Tee Time

by Jen Talty

  “So was I.” He lifted his brow.

  Her smile faded. “Just leave.” She choked on the lump that settled in the back of her throat when he took her hand.

  “I’m sorry I hurt you.” He tilted his head, catching her gaze. “I was young and arrogant, and I wanted it all right then and there, and I didn’t care who I stepped on to get it.”

  “What’s different now?” She pulled her hand from his.

  “I suppose I deserved that.”

  If she really wanted to be mean, she could remind him of his violent outburst on the golf course the day before his career ended, but discussing his temper might bring up Tom’s, and no way would she ever admit to Jack that Tom ever left a mark on her body.

  “It wasn’t a dig,” she said. “It was an actual honest question. I don’t know what you’ve been doing for the last four years. I haven’t a clue as to where you’ve been. You literally disappeared. There wasn’t even a sighting of you anywhere since you appeared in court after…” She let the thought dangle in the air. They both knew what she was referring to.

  A long silence filled the space while the waitress brought their food.

  “I guess not much has changed if you were arrogant enough to think I’d eat with you.” She dunked her fry into the ketchup and plopped it into her mouth.

  “Not true. I told the waitress to bring it over but to be prepared for me to be kicked to the curb, and since I already gave up my table, it meant either eating at the bar or taking it to my pickup.” He leaned back and lifted his arms, holding his palms to the ceiling. “So, can I stay? I’m buying.”

  Don’t do it. Don’t do it. Don’t do it. “Well, if you’re footing the bill, why not?” She shrugged. She’d rather eat a hot meal with bad company than a cold one alone.

  Asshole had the nerve to smile. “You look good.”

  “You look like the same cocky asshole that broke my father’s heart.”

  That wiped the smug grin off his face. “I’m not,” he said, dropping his burger to his plate. “I spent three years basically trying to drink or drug myself to death and let me tell you, I came close a couple of times.” He tapped at his chest. “About a year ago, I had a come to Jesus moment.”

  “I don’t mean to be rude, but I don’t care.”

  He laughed. “I can tell.”

  “For the record, I’m only doing this because my father asked me to.” She shoved her empty beer bottle to the side. “And because I will enjoy kicking your ass.”

  “Rudy said I had to give you three strokes, but honestly, you won’t need it. If I was a smart man, and we both know I’m not the brightest bulb in the closet, I’d be a no-show tomorrow.”

  “If you decide not to come, let me know. That will give me a little more time with my daughter in the morning,” Courtney said.

  “How is Bri?” Jack tossed his napkin on the plate and leaned back, folding his arms. When he’d walked out of her life for good, Bri had been about a year old and while Jack hadn’t spent much time with Bri, the few times he’d seen her, he’d been great with her. “She’s almost five, right?”

  No mother would ever forget the day their child was born, but Bri’s birth hadn’t been the miraculous event that most parents bragged about. It had been a night from hell that Jack had a front row seat for. Thankfully, she didn’t think Jack knew about the abuse because her father hadn’t figured it out until after Bri had been born.

  Courtney nodded. The memories of Bri’s first night on this earth flooded her mind. It was both one of the worst and best days of her life. “She’s amazing.”

  “She has you as a mom; of course she is.”

  “Don’t say that,” Courtney snapped. “You don’t know me. You haven’t known me in years, if you ever really knew me, so stop acting like we’re old friends.” She gathered up her belongings. “Whatever you do, don’t you dare go breaking my father’s heart because this Courtney.” She pointed to herself as she stood. “You don’t want to fuck with.”

  3

  The following morning Courtney awoke with a slight headache and the worst case of nerves she ever had. With the sun barely peeking over the horizon, Courtney dropped the bucket of balls and started warming up.

  One thing she loved about living with her father was that she could start her day doing the one thing she loved almost as much as her daughter, swinging a golf club. Playing the game competitively had lost its allure when she married Tom. Her life soured completely the moment she slept with Tom in the name of revenge. The only thing that kept her going was Brianna.

