where I was warming up for my ten a.m. round. Swing after swing, my ball soared in the wrong direction.

  Why? Because when I thought about Beverly, my mind immediately went to someone hitting on her at the bar. Not just hitting on her, but giving her his card, and that was what my thoughts kept coming back to.

  Did she keep the card? Did it have his number on it? Would she call him if it did?

  “Hold on there, Dane.” William’s authoritative voice stopped me in the middle of my swing. “I’ve been watching you, and you’re rushing your follow-through. You’re pushing the ball.” When I took a step back and gripped my club, he said, “Son, your knuckles are white. You should be holding it like a lover, not like someone you want to strangle.”

  Drawing in slow and steady breaths, I approached the tee again. When I addressed the ball, I loosened my grip and did my best to clear my head. But when the club head smacked the ball, the ball hooked to the far left rather than sailing straight ahead.

  “Son of a bitch!” I exclaimed, trying to ignore the other golfers who looked over at me.

  William stepped between me and the tee and lowered his voice. “What seems to be the problem? Nerves?”

  “Women. Well, one woman.” And a man who had hit on her when I wasn’t there.

  Realizing I was grinding my teeth, I took a deep breath and tried to relax. I needed to get a grip.

  William just stepped back and crossed his arms as he stared at me, shaking his head.

  • • •

  The day sucked. Even with all of William’s great advice, Saturday was my worst round of the week, landing me in third place going into tomorrow, the last round of the tournament.

  FUCK!

  At the end of the day, I stormed into my hotel room, flopped on my bed, and repeatedly pounded the mattress with my elbow. Anger flooded my veins. I wasn’t mad at anyone but myself, but I should know better.