“Who else was there?”
He laughed without humor. “You never see any proud parents standing on the sidelines cheering me on, do you? No, because I was nothing but a delinquent growing up. They couldn’t wait to get work on a cruise ship and sail away. I don’t blame them for it, either.” He paused to drag in a breath. “Maybe I don’t have the right . . . tools to handle success, you know? Maybe I have this skill—and that’s it. None of the character that makes me deserve it. Nothing . . . else.”
At first, he was simply trying to distract himself from inappropriate fantasies about Josephine’s mouth, but he was shocked to find a knot inside him loosening as his confession wore on. A knot he’d been completely unaware of.
“Wow,” she whispered, staring straight ahead. “That’s a lot to unpack. I thought you were just going to tell me to shut up.”
He narrowed his eyes at her.
“That’s not to say I’m unhappy that you told me,” she rushed to add, reaching over to squeeze his elbow. Regarding him in silence for a beat. “Wells, don’t you realize? You did a lot with your chance. Getting a tour card in itself takes a miracle. It’s not always about the next thing you do. Sometimes it’s about what you’ve already done.”
His chest knit together and pulled, compromising his vocal cords. “Garbage.”
“It’s not garbage. And that whole thing about having parents on the sidelines . . .” She shook her head. “I have that in my life. So, I can’t really see things from your perspective. But I know for a fact that character doesn’t come from one single place. Success is more complex than that, and we’re in control of it. Do you think I was your number one fan solely because of your golf game?”
That drew his attention sharply. Mainly because of the way she’d phrased the sentence. Was your number one fan. Was. “Weren’t you?”
She grinned over piquing his interest, a dimple popping up in her cheek, as if he didn’t already have enough to deal with. “The first time I saw you play was at a charity invitational. Down in Orlando for the children’s hospital. You acted like a big grumpy bear the whole time. But you . . .” She trailed off, as if needing a moment to compose herself. “I saw you give your whole bag of clubs to one of the kids in the parking lot. After all the cameras had gone home and no one was watching.” She dropped her voice. “I caught you displaying more than enough character.”
Wells remembered the kid’s smile like he’d seen it yesterday. “Must have been another golfer. That never happened.”
“Yes, it did. That’s why I started coming to watch you.” She nudged him with her shoulder. “Everyone drifts from their path once in a while. But your path is still there waiting. It’s a perfectly good one.”
This woman was like one of those farm tools that churned up the hardened earth, turning over soil that just wanted to be left alone. Or thought it did.
“Should I expect one of these unbearable pep talks every morning, Josephine?”
“Only if I’m feeling generous.” She paused, fiddling with her ponytail again. “What did Buck want to speak to you about last night?”
“You mean, while you were off charming the masses.”
“Why, yes.”
Wells cursed. “He told me to play nice with the press. It’s one of the conditions for letting me back on the tour.”
A giggle bubbled out of her, turning into a full-fledged laugh.
“It’s not funny, belle,” he muttered. “I’d rather hammer a rusty nail into my forehead.”
She sobered. Sort of. “Do you even know how to play nice with the press?”
“You already know the answer to that.”
“Forget golf, we should practice smiling.”
He stabbed a finger into the air. “I am not smiling. I’m here to play golf, not become the next spokesman for Mercedes.”
“Oh, I think we can mark ourselves safe from that hellish possibility,” she murmured, before clapping her hands together. “Are you up for a quick challenge?”
“Did you forget why we’re here?”
“Not golf. Not exactly. Something else.” She gripped his wrist and tugged him into the lifting fog, toward the green of the first hole. Why he was allowing this freakishly positive woman to drag him around, he had no idea, except that he didn’t want to be anywhere else and he was reluctantly enjoying himself. So confusing. “Okay,” Josephine said, positioning him approximately ten yards from the hole. “Take out your phone and close your eyes.”