  She glanced over her shoulder and smiled while Bri practiced her chipping. She’d made it clear she wasn’t going to be a golfer, and both Courtney and her father were fine with that announcement.

  Courtney lined up the ball and swung.

  Splat!

  “Crap.” She sliced the ball into the water hazard her father built to the right of the putting green.

  “Mind elsewhere?” her father teased.

  Focusing on the flag, she ignored her father and landed her next shot about six inches from the cup.

  “Stay mad at me and you’ll crush him,” her father said.

  “Crush who?” She switched clubs, and flags, going for some distance. “Damn it!” She watched as her out-of-control backswing created a slice, landing her ball about ninety yards right and forty yards short.

  “Too much—”

  “The last thing I need right now is you in my head.” She dropped another ball on the grass and took a practice swing, stopping at the top to remind her of where her backswing should be. Checking the flag one last time, she addressed the ball and…

  Whack!

  “Nice swing, honey. Relax, either way I’m gonna take him back. He needs me.” Her dad stood closer, getting another ball ready for her, holding her club in the air. “Rotate faster.” He nudged her hip.

  She swung, smacking the ball on the sweet spot, and inwardly smiled. “I think you need him.” She didn’t glance up, just addressed the ball her father placed and concentrated on avoiding the dreaded slice. Her downfall.

  “I miss him,” her father admitted.

  “I know you do.” She looked at her dad, who looked out over the driving range. “I won’t lose on purpose. I have too much pride to do that, but we both know, Jack, even on a bad day, will most likely beat me.”

  He chuckled. “Never thought you would toss the game, and we both know you have what it takes to be the best. Hit your driver, then we’ll go. You can practice your putting at the course.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Sure thing, boss.” She pulled her driver out as her father stood back, hands on hips, analyzing her swing. Starting at about the age of five, she had to learn to deal with the great Rudy scrutinizing every aspect of her game. For the most part, it didn’t bother her, but right now, he was getting under her skin.

  After hitting a great drive, she collected her things and followed her father and daughter back to the house.

  The ride to the course was anything but quiet. Bri had heard them talking about Jack. She didn’t remember him, but she knew who he was, and she wanted to come meet him. Courtney wasn’t sure she ever wanted Jack and Bri to meet, but if he was here for more than a few more days, it would happen, and then Bri would tell Tom, and that wouldn’t be good.

  “Have a good day, baby.” Courtney kissed Bri’s cheek, giving her a big hug. “I love you.”

  “Mommy? Will I see my daddy on my birthday?”

  Courtney’s heart stopped. She’d tried so hard not to make Tom look like a monster in her baby’s eyes. An almost five-year-old didn’t need to know that her father had not only demoralized and beat her mother, but almost raped her as well. “Oh, sweetie, if he can’t make it, Grandpa will make up for Daddy not being there. And Chuck E. Cheese can’t wait to meet you; he told me so.” She batted Bri’s nose, hoping she once again distracted her enough. She asked so few questions about her father that Courtney hoped she’d eventually forget h
im.

  “Play good, Mommy,” Bri said. “I hope you kick Jack’s butt.”

  “Me too.”

  “I’ll come check on you as soon as I get back,” her father said from behind the steering wheel.

  “Thanks, Dad.” Courtney stood in the parking lot and watched her car disappear between the trees. There were days she didn’t think she deserved such a wonderful little girl. She just hoped she wasn’t screwing Bri up too badly.

  Once on the putting green, Courtney concentrated on the short game. Her putting had always been the strongest part of her game; it’s how she managed to beat Jack the last time she played him stroke for stroke. What she lacked in distance, she made up for in her ability to one-putt most of the time. And those one-putts came from her ability to place the ball near the pin when she chipped.

  Jack tended to get greedy on the course, and he made aggressive second shots, often getting himself in trouble. She’d take a nice par any day of the week than ending up with a bogey because she missed an up-and-down opportunity.

