Brooke watched him unfold it.
His eyes lit up. “It’s a treasure map!”
“What?” she said, like he had lost his mind.
Ben sat up straighter and took the light from her, illuminating the cracked piece of paper with moth holes in it. “Is this real?”
“I don’t have any idea.”
His wide eyes followed the winding dotted line to a big red X. “Maybe a bum stored it here and ended up passing away in the woods or getting killed by the hobo killer and now it’s ours.” He turned to her with a shell-shocked expression on his face. “We have to find this treasure. I could finally open my own studio!”
Brooke lost it and covered her mouth, giggling to beat the band. “It’s a replica of the treasure map from The Goonies, Captain Jack!”
His features fell. “What!”
She took a deep wheezing breath. “My dad used to trick our friends and cousins into thinking it was real.” She trailed off into a quiet moment of reflection. “Until Bobby Morrison dug up Joe’s rose garden looking for the treasure.”
“Joe?”
“Our neighbor.”
He turned back to the map, the excitement draining from his face like air in a punctured tire. “Are you serious?”
“Unfortunately.”
He snorted, following its lines and curves. “Damn, for a second there I thought One-Eyed Willie was real after all.”
A devilish grin played on Brooke’s lips. Her hand slithered into his lap. “I got your One-Eyed Willie right here.”
“You better start digging.”
She pulled her hand back. “On second thought, it’s probably time for you to get going.”
“Oh, come on,” he whined, pulling her back to him, “not very adventurous.”
Her fingers toyed with his zipper. “Only if you promise you won’t go golfing with my dad this weekend.”
His mouth opened but nothing came out. “I already told him I would.”
“So? Get a cold and cancel.”
“No way.”
Her gaze turned chilly. “Fine,” she said crossly, yanking her hand back.
A deep breath puffed his chest out. He released it. “You really shouldn’t use sex as a tool.”
The same owl hooted out into the lonely night, searching for a soul mate it had yet to find.
Brooke looked at him and pushed her lips into the side of her face, pulling his zipper down and reaching inside. “You really are insufferable, you know that?”
Chapter Sixteen
“Four!” Will watched the ball sail through the air, shielding the sun with one hand, an oversized driver in the other. He flinched when the ball landed. “Holy fucking shit,” he said, retreating to the golf cart. “I think I just pegged that lady right in the head.”
“No, I think you missed her.” Ben teed up a ball and took some leisurely practice swings. “But I think she might have stepped on it.”
“That figures.”
“If she did, you have to play it where it lies.”
Will jammed the driver into a bag strapped to the back of the cart. “Oh, you like playing by the rules, huh, Tony?”
Ben lined up the shot, waggling his hips through in the air. “As long as it’s PGA rules.”
A rolling laugh cart wheeled from Will before dying on the breeze. His eyes narrowed into something sinister as a lazy white cloud momentarily blotted out the sun above. “I like your style, T-Bone.” Will tightened his golf glove. “None of that mulligan bullshit.”
“And no foot-wedges either.”
“Care to make it interesting?”
“Sure,” Ben replied.
“Loser buys lunch.”
“Deal.”
An evil grin sliced through Will’s cheeks. “At Hooters.”
“Okay,” Ben laughed, setting the driver behind the ball and growing completely still.
A hawk screeched off in the distance as the breeze slapped against Will’s slacks. As expected this late in the season, the course was quiet, the fairway ahead a golden brown. Ben waited for some leaves to dance past. The sun popped back out and Ben drew the massive club-head back, swinging it down and crushing the ball with an earsplitting whack.
Will’s grin melted down his face like warm butter. “Good Lord almighty,” he muttered, watching the ball sail through the air. It split the fairway and came to a rolling stop near the three hundred yard marker. He turned to Ben. “I think somebody’s sharking me.”
Ben grinned as he holstered his cannon and jumped behind the wheel while Will hopped into the passenger seat. “Hang on to your butts.” Ben popped the parking brake and floored it. The golf cart sputtered into action.
