Putting Out

by S Doyle

  Reilly let another rip, then another, then another. All exactly where she wanted the ball to go and all of them beyond the three-hundred-yard marker.

  “Holy shit,” he mouthed as he stared out over the driving range following the line of each of her balls.

  Fortunately, Reilly was an excellent mouth reader. “Guess I’m warmed up now. See you on the course.”

  Reilly walked away from the tee with a smile and Kenny shook his head laughing at her.

  “You’re going to shock them all.”

  Reilly glanced back over her shoulder at Rye, who very noticeably refrained from commenting or even watching her hit the ball.

  “I don’t want to shock them. I want to beat them. Let’s go.”

  27

  He was so lucky. So lucky to have an angel on his side so he could be here with Reilly. He’d missed her. After he scared her at the house he promised himself he wouldn’t try to get close again. But he had to at least see her. Then the tall one almost caught him on the golf range and he was afraid he was going to have to give her up for good. But the angel spoke to him and gave him the strength and determination to keep going.

  He was sorry for scaring her. If the tall one hadn’t chased him, she might have understood that he only wanted to watch.

  The tall one had to go.

  “I can’t believe Pop isn’t going to be here.”

  They were lying together face to face in bed and Luke reached out to brush the bangs away from her eyes.

  “He said it was too hard for Grams to make the trip and he didn’t want to experience it without her. Personally, I think he’s too scared for you. It might be easier for both of them to watch it on TV.”

  “I know,” she said, trying not to be sad.

  “You’re going to be fine. I know it down to my toes,” Luke assured her. “What kind of weather do you want?”

  “Rain,” she said instantly. “To soften the greens.”

  “Then I’ll wish for rain and you’ll get it.”

  “The scary thing is I almost believe you. What am I doing?”

  “Playing in a tournament.”

  “It’s going to be awful. I hacked the ball around for two days. Yesterday was only moderately better.”

  “You were finding your way and you were getting better each day. Besides, it doesn’t count until tomorrow.”

  Reilly was lying on her side looking into Luke’s eyes and doing everything she could to believe what he was telling her. They were both naked, the shirt rule having been discarded days ago in favor of skin on skin action. She was cuddled up against him with his erection still semi-hard after their lovemaking and tucked between her thighs.

  “What if I miss the tee shot?”

  Luke chuckled and she felt the rumble of his body in the short space between them.

  “Have you ever in your life missed a tee shot in competition?”

  Reilly scoured her memory but couldn’t remember ever having done something so inept. Hitting the ball was as automatic as breathing. Sometimes it didn’t go where she wanted it to, but she’d never missed it. Still, there was a first time for everything.

  “What if I flub it and it doesn’t even make it past the ladies’ tee? You know, there is an unwritten man rule about dropping pants and walking the fairway with your dick out.”

  “It’s not unwritten. I’m pretty sure a dick-out is in the official golf handbook, but it’s not something I think you need to be worried about. The American is televised.”

  “Stop smiling.”

  “Can’t help it. Now all I can imagine is you playing golf naked. It’s turning me on.”

  Reilly rubbed her thighs together gently rolling his hardening flesh between them. “I see that. For a man your age you really can turn it on when you want to.”

  “It’s all you, baby. You turn me on. You always have. And I’m a stud. A smart woman wouldn’t turn all this down.”

  Reilly smiled. His subtle hints over the last few days about where they were headed were getting less subtle by the minute.

  “You are a stud. What if we do decide to do this? What will all those women who thought they were going to be the future Ex-Mrs. Luke Nolan do?”

  “Expire from heartbreak. There’s nothing else they can do.” Luke laid his hand on top of hers pressing her closer to his skin. “You’re getting closer to seeing the light. I can tell. This is progress.”

  Reilly bit her lip against a swell of emotion that almost had her using the L word. Luke hadn’t said it, never once. Pride being what pride was, she felt she couldn’t use it, either. Not that she was the type to throw the word around anyway. Pop and Grams had instilled the idea that love was too important to be bandied about as nothing more than a casual word. It should be saved and used when it could be truly expressed because it was deeply felt.

  That she wanted to use it now might be scarier than the idea she was going to have to stand up in front of the world tomorrow and hit a golf shot.

  “What if I fail?”

  “You mean lose?”

  “I know I’m going to lose, I mean fail. I mean hack it up bad. Like eighty-two bad. And the crowds boo me and the LPGA shuns me. I end up with nothing but a heavy dose of humiliation. Are you still going to want to ‘try’ us?”

  Luke leaned up on his elbow and scowled at her. “Are you trying to piss me off?”

  Reilly rolled onto her back, pulling away from the contact of his body. An emotional weight settled on her chest but it was hard to know where it was coming from. The easiest way to alleviate it was to either have sex, or pick a fight with Luke. They’d already had sex.

  “I’m still trying to understand how all of this happened between us. If it was a result of me being in the American, what will happen to it when I’m out?”

  “You are trying to piss me off.”

  He rolled away from her and off the bed. Then walked over to the French doors overlooking the river.

  “You think I’m trying to glom onto your fifteen minutes of fame?”