  “Nice stroke,” Jack said softly as if not to startle her.

  But her insides jumped anyway. “Thanks,” she muttered, not looking up, but setting up another putt. For the last few years, she’d hoped she could just forget about the ‘jolly green giant.’ She laughed out loud. It had been a long time since she’d remembered Jack in terms of the nickname she’d come up with for him years ago.

  “What?”

  “Trust me, you don’t want to know.”

  “Okay.” He lined up a putt and missed.

  She lined up the same putt, and…

  Clank.

  The ball bounced successfully in the cup. She smiled and tipped her visor to him. God, she’d missed him.

  Way too much.

  “I’m sunk if you keep putting like that.”

  “Maybe you need to worry about your own game.” Butterflies floated around in her stomach. He could still get to her.

  “Let’s get the show on the road.” He yanked his clubs and pulled the bag on his back. They clanked with each step he took toward the first tee.

  “Same rules as always?” She set her bag down near the men’s tees. She planned on playing from them, but he needed to play from the professional tees.

  He shrugged as he took one last stretch and then placed his ball on a tee. He took a practice swing, then glanced over his shoulder. “A three, huh?”

  “Nope. I’m actually a one, but you always gave me three strokes, and I’m gonna keep them. How’ve you been playing?” She worried some about her ability to beat him. His game was always at his best when he was a little rusty.

  He turned and waggled the club, did his little dance with his feet before his body stilled for a second, and then he swung, perfectly.

  “Nice.” She followed the ball’s slight fade as it landed dead center about three hundred and twenty yards down the fairway on a short par four. “Damn.”

  “Last time I played a full round that I kept score, I hit two over, but that was a while ago. For the last month, I’ve just been practicing.”

  “You never liked to just hit balls.”

  “I told you. I’ve changed.”

  They walked to the men’s tee box where she had about ten yards, but her drives, even if they went straight, couldn’t match his. This time she came close, about two hundred and ninety-five yards. She smiled. Her first tee shot usually set the tone. It was going to be a good round.

  By the ninth hole they were even, both at one under, which meant Courtney was winning. His frustration didn’t go unnoticed. While he hit the ball well, he couldn’t putt to save his life. “Do you want a drink?” she asked him as they made the turn.

  “Gatorade would be nice.” He took his putter out and made a few short strokes in the grass while he waited.

  Courtney couldn’t help but notice how uncomfortable Jack looked. She didn’t know if it was her or the game. Whenever they’d play in the past, he’d been easygoing, relaxed, and carefree. Today he seemed to be wound tighter than a forty-year-old virgin.

  “If you don’t mind me saying, you’re pushing all your putts,” she said after he missed an easy five-footer for birdie.

  “Really? Ya don’t say.” He addressed the ball and hit the crap out of it. Getting angry had always been good for his long game, but not so good for his putting.

  “Well, then use it.” She huffed as they headed down the fairway. “Just—”

  “Okay, Rudy.” He glared at her.

  “Just trying to help,” she said bitterly. Why she wanted to help him was beyond her. He broke her heart and would do it again if she gave him half a chance.

  “You don’t want me around. So why the pointer?” He studied his putt, addressed the ball, and sent it toward the cup.

  “I see you still can take direction,” she teased when the ball landed in the cup with a clank. She looked up at him and vertigo set in. She held her hands out to the sides and tried to stable herself. If only she’d taken her putter with her.

  “Court?” He held her by the biceps.

  “I’m fine.” She shrugged him off and headed for the next tee.

  He hit his ball and then gave her a displeasing look. It wasn’t as bad as the day she’d told him that she was pregnant and getting married. No, that day he looked like he bit into a lemon. This was more of a look as if the sun were in his eyes, making him squint.

  “What?” she asked.

  “What made you dizzy?”

  “Out in the sun,” she said, stepping in front of the ball. She knew the second she started the swing she should have stopped. She mumbled a few choice profanities over his chuckles as her ball went sailing to the right rough.

