This Time Around

by Denise Hunter

  “Is that all right?” Landon’s voice sounded in her ear.

  “What?”

  “Five o’clock. Does that time work for you?”

  “Yeah. Sure.” She blinked, and whatever trance had held her disappeared. “I mean, yes. I’ll be here.”

  “See you then. And Sophie?”

  She turned away from Joe. “Yes?”

  “I can’t wait to see you.”

  Click. She looked at the phone receiver for a minute. Shouldn’t his words excite her? A handsome, successful man was asking her out. She couldn’t ask for a more perfect launch back into the swing of dating. Instead, she felt a tiny bit uneasy.

  “Hey, Sophie.”

  She hung up the phone and turned to Joe, her guard back up. Thankfully when she looked at him this time, she felt nothing but annoyance. “Joe.”

  His slightly crooked grin vanished. “Uh, I got your note.”

  “Good.” She crossed her arms.

  “You didn’t have to apologize.”

  “I know.” She wasn’t going to give an inch with him. Just because her good Southern manners forced her to apologize didn’t mean she trusted him. Or even liked him. Then what was that feeling a few seconds ago?

  “I need to apologize, though. I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have butted into your business like that. You were right to be upset.”

  Her tense shoulders relaxed a little. “Apology accepted,” she said, her tone less sharp.

  “I liked the note card.” He touched the brim of his baseball cap, then thrust his hands behind his back again and started rocking on his heels. “What kind of flower was that?”

  “A gerbera daisy.”

  “Are they all red?”

  She was surprised he was asking questions about flowers. Then again, he was probably making small talk, which she didn’t have time for. Because I have a date. She had a date! She glanced down at her work uniform, which consisted of her usual denim shirt, this time with a navy blue T-shirt underneath. She couldn’t go out with Landon looking like this.

  “Did you want to buy something?” Sophie asked, the words shooting out in a rush as she tried to calm her nerves. Did she have time to run home and change? She glanced at the clock. If she left in five minutes, she’d be back just in time for Landon’s arrival. “If not, you can show yourself out.”

  Joe stopped rocking. “You’re still mad at me?”

  “I’m not mad.” Which was true. She was panicked, but not mad. “I have things to do, that’s all.”

  The phone rang again, but Sophie ignored it.

  “Don’t you need to get that?” Joe tilted his head in the direction of the phone.

  “The girls in the back will answer it.” She tapped her foot. They would also have to close the shop for her, but they had done that before, so she wasn’t worried. What she wanted was for Joe to leave. “You didn’t answer my question,” she said, glancing at the clock again.

  “What was it?”

  “Do you want to purchase something?” She couldn’t keep the annoyance out of her voice.

  “Well, I—”

  “Sophie?”

  She turned to see MacKenzie poke her head around the doorjamb to the back room. Her auburn ponytail hung over her shoulder. “Yes?”

  “That was Mr. Ferry. He said he might be a few minutes late picking you up tonight.”

  Sophie’s cheeks burned. She didn’t miss the curious glint in MacKenzie’s eyes, and she ignored it. “Thanks, Mac.” When the girl disappeared into the back room, she turned to Joe, flinching at his dark expression.

  “You’re going out with him?” he asked, his hands now hanging stiffly at his sides.

  She looked at him straight on. “That’s none of your business.”

  “Even after what I told you yesterday?” He took a step toward the counter.

  “You didn’t tell me anything!” Realizing she was almost yelling, she lowered her voice and leaned toward him. “You ordered me not to go out with him. For no reason at all.”

  “I didn’t order you.” He leaned closer to her. “I strongly discouraged it, that’s all.”

  Her gaze didn’t move from his. “What I do with my dating life is none of your business.”

  “What if . . .” He paused, his eyes holding hers. “What if I want it to be?”