  “I don’t know what to think.”

  Luke whirled around to face her and she could see he hadn’t been lying about being pissed off. She wished he wouldn’t look so sexy angry, it was sort of distracting when she was about to engage in a fight.

  “I told you why I came. I’m tired of playing around. It was time we ended this dance and if you had been ranked as the fifty-first player on the tour and none of this had happened, I still would have shown up at your door.”

  “You mean it?”

  “Why are you doubting me?” he asked. “What have I done to make you think I’m some kind of fly-by-night schmuck who’s looking to get laid for a while?”

  Luke winced as soon as the words were out of his mouth. “And don’t say it’s because we’ve only ever had one-night stands and I’ve been married three times to other women.”

  “Okay, but we’ve only had one-night stands before and you have married three other women.”

  “I gave you my reasons for why that happened.”

  Reilly got up and walked up behind him, resting her chin on his shoulder as she wrapped her arms around his waist.

  “I’m not doubting you’re sincere, Luke. I’m not. I guess I’m afraid that what you think you want now, and what you might want after all this is over, are two different things.”

  “What I want now and what I want when this is over is you. It’s very simple.”

  “To you!” she charged as she let him go. “You’ve been thinking about this a lot longer than I have. But now I’m starting to think about this and it’s scaring the crap out of me. What if after this is over I’m some woman who made a statement she couldn’t back up? What if this destroys everything for me? You might not want me then. Hell, I don’t even know who I’ll be then.”

  “You’ll be Reilly.”

  “I’m not Reilly if I’m not a golfer. The best golfer on tour. If I blow this tomorrow, I lose that. Even if I still can beat the women, everyon
e will know the ranking was nothing more than a sham.”

  “You think being a golfer is all that there is to you?”

  “Isn’t it?”

  Luke wrapped her back up in his embrace and kissed the top of her head.

  “I know where your head is, babe. I was there a few years ago when I realized what I had been working toward was something I'd actually achieved. Only as soon as I did, I didn’t know where it left me. I didn’t know where to go or what to do next. I figured out I had to spend time off the course.”

  “I can’t give up the game,” Reilly whispered.

  “That’s what worked for me. Doesn’t mean you’ll need to do the same. You do have to get it through your head that Reilly doesn’t equal golf. And golf isn’t the only thing that makes you Reilly. There’s more. Right here in this room, there’s more.”

  “You mean you.”

  “Hell, yeah I mean me. We’re something together. I don’t know what, but I want to find out. Phase one was about walking away. Phase two was letting go of the past. Finalize my last divorce and then phase three was to come after you. Although I don’t think I knew it until I saw the announcement. It was the trigger. Without it I still would have gotten around to you… eventually.”

  “I feel so flattered.”

  “You should,” he replied to her sarcasm. “Like I said, I’m a catch.”

  She laughed and let him hug her even harder deciding she loved the feel of him surrounding her. If this was what being with Luke meant, it might be worth a try. But she was scared.

  “Do you think I’m messed up?”

  “Not even a question.”

  “I mean, really… you know, because of my parents. Maybe I’m too scared to be with anyone because I’ve already lost so much.”

  “Maybe,” he said softly. “But I’m not anyone. Forget this. I don’t want to argue with you tonight. Let’s go back to bed and have some more sex.”

  “’Kay,” she agreed. “You promise to make me forget what’s going to happen tomorrow at least for a little while?”

  “For the next hour, anyway.”

  “You are ambitious.”

  “I told you I have skills. In the morning you’re going to wake up and it’s all still going to be there. I can’t change that, but I can give you some advice.”

  Luke took her hand and led her to the bed where he fell onto his back and helped her to straddle his hips. They had advanced well beyond the standard missionary position and in fact had created a few new ones.

  She teased him a bit and then let him slide inside her already aroused body.

  “You’re not going to give me some cheesy advice about visualizing everyone in the crowd naked.”

  “No, but that’s kind of hot, don’t you think?”

  “Kenny will be standing next to me,” she reminded him.

  “Oh, yeah, you don’t want to go there.”

  He pulled her hips over him and twisted a bit to penetrate her more completely, sighing with delight as he did.

  “No, I was just going to tell you when you’re standing there and everyone is holding their breath waiting for you and you think you’re going to explode with the tension, you have to remember… you’re a golf player. Go play golf.”

  Reilly fell over him, her hands on either side of his head, her hair creating a canopy around them. “That’s your advice. Go play.”

  “It’s good advice,” he insisted even as he reached up to play with her breasts. She slapped one hand away, but he cupped her with his other hand.

  “It sucks.” But she didn’t attempt to pull away from his very skilled hands.

  “I’m sorry, did you say sucks? Now there’s a cry for attention if I ever heard one.”

  He lifted his head off the bed and sucked her uncovered nipple into his mouth. In retaliation she ground her hips against his erection and the two of them moaned with delight.

  “Remind me to give you hell tomorrow,” Reilly told him. “For now I’ve got better uses for my mouth.”

  “Amen,” he whispered.