“Whoa!” Will cried, grabbing onto the window frame to keep from tumbling out. “You’re going to spill my beer!”
Ben laughed and slowed down, the wind in their face. “Sorry.”
They traversed the rolling cart path, winding through a grouping of mature maples and birches. Two birds zipped right in front of the cart, narrowly cheating death as they chased each other across the undulating grounds.
“I can’t believe this weather.” Will took a careful drink from his can of Corona and swallowed with a happy sigh. “November!”
“Hell of an Indian summer.”
Will set the sweaty can into the cup holder and removed his ball cap, letting the wind run its fingers through his salt and pepper hair. “Aren’t you hot with that coat on?”
Ben looked down at the windbreaker, kicking himself for going with black. He had been so concerned with making a good impression he hadn’t given it a single thought. It was hot and sunny and his racing nerves weren’t helping any. If he failed to impress Brooke’s dad it was game over. He just needed to buy a little more time – a few weeks tops. By then, maybe Will could get past who he really was. The fact that Brooke had told her parents anything about that night made him cringe. He imagined telling his mother about that walk-in closet and shuddered at the thought. She would have had him reading the bible in the closet by candlelight for a month of Sundays.
Ben shook off the pressure and smiled, feeling good about his chances with Will and determined to enjoy the day.
Will pointed up ahead, bouncing in his seat. “There I am!”
Ben pulled over and brought the cart to a smooth stop.
Will stared down at the half-buried ball peeking out from the second cut of grass. “Sonofabitch.”
Ben chuckled. “Man, that thing is buried.”
Will pulled a seven iron from the bag, grumbling under his breath, and didn’t waste any time chopping the ball into the air. It landed on the green and rolled to within ten feet of the cup. “Yes!” He pumped a fist through the air. “That’s how we do, T-Bone!”
“Nice shot,” Ben said, driving them over to his ball next.
“You must really appreciate landscaping like this.”
Ben followed Will’s gaze around the course, his brow folding.
“Owning your own landscaping company and all.”
“Oh, yeah!” Ben said a little too quickly. “They are some real pros out here. Way outta my league.”
“Oh, I’m sure you’re just selling yourself short, Tony,” Will stretched his back out against the seat. “Hey, what kind of trees are those over there?”
Ben squinted at grouping of tall trees with orange leaves as he bought the cart to a stop next to Will’s ball, his heart hammering in his chest. “Those? Those are…uh, maples.” He pressed the brake with his foot, making a ratcheting sound.
Will shook his head like that was the wrong answer. “Always wanted one of those in our backyard.”
“Real pretty trees in the fall.”
“They sure are.”
Ben got out and pulled a pitching wedge from his bag. There was a light swoosh as the club head scooped the ball from the fairway and softly set it three feet from the pen.
“Nice ball, Tony!” Will took a long drink as Ben holstered his club and got back
in the golf cart. “How often do you play?”
Ben drove them up to the green, the round flying by. “I try to get out once every week or so.”
“No offense, but you don’t look like the golfing type.”
“No?”
Will shook his head. “Your arms look too big, but you definitely have a certain grace with the ball.”
The breeze washed over their faces as a Blue Jay cried out from a nearby oak. Ben stopped the cart next to the peanut shaped putting green and mashed the brake to the floor where it stuck.
Will took another easy drink and stretched an arm along the back of Ben’s seat, in no hurry to get out. “This is nice,” he said, taking in their surroundings.
“It really is. Thanks for asking me to go.”
“Thanks for going,” he said, toying with the can’s pull-tab. “I can’t pay Richie to go.”
“Maybe he’s not big on golfing.”
“That’s the thing,” Will said, twisting in the seat to face him. “He goes golfing all the time with his buddies. In fact, I ran into them out here last month.” He turned back to the green with dejected eyes. “It was all very awkward.”
“Maybe he’s afraid he’ll beat you and then you’ll make Evy break up with him.”