  * * *

  Joe couldn’t keep his eyes off Sophie. Somehow they’d ended up with only the counter between them, and for some crazy reason he wanted that counter gone. He couldn’t believe he’d ever thought Sophie Morgan was quiet and prim. This woman was fiery. And beautiful. She smelled so good, like a mix of flowers and sweet-scented shampoo, the combination heady instead of clashing. Her red cheeks looked so soft, her mouth so kissable—

  “What are you talking about?” She scowled, but she didn’t move away. Instead, it seemed like she had inched a little closer.

  What had he been talking about? Oh, he’d said something about wanting her dating life to be his business. And he did, just not like this, with them at odds with each other. Although it was kind of sexy, he had to admit. He grinned at her.

  Finally, she pulled away from him. “You’re nuts,” she said. “And I have a date to get ready for.” She turned and started walking toward the door to the back room.

  “Go out with me,” he said.

  Not stopping, she let out a short laugh. “Right. Like I would ever do that.”

  “I’m serious.”

  This time she stopped and turned to face him. “Why should I?”

  “Because . . .” He wanted to tell her something casual, like he thought they would have fun together, or it was something to do, or they were both single so why not. But while all of that was true, it wasn’t the main reason. “Because I like you.”

  Was that surprise flickering across her face? Then again, he probably imagined it because now she was eyeing him with suspicion. “Since when?”

  Good gravy, why was she asking all these questions? “Does it matter? I like you and I want to go out with you. Is that so hard to comprehend?”

  “Not when you put it so romantically,” she said, sarcasm dripping from her words.

  He had to admit his game needed some work. A lot of work. But that didn’t change how he felt. “Sophie, please go out with me.” Great, now he sounded like he was begging.

  Her stance softened. “You are serious.”

  “I am.” For once he stood still, even though his nerves were in high gear. “We can go out for dinner tonight.”

  “I have a date, remember?”

  “Cancel it.”

  Her thin light brown eyebrows shot up, along with her chin. “No. I want to go out with Landon.” She gave him a derisive look. “I don’t want to go out with you.”

  Ouch. Double whammy. Not only had she rejected him, but she was also still going to see that slime bucket Ferry.

  Joe quickly regrouped. Fine, she didn’t want a date with him? He could accept that. He hadn’t exactly presented himself in the best light to her. But he couldn’t abide her seeing Ferry. The determined set of her chin told him she was going no matter what he said.

  Then an idea came to him. “Do you like to golf?”

  She frowned, looking surprised. “I’ve never played before.”

  “I can teach you. It’s a fun game, and a great way to work off steam.”

  “I’m not steamed.”

  He smirked. “You weren’t until I showed up.”

  “What if I don’t want you to teach me?”

  She wasn’t going to make this easy on him, and he respected that. But he had made some headway—her frown had disappeared. “I’ve been a jerk, I know that. And I understand that you don’t want to go out with me on a date. But I still want to do something to make up for making you mad. I’m not a bad guy, I promise. I want to prove it to you.”

  “By teaching me how to play golf?”

  “Not the whole game. We’ll just hit some balls at the driving range. If you hate
it, you can blame me, and we won’t do anything together again.” That wasn’t the result he wanted, of course, which was a complete change from how he felt yesterday afternoon when he was talking to Travis. Sophie was supposed to be an icebreaker. A way to ease back into dating. Now, and he still couldn’t explain why, everything had changed. Even so, being with Sophie as friends was better than nothing—if she accepted his offer, of course.

  “I guess you won’t leave until I give you an answer.” She let out a heavy sigh, as if he’d asked her to build a brick wall with him. “Fine. I’ll hit a few golf balls with you. But that’s it, and only if you promise to leave me alone afterward.”

  “Deal,” he said quickly.

  “Wonderful. Now can you please leave? I have to tell the girls to close the shop.”

  “I’m outta here.” He pointed his thumb toward the front door. “I’ll see you tomorrow night after work. I can pick you up at—”

  “I’ll meet you there at six.”