  For the next few holes they remained quiet. He’d gotten two birdies, and this last hole he chipped in for eagle. This put him at five under, with her at even. He was in the lead, with only one hole to go. He’d have to really screw up and she’d have to do the impossible to catch him.

  “I concede.” She sighed. Match over. She’d lost. And not because she couldn’t beat him, but because she let him get into her head. A mistake she swore she’d never let happen again.

  “Care to up the stakes? Do or die on the last hole?” His smooth voice rippled across the tee box, landing in her ears and sending a warm shiver down her spine.

  Now she just had to keep him out of her heart.

  She squared her shoulders, looking at him head-on. “Will you go away if I beat you?”

  “No,” he said flatly. “I want to golf again. I need this, Courtney. I need your dad.”

  His level stare left her feeling unstable. Spots danced in front of her eyes, and she swayed. Feeling like she would fall over, she sat down on the bench. The motion sickness had been getting better. She only seemed to be having issues when she was in elevators, planes, occasionally glancing up at the sky, or anything she wasn’t in control of. She wasn’t in control of anything at present. “If you won’t go away, then there’s nothing left to bet.”

  “Why?” He took a step closer to her.

  “Why!” Abruptly, she stood and fell over when a sudden wave of nausea attacked her senses.

  He knelt at her side in seconds. “What the?” He took her hand and helped her up. “Are you sick?”

  “I told you, I’m fine. I just had a dizzy spell from standing up too quickly and from being in the sun all morning.” She pushed him away, looking down at the ground.

  He cupped her chin. His fingers glided across her face. His green eyes filled with compassion as he tilted her head. “You almost passed out. What’s going on?”

  “If you must know, I suffer from vertigo. I had a concussion a while back, and for some strange reason, every once in a while, I feel like I’m on a roller coaster. But it’s getting better.” She batted his hand away. The unwanted sensations his touch gave to her made her vertigo seem miniscule. No mistaking he still had the same effect he always had on her, and she resented the hell out of him for it. />
  “How’d you get a concussion?” he asked as if he cared.

  “None of your damned business.” She managed to calm herself and walked, though a bit shakily, to her clubs. “Since you won, I’d like to call it a match.”

  “I’d like to finish the last hole.” He stepped in front of her.

  “Be my guest.” Taking the time to play another hole with him, looking at him, wishing he had returned her feelings all those years ago, she didn’t need to torture herself anymore. She’d done what her father asked, and if her father chose to get back into the coaching game, then so be it. She would just have to ask both of them to leave her out of it. She’d forgive Jack, but she wouldn’t become his friend. Not again. Her heart couldn’t take it.

  “With you. I’ve really missed you.” He pulled her clubs off her shoulders.

  She froze, unable to move or speak. She sucked in as much oxygen as she could, but she couldn’t release it from her lungs. She just stood there and stared at him, screaming at herself to run and run fast.

  His strong hands lifted her visor off her head and smoothed away a few stray hairs that had fallen from her ponytail. “I’m so sorry, Courtney,” he whispered, cupping her face. “You have no idea how sorry I am. I’ve thought about you every day.”

  She looked into his green Irish eyes and melted. Her heart pounded as the blood in her veins pumped with unsteady bursts throughout her body. She opened her mouth, but only a grunt escaped her lips. Five years ago, she gave him the opportunity to love her, and he looked at her with disgust in his eyes. Today, those same green pools looked at her as if she were the center of the universe, but that wasn’t possible. Jack thought only of himself. She was just a pawn in his plan to get back in the circuit.

  “I wish I understood then, what I understand now.” He traced her cheekbones with his thumbs. “I wish I thought it would be okay to feel the way I did.”

  “What are you talking about?” she managed to squeak out.

  He tilted his head and moved even closer. So close she thought he might kiss her. Oh, God. He wouldn’t dare.

  She blinked.