“Well, you sure don’t seem to share that fear.” he said, noting how much closer Ben’s ball was to the hole than his. “I make a bigger deal out of it than it really is. Richie just doesn’t want to hang out with the old man and that’s fine. He’s got a ton of friends his age already.”
“I wouldn’t say you’re old.”
“Kind of you to say, T-Bone.” Will squinted at him for a moment. “How old are you anyway?”
“In dog years?”
Will’s mouth opened but nothing came out at first. “Yeah, okay.”
“Four and a half.”
A blackbird landed on the green between their balls and picked at a dried leaf. Will watched it, doing the math in his head. “Huh.”
Ben tugged on the collar of his coat to let some heat escape. “Can’t believe it’s so nice out,” he said, deliberately changing the subject and taking a long drink of beer.
“Why don’t you take that coat off?”
“Naw, I’m good. I’m actually a little chilly.”
“Really? I just felt a bead of sweat trickle down my back.”
Ben looked around. “Won’t be long before this whole place is covered in white stuff.”
“Don’t remind me. But you probably love the stuff.”
Ben stared at him, hand resting on the wheel.
Will’s eyebrow went crooked. “Pushin snow? Makin the big bucks?”
“Oh!” Ben said a little too loudly, drawing some heads from two holes over. “Right. Well, long hours but good pay.”
“I bet.” Will set his can down and hopped out. He put his hands in the small of his back and stretched his spine. There was a loud pop and then he unsheathed his putter. “Guess I’m out again, huh?”
“That’s you.”
Will walked onto the dried out green, scaring the blackbird away, and knelt down. He used his putter to line up the shot, taking his time reading the green. “Can I ask you something, Tony?”
“Yeah, go ahead.”
“If there was one thing you could change about Brooke, what would it be?”
Ben snorted, the feeling of stumbling into a trap overwhelming his senses. Maybe Brooke was right about him after all. He thought about it as he stepped onto the green, putter in hand. “That she would like me as much as I like her.” Ben paused, considering it further. “Or that she wouldn’t talk so much.”
Will stood back up, his face as limp as the yellow flag atop the pole between them. Then he laughed. “She does have a way with words. Just like her mother.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Same smart mouth and gritty determination that drives me crazy. It’s a love/hate thing.”
“Did she give you a hard time when you first met?”
“Hard time?” Will laughed sharply, practicing his putting stroke. “I practically had to pay her to go out with me. And when we finally did go out, we had a great time and I still couldn’t get her to go out with me again.”
“Why is that?”
“Guess she wasn’t quite convinced I was good enough for another date.” He set the putter behind the ball. “Can you man the flag? I’m going to take a run at this.”
Ben grabbed the flagpole and bent it back in the cup.
Will’s eyes followed an invisible line to the hole. “I just hope to see you around more often, Tony. I really do.”
“I’d like that.”
“If I don’t get a win out here today, I’ll exact my revenge at the bowling alley. How’s that sound?”
“You ever play out at the Bass Pro Shop?”
Will stood all the way up. “Are you kidding? They have great white shark heads for ball returns!”
“Their shooting gallery is better than Adventureland’s.”
“We should go.” Will hunched back over the ball. How about tomorrow?”
Ben shrugged. “Sure.”
Will pulled the putter back and firmly struck the ball. He watched it roll, eyes getting wider as it neared the cup. “Come on, baby!”
The ball crested a light mound and curved left. Ben pulled the flag and watched the ball come to a stop just in front of the cup. It hovered over the edge for a split second before dropping in with a soft plunk.
“Yes!” Will cried, busting out another Tiger fist pump.
“Nice putt, Will!” Ben dug the ball from the cup and tossed it back to him. “Bet you couldn’t do that again in a hundred tries.”
Will caught the ball, a heavy frown sliding down his face. “Hey, what was that on your wrist?”
Ben froze, heart lurching into his throat. “What’s that?”
“Your wrist… That green thing wrapped around it.”