  He gave her the address, then beat it out of the shop. As he got in his truck, he couldn’t help the smile taking over his face. One way or another, tomorrow night was going to be interesting.

  Chapter 5

  Sophie pulled into the parking lot at Ace’s Driving Range, which was just outside of Maple Falls. The gravel crunched beneath her tires as she pulled into a parking space next to an older-model black pickup truck. She realized she had no idea what Joe’s car looked like. As she turned off the engine, she paused, asking herself for the dozenth time why she had agreed to Joe’s invitation. More importantly, she asked herself why she was looking forward to it.

  She thought about her date with Landon last night. She’d never tell Joe, but it was a disappointment. She’d managed to rush home and change into something presentable, then run a brush through her hair and arrange it into a loose ponytail at the nape of her neck. She only wore makeup to church on Sundays, but she added a little mascara to her sparse eyelashes before hurrying back to the shop in time for Landon to pick her up in his white Mercedes with genuine leather upholstery. How did she know it was leather? He had mentioned it twice on the way to the steak house in Hot Springs.

  The meal was delicious, the conversation anything but. She’d had no idea someone could talk about himself for an hour straight, but Landon had. After she stopped gaping at his looks, she realized he was boring and tuned him out about fifteen minutes in. That’s when she started thinking about Joe’s warning. Surely he hadn’t gotten upset because he knew Landon was a dud when it came to interpersonal communication. But why had he been so insistent about wanting her to stay away from him?

  It was only when Landon started inquiring about her shop, the history of it, and how she ran the business that she felt remotely engaged. Some of his questions were a little too nosy, especially the ones about the day-to-day management of her business, but then again, he was a lawyer. They were used to asking questions. She had evaded the more detailed ones, but at least she’d had the chance to get a word in edgewise.

  When he dropped her off at home, she had hurried inside, not inviting him in. She wouldn’t have even if things had gone well. She wasn’t ready for that step yet. The date had been such a letdown she wasn’t even sure if she wanted to go out with anyone else at that point.

  Knowing she couldn’t keep Joe waiting, she got out of the car. At least tonight would be over quickly. She fully intended to humor him for a few minutes, then go back home and spend Friday night on her couch, like she always did.

  The sudden sensation of butterflies in her stomach as she approached the range surprised her. They’d been absent last night with Landon, but now they were flitting around with a vengeance.

  Sophie touched her stomach, as if the gesture would settle them down, then she looked out at the range. A long strip of fake grass was divided into several spaces, and two golfers were already hitting balls into a large field. To her right stood a brightly painted blue-and-yellow clubhouse. She assumed she needed to go there for instructions.

  “Hey, you made it.” Joe appeared at her side.

  She turned and looked at him. For once he wasn’t wearing his baseball cap. His black hair was almost military short, but the style looked good on him. He was dressed in a navy blue collared, short-sleeved shirt, and instead of shorts he wore trim khaki pants. She barely noticed those, since she couldn’t keep her eyes off his biceps. They were huge and accentuated by his tight short sleeves.

  Quickly she turned away from him and said, “Uh, yeah. I’m here. What do we do?”

  “Don’t sound so excited.” He chuckled, and she released an inward sigh of relief that he seemed relaxed. She didn’t like being uptight, and lately she’d been wound up tighter than an old-fashioned alarm clock.

  He led her to the clubhouse, asked for something called a driver for her, then pulled out his wallet.

  She held up her hand. “I’m paying,” she said and pulled her own wallet out of her crossbody bag. She handed the money to the teenager behind the counter, then turned to Joe. “What are you going to play with?”

  “My driver is over there.” He pointed to one of the stalls where a golf club leaned against a wall next to a white bucket. “I got here a little early to get a few balls in.”

  Sophie nodded and followed him to the stall. “I really don’t know what I’m doing,” she said, suddenly feeling nervous. She wasn’t the most athletic person.

