“That’s right. She bullied me into it.”
Josephine leaned forward to speak into the microphone. “That’s a lie, your honor.”
More laughter, louder this time, echoed in the dim tent.
Wells bent over, nudging her aside to amplify his own voice. “Meet Josephine Doyle, folks. She’s meaner than she looks.”
“Only when you claim the wind speed is irrelevant.”
“That’s when you get run over by a golf cart to make a point, if I recall.”
Josephine smiled broadly. “It was a welcome reprieve from you, Wells.”
No one was holding back on the laughter at this point.
“Thanks for keeping me humble, Josephine.”
She smiled up at him, surprised to find his usual stone-faced countenance held a glimmer of . . . affection. Her heart pounded in response. “Anytime,” she said, breathily.
The media stared at them in silence for several seconds.
And then everyone started shouting questions at once.
*
Wells and Josephine didn’t get much of a chance to speak during their late lunch.
Or on the trip through the lobby toward the elevators.
People kept stopping them for pictures and autographs.
Now, she stumbled back against the elevator wall after punching the button for her floor and stared straight ahead, shell-shocked. “What was that?”
“I don’t know,” Wells muttered, looking at his phone. “But my ex-manager called me three times in the last hour and he doesn’t get out of bed unless someone offers him a boatload of money.”
“Are you going to call him back?”
“Eventually.” A muscle moved in his cheek. “I need to talk to you first.”
The doors of the elevator opened on Josephine’s floor and they stepped off, moving side by side down the hallway toward her room. And it was really saying something that she could feel the electric pulse of anticipation when she needed to shower and change this badly. Was he going to come into her room again? How could she miss the scrape of his jaw on her cheeks so badly when she’d experienced it only once? “What do you need to talk to me about?”
“Safety.” He whipped off his ballcap and raked five fingers through his hair, throwing a glance back toward the elevators. “When I said I wanted everyone to know how important you are, I didn’t think ahead far enough. If you could just stay put in this room unless I’m with you, belle . . .” He patted the air with both hands. “My stress level would appreciate it.”
“Wells, come on.” She rolled her eyes. “They’re just asking for my autograph because I happened to be there. They were just being nice.”
“Golf fans are mean as sin, Josephine. I once had a child in a Callaway hat give me the finger. And he was with his grandma. Who told me to shove a club up my ass.”
She slapped a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing.
“It’s not funny. I’m asking you nicely—since nice shit is apparently so important to you—to please not go traipsing around the resort before sunrise anymore. Call me and I will come get you. Please.”
“Wow. I don’t know if traipsing is the right word . . .”
“Josephine.” Wells advanced on her, hesitating with a curse when their bodies were a breath apart. But then he pushed forward the remaining distance, flattening her against the door, making both of them exhale shakily, their bodies shifting together. Closer. “Let me be careful with you, belle. Let me worry without asking a bunch of questions, okay?”
“You hate questions,” she whispered.
“Yeah. But I really, really don’t hate you.” Eyes closed, he rolled his forehead against hers. “Deal with it.”
Why was it that this man saying he didn’t hate her was the equivalent of another man promising to build her a kingdom? “When you retire from golf, you could consider poetry.”
He made a frustrated sound, kissing her hard as he slapped both of his hands down on the door above her head. “If you make me wait one more second to hear your agreement to be careful, Josephine, I swear to God.”
“I don’t know,” she said, her breath beginning to shallow, need causing her thoughts to run together in one high-pitched, continuous note. “It’s kind of fun making you wait.”
Going still, he searched her eyes, and laughed low under his breath at what he saw.
Challenge. Excitement.
Wells looked up and down the hallway. Clearly checking for other guests.