Page 28 of Play the Last Card
I smile, my inner child cheering for what’s about to happen. “I haven’t been since I was a kid.”
“We can go somewhere else if you want,” he says. I turn my head to stare up at him. His green eyes are filled with worry and it makes something in my chest tighten. He’s nervous. Boy, do I like that he is. It matches my own nerves.
“No. I love mini golf.” Now I do lean back into him a little, smiling up at him as his features shift from doubt to relief. I smirk. “I’m very competitive though. Hope you’re ready to lose.”
I step out of his space but reach behind me, taking Scott’s hand to drag him to the entrance. The inside of the building is as bright and lit up as the outside. There’s two staff members leaning against a bench behind the counter and early two thousand pop hits play loudly over the speakers. Other than the two staff members and us, the place is completely empty.
“Are they closed? Didn’t you say you booked?”
“I did.” I slow down at the empty venue as he nods. His fingers tighten around mine, tugging me along. “I booked out the whole place.”
“You … you what?!”
“Mr. Har–” One of the staff, the manager according to the title on his name badge, greets us.
“Scott is fine,” Scott cuts him off with a small smile. “Thanks for doing this.”
“Of course.” The manager smiles widely and hands over two putters and golf balls for us to use.
“We open back up to the public around four so you have until then.”
“You booked this place for three hours?! That’s … that must have cost a small fortune.” Scott just shrugs before taking the putters from the counter in one hand and reaching for my own again with the other. He pulls me away from the counter and towards the archways that lead off to the courses.
He stands me in front of them, my back pressed against his chest again, holding out the putters and the balls in front of me to choose from. I take the neon pink ball and the shorter of the two putters.
“Which one first?” His words are quiet, said in a low drawl, his breath against my ear. If I was to turn my head slightly, tilt to look at him, our lips would be centimeters apart.
Would he kiss me?
Did I want him too?
God, yes.
Instead, I keep my eyes trained ahead and study the entrances to the course. After I allow myself a minute to enjoy his presence, I step away. Turning to face him, I walk backward toward the jungle themed course and flash him a smirk. “You’re going down.”
He laughs, eyes shining under the brim of his signature cap. “Bring it on.”
***
“Wow, you really are awful at that.”
“Putting is not my strong suit. I’m better at driving.” We both watch the small ball slowly come to a stop. Scott’s golf ball, mind you. I’m winning.
“Uh huh, interesting. You know, you can just admit that I’m a better golfer,” I say as I swing the golf club gently next to me.
“This isminigolf and that seems like admitting defeat.”
I nod in agreement. “It is.”
He leans against the giant wave modeled around the eighteenth hole feigning a thoughtful look. “Nah, I don’t think so.”
I roll my eyes. Over the last two hours I’ve probably permanently etched a smile into my features and my cheeks are starting to hurt from laughing so much. The butterflies in my stomach are raging and even though I’m doing my best to feign confidence in his presence, my hands are definitely shaking a little every time he watches me take a putt.
I’m still winning, though.
I line up my shot, pull my arm back a little and let loose. Just enough for the golf ball to bounce off the angled wall and head straight for the hole.
I watch as it slows, crawling toward the edge. “Come on …” I whisper, watching closely. Scott’s eyes are on the ball too. We both watch it teeter before finally falling in. I drop my putter onto the fake green and lift my hands above my head in victory.