  That morning Reilly woke up and knew Luke’s words about it still being there were true. She turned her head toward the French doors and saw the rain falling softly outside. Just like he’d promised.

  She reached out to see if his side of the bed was still warm, but found it cold. He’d left much earlier as his tee time was one of the earliest of the day. Part of her was grateful for the few moments of quiet the empty bedroom gave her. She didn’t want to have to speak, or assure people she was fine when she wasn’t. There would be plenty of time for that later.

  Going through her routine, she did a shortened Pilates workout, showered and changed into her day-one, shell pink shirt and pants combination. Pulling the hair off her shoulders, she wrapped it into a tight ponytail and found the visor she’d planned to wear. It had been sent to her from a girl’s basketball team in Duluth via her agent. It, too, was pink and had stitched into the brim the name of Ginger Rogers along with words…She did it backward and in high heels.

  Staring at herself in the mirror, Reilly tried to find her internal balance with some deep breaths. After two minutes of watching her right eye twitch she figured she would find balance in the hour-long car trip from Savannah up to the course.

  Mark had already left for the tournament with Luke, but Pierce, Odie, and Kenny were waiting at the bottom of the stairs for her, their expressions almost as uncertain as she knew hers was.

  “I’m fine,” she said. “Not nervous at all. Let’s go.”

  Unusually quiet for the group they were, they got into the limousine and drove in near silence to the course. The limo pulled into the player’s parking lot and Reilly got out of the car with a camera in her face. She smiled, but said nothing, afraid she wouldn’t hear her voice over the extreme buzzing sound in her head.

  Kenny led her to the driving range for practice where she vaguely registered the feel of the driver he put in her hand. Below her she was able to make out the white balls that seemed impossibly far away.

  She swung and missed. She moved her arms in a backward motion to indicate to anyone watching she was still warming up.

  Walking up to her, Kenny leaned in close enough for privacy.

  “Did you just miss the ball?”

  “Don’t worry. I can’t imagine it’s going to happen again.”

  “It would help, I think, if you didn’t close your eyes before you swing.”

  Reilly tried to smile but couldn’t. Finally, she found the ball, but the first one was a slice, so was the next one, and the one after that. Reilly knew it was a result of pushing her hips but the more she tried to concentrate on correcting it, the farther right it went.

  “Okay, enough practice swings,” Kenny interjected.

  He had to tug the club out of her hand before she released it. Reilly looked at her brother and listened to her own shallow breaths and came to the immediate conclusion all of this was a bad dream.

  “I don’t want to play,” she whispered. “I’m going to W.D.”

  “You’re not going to withdraw. You’re going to take a deep breath and get a freakin’ grip!”

  Reilly blinked. “Are you yelling at me?” she asked incredulously. “Hello! The American! I can’t do it. I was crazy. I was insane. Do you know where we are? Have you seen Alleluia Corner? Jack’s Creek? It’s all here. I’m standing on golf’s altar and I’m not worthy.”

  Her tirade ended with a high-pitched squeak. “Yell at you? I’m going to slap you silly in a few seconds. It’s a tournament. You know what we do at tournaments, we kickass. Now your tee time is up. Go up there and do what you do and kick ass.”

  Reilly stared at the path that led to the tee box on the first hole. She walked forward robotically, not turning left or right. The chants and screams of people along with the boos and hisses from others blended into what sounded like a morbid funeral procession.

  She heard the announcer calling out the names of her two playing partners.
Then it was her turn.

  “And from Little Creek, Nebraska… Reilly Carr.”

  Again the crowd roared to life but the volunteers with the Quiet Paddles raised them in the air and all noise was squashed.

  Reilly could hear her heartbeat. She could trace the trickle of sweat as it fell past her hairline down her neck. She could taste the fear in her dry mouth and tried a few times to swallow.

  This was it.

  Remember you’re a golf player… and go play golf.

  A golf player. It’s what she was. Who she was.

  She stood over the ball, addressed it, swung and hit it with all the speed and strength she had in her body.

  Again the heavy crowd around the tee area surged back into life and it took her a while to understand they were happy with the shot. The ball sailed through the air high and fast and landed softly in the middle of the damp fairway.

  The fear was suddenly gone. The adrenaline pumping through her system seemed to regulate and for the first time since she woke up, she was able to take a full breath.

  Luke was right.

  She was a player. And it was time to play.

  28

  Thursday – Day One

  “Well, here we are, Dave, on the first day of this historic American event. Our coverage picks up with the favorites having already teed off. Roy Staddler has just made par on the opening hole and Sinjin Rye is currently at plus one through his first nine holes. Troy Delhome is the leader in the clubhouse at three under with a host of people bunched up behind him. One of the surprising rounds of the day was from returning champion, Luke Nolan.”

  “A seventy-nine out of Luke isn’t something he’s going to be pleased with, Steve. I’ve played with him for many years and I know how competitive he is.”

  Dave smiled as the camera focused on him. “But not playing competitively for so long had to leave him a little rusty. I wouldn’t be surprised if he shot lower tomorrow.”

  “Okay, let’s talk about what is making this American event particularly memorable. Reilly Carr.”