  “That’s okay. I do.” He flashed her a confident grin, which somehow managed to settle her nerves. “I’ll demonstrate what to do first, then I’ll show you the steps involved.”

  She watched, the cracking sound of golf clubs hitting balls surrounding her. Joe lined up in front of the ball, and she listened as he explained everything he was doing.

  “When you’re ready to hit the ball, you bring your club back while bending your elbows.” He drew his arms back and then connected with the golf ball, hitting it high and far until she couldn’t see it anymore.

  “Wow,” she said, forgetting that she was supposed to be disinterested in the activity. She moved closer to him. “How far did it go?”

  “Almost three hundred yards.” He looked pleased.

  “Is that good?”

  “Decent enough.” He turned to her. “Are you ready to try?”

  She shook her head, her nerves popping up again. “I don’t think I’ll be good at this.”

  Joe’s expression was encouraging. “You won’t know unless you try.” He motioned for her to stand in front of him as he stepped back from the tee. He gave her verbal instructions on how to grip the club, how to stand, how to place the club next to the ball, and then how to bring the club back before striking the ball. “Time to give it a shot,” he said, moving away from her.

  Sophie tried to integrate all the steps, but her mind and body wouldn’t cooperate, and she ended up hitting the ball barely a few feet.

  “Hey, that’s not bad,” he said.

  She turned to him and smirked. “We both know it was bad.”

  “All right, so it wasn’t good.” He approached. “But it wasn’t bad. You made contact with the ball, which is half the battle.” He put another ball on the tee and stepped back again.

  Again she tried to remember everything he’d said, but when she missed the ball twice, he moved to stand behind her.

  “You’re overthinking it,” he said.

  “Of course I am,” she mumbled. When didn’t she overthink things?

  “Try to relax.”

  She stiffened. “I am relaxed.” She felt him move closer to her, and the tickling in her stomach started up again.

  “It might be better if I show you,” he said, his voice close to her ear. He was only a few inches taller than she was, and his chin hovered over her shoulder. “Is it okay if I do this?”

  When his arms circled around her and his hands covered hers as she held the golf club, she could barely manage to nod. He smelled wonderful, like fresh soap and a light, woodsy-scented cologne
. Nothing like the overpowering scent Landon must have bathed in before he picked her up.

  “You want to draw the club back like this.” He gently coaxed her arms into a swinging motion. After doing that a few times, he let go of her hands and stepped back. “Do you think you have it?”

  She had something, that was for sure. She couldn’t breathe, and once again her mouth turned to cotton. She was tempted to ask him to give her one—or twenty—more personal demonstrations. Whatever happened to hitting a couple balls and hightailing it back home? She couldn’t deny the pleasant feeling coursing through her, or her surprise that she had such a strong reaction to Joe.

  Before she could overanalyze all that, she swung and hit the golf ball. This time it went a decent distance, and she was thrilled. She spun around and looked at Joe, grinning. “How was that?”

  “Well done.” He beamed. “You might be hitting them farther than me by the time we’re finished.”

  Sophie’s gaze drifted to his impressive biceps again. Not when you have those guns.

  This time he noticed she was looking at him, which made him grin wider.

  Cheeks flaming, she grabbed another ball from the bucket, almost knocking it over, and quickly set it on the tee. Without hesitating, she swung at the ball . . . and missed.

  “Want me to show you how to hit it again?” he asked.

  She glanced at him, irritated at the teasing tone of his voice, not to mention his stance—arms crossed over his broad chest, emphasizing those biceps. Knowing he was doing that on purpose, she shook her head.

  “I’m fine.” She grabbed another ball, and this time she went through the paces before hitting it. There. She’d hit a few balls. Now it was time to go home, although she had to admit she was having fun. What wasn’t fun was this strange attraction she was experiencing, and the sooner she left, the better.

  “How about I get us some drinks?” Joe asked, sticking his golf glove into the back pocket of his pants. “Do you like lemonade?”

  “Yeah, but—”