Ben’s adrenaline accelerated into overdrive, firing all pistons into explosive action. “Oh, that was my watch.”
Will’s eyebrows lowered. “Then what’s that on your other wrist?”
Ben glanced at the chunky black watch peeking out from his coat sleeve. His pulse quickened yet again. Terror bloomed in his gut. “My other watch.” He took off his cap and wiped a sheen of sweat from his forehead.
“You wear two watches?”
“In case I lose one.” He bent over his ball and lined up the putt, trying to act normal and praying that would be the end of it.
Will scratched his head. “Wow, you really like to know what time it is, don’t you?”
“I’m very punctual.” Ben was about to strike the ball but Will’s heavy silence drew his eyes.
Will pointed at his wrist, the color draining from his face. “That was a tattoo, wasn’t it?”
Ben swallowed dryly, dying for a long pull of his cold beer sitting in the golf cart which now seemed so far away.
Will took a tentative step closer, like he was walking on thin ice across the green. “Let me see it.”
Ben hedged before planting his putter between his legs and pulling his coat sleeve up. Will’s eyelids drew back. His features stiffened upon seeing the green tattoo mingling with a myriad of other tats spiraling up Ben’s arm and disappearing beneath the windbreaker’s sleeve.
“You’re him,” Will said dully, his breath coming faster.
Ben yanked the sleeve back down, desperate to make the dragon go away, yearning to go back in time and start over. “I can explain.”
Brooke’s father set his jaw and spoke from somewhere deep down inside. “You’re the lowlife cock-sucker who drugged my daughter.”
Ben raised a hand and took a ginger step back. “Now hang on, Will, that is not true! I would never do something like that.”
“No? Then tell me what it is true, Tony.” Will tightened the grip on his putter. “Because if I remember correctly, you were dating Brooke’s roommate, Candy.”
Ben backed c
loser to the cart, wanting to jump in and drive away as fast as humanly possible. “Mandy,” he corrected, “but I was going to break it off with her and then Brooke came along and my head got all dizzy and the next thing I know…” He trailed off for a quick breath, his chest rising. “And the next thing I know I had fallen in love with your daughter.”
Will’s expression went blank - unreadable. He stared at Ben, thinking only God knows what.
“It was a mistake.”
The touch of a snarl tugged on Will’s upper lip. “Which part?”
“I should’ve never lied to you and Laura, and I’m sorry. For the record, this whole thing was all my idea. Brooke was totally against it.”
“But what? You thought that if I got to know you, I’d just forget about the whole damn thing and we’d go skipping off to the Tasty Freeze, holding hands and singing Kumbu-fucking-ya?” He pointed the putter at Ben in an accusatory manner. “You knew we would never be comfortable with our daughter being in the presence of a man who could do such a vile thing to such an impressionable young girl like Brooke. Not to mention what you did to Mandy, which, by the way, resulted in my wife and I acquiring a new roommate in our golden years! Thank you very little.”
Ben spread his arms like wings and opened his mouth to defend himself but Will cut him off.
“You knew we would never let you do to Brooke what you did to Mandy! Didn’t you?”
Ben’s arms dropped to his sides, exasperation shooting through his veins. What had seemed like such a natural thing to have happened between two people that night, now seemed dark and twisted in the light of day. There was no denying it. Ben raised the white flag and prepared to take his medicine. “Yes.”
Somehow, Will managed a laugh and lowered the club. “You really had me fooled, Tony. Good for you.” He shook his head, baffled by his own naivety. “No wonder every time I called you Tony you were staring off into space thinking about cartoons and donuts.” Without another word, he crossed the green and climbed behind the wheel of the golf cart. He started it up and opened his mouth like he was going to say something else, but drove off instead.
Ben watched him crest a gentle hill and fade from view, his insides twisting with anxiety. “Sonofabitch,” he muttered, pulling his cell from his jeans. His thumb found Brooke’s contact and started texting.
Brooke & Ben: Before Fate Interrupted Page 14