“Thanks,” Wells said slowly, narrowing his eyes to examine his girlfriend for evidence.
“Joey, how is your swing? You been keeping in stroke?”
Now that got Wells’s attention.
He nearly got whiplash looking at Jim so fast. Then back to his girlfriend.
“Jesus Christ, Josephine,” Wells started, hot irritation licking at his skin—but only irritation at himself. “I’ve never seen you hit a golf ball.”
Jim’s spoon clattered onto his coffee saucer.
A horrified and much deserved silence passed over the table.
“Never?”
“No,” Wells said miserably. How was that even possible?
Josephine was laughing at him. “Calm down. We’ll get to it.”
“No, I don’t think you understand, this needs to happen today.”
“Rolling Greens still hasn’t opened its doors after the hurricane. And we don’t even have a tee time anywhere else,” his girlfriend sputtered. “Halfway through a day this beautiful? There aren’t going to be any spots left.”
Wells gave her a look that said oh come on. “My name has some pull, Josephine.”
“So does yours, by now, Joey-Roo.”
Joey-Roo, mouthed Wells with a smug wink.
Josephine kicked him under the table while taking a giant bite of her cupcake.
I’m going to marry this woman.
Done fucking deal. Someone direct him to the nearest ring shop.
“Call Lone Pine and see if they can slide you in, Joey. While you wait for your tee time to roll around, you can show Wells the progress on the Golden Tee.” Jim clasped his hands, wringing them eagerly. “You won’t believe how far the shop has come in just a week. Joey cleaned it up real nice, got it all set for construction to begin.” He turned his broad smile on his daughter. “Did you talk to the contractor yet, honey?”
She stopped chewing. Swallowed thickly. “Yes.”
“When?” Evelyn asked.
Wells watched her closely when she didn’t answer right away. “This morning, actually,” she finally said, sending a jolt of surprise to his gut. “I gave him the all-clear to begin working.”
Jim could barely sit still in his seat. “Putting green, drive-through window, and everything?”
Josephine nodded. “That’s right. We even discussed the idea of a consultation lounge where guests can look at drone footage of the holes and get advice on their strategy. I told him . . . to go for it.” Her laughter was light. “All the bells and whistles.”
The more Wells heard about the project, the more he started to relax. This kind of effort would take months, at least. He wouldn’t have to give up having Josephine as his caddie any time soon. Right? “What is the timeline?” he asked.
When she took a sip of water instead of answering him right away, his palms started to turn clammy. “Two to three weeks,” she said, searching his eyes. “The hurricane created such a need for rebuilding that they doubled the size of their crew. That should get us through the Masters, at the very least.”
He couldn’t be expected to speak when his throat was completely dry. “Yeah,” he managed. Two to three weeks? “The Masters.”
Something extremely worrisome was occurring to Wells.
A doubt that had been loitering in the back of his mind but with this revelation was making its way to the forefront, where it could no longer be ignored.
Could he even compete without Josephine?
When she left, who was going to talk him down off the ledge when he wanted to give up? Who was going to drop wisdom on him at the exact moment he needed it, in the perfect dose? No one, that’s who. There was no one else who had Josephine’s magic.
No one in the world.
When she left, where would that leave him? Sinking back down the leaderboard?
Would she want to maintain a relationship with someone who spent four out of every seven days on the road? Maybe she’d meet someone local. Another golfer, probably, since she worked at a pro shop. And this guy would be nice!
Dear God, he needed a distraction. Anything to keep him from begging this woman to stay with him on the tour, like a selfish prick, instead of realizing her own dreams. Thankfully, the waitress chose that moment to drop the bill in the center of the table and sail away.
Wells stood, ripping his wallet out of his back pocket, credit cards spilling out. “Let’s go see that golf swing, belle. The fact that I haven’t yet is bullshit.”
“Ooh!” Evelyn patted her hair. “Now that’s some language.”