Page 25 of The Perfect Putt

“I’m glad you’re here, man,” I say to Shaw before tipping my beer back.

We came down to the beach behind my house as the sun started to set. Sutton has been walking the beach looking for shells and sipping on a margarita. Meanwhile, Shaw and I are staring out at the sunset while drinking a couple of beers. Let me rephrase that. I’m watching the sunset. Shaw is watching Sutton. The man is unashamed in his obsession. It’s like he’s worried if he takes his eyes off her for even a second, she’ll disappear.

“I’m happy to be here. Feels good to have a little vacation after such a grueling season.”

I nod in agreement. Shaw’s team just won the Stanley Cup, but they didn’t get there easily. Shaw himself pushed through two different injuries on top of the normal work that it takes to win a championship.

“Do you think this next season will be harder or easier coming off a big win?” I ask him.

He takes a swig of his beer. “Who knows? We had two guys retire, but we’ve got good recruits too. It’s all a matter of making sure everyone stays focused,” he says, as his eyes follow Sutton down the shoreline.

“And will you have a problem staying focused?” I ask with a laugh.

He smiles behind his beer. “I am focused. She’s what matters most.”

I shoot him an incredulous look. “What about winning?”

He shakes his head. “Life is more than a game, Miles. I won’t be a hockey player forever, but I will be her husband. I’m investing in what matters most.”

I stay quiet for a moment. I don’t want to upset him by reminding him that many marriages end in divorce. His own parents aren’t together anymore. You’d think he’d know better than to give up his dream for a girl.

“So you don’t care if you lose, so long as you have Sutton. Do your teammates support this mentality?” I ask. He looks over at me, his gaze harder than I expected. Maybe I pushed him more than I thought.

“Sutton makes me better,” he says with conviction. “When I play, I don’t play to win, I play for her. I play better because my name is on her back. Because soon enough my name will be hers. I won the Cup last season with that mentality, and I plan on doing the same thing this season.”

He sets his beer down in the cupholder, then stands up. His arms raise above his head in a stretch. When his arms fall, he gives me a sympathetic smile.

“You don’t get it,” he continues. “And that’s okay. Hopefully you will someday. Maybe sooner rather than later if my prediction about Ellie is right.”

My muscles tense at the mention of Ellie. “Shaw, I’m serious, don’t bother her while you’re here. She’s my assistant. I’d rather she not quit because of whatever delusional idea you have bouncing around your thick skull.”

“Someone is sounding defensive again,” he sings. Yes, sings.

I run a hand over my face. “I just don’t want to have to find a new assistant before the Open.”

“I believe you,” he says and I look up at him.

“You do?”

“No, not at all, but I’m okay with this conversation ending. Because my gorgeous future wife is down by the water and probably just tipsy enough that if I play my cards right, I might convince her to make out with me even though you’re here.”

I scrunch my face up in disgust. “I’m going back inside.”

He grins. “Even better.”

I shake my head, trying not to laugh. He jogs down the beach and I watch as he picks Sutton up from behind. The bag of shells she was collecting drops into the sand, but she manages to hold on to her cup. She squeals as he takes a few steps into the water, kicking her feet. He sets her down and she spins in his arms. When their foreheads touch, I look away. Yeah, it’s time for me to head back up to the house.

I pick up the cooler with our drinks in it, but leave the chairs. Sutton mentioned wanting to watch the sunrise in the morning, so there’s no sense in bringing them back up. Once I’ve got my stuff together, I spare one more glance at Shaw and Sutton. They’re facing the water, Shaw’s got his arms wrapped around Sutton from behind. Everything about him looks relaxed and at peace. A dull pain throbs beneath my sternum at the sight. I rub at it with the hand that’s not holding the cooler.

What would it be like, I wonder, to have that kind of peace? I shake off the odd feeling and turn toward my house. The lights glow through the windows, illuminating the inside. The effect usually makes my home look warm and inviting, but tonight it just serves to show how empty it is. I stifle a sigh and trudge through the sand until I reach the boardwalk. I’ve never felt this way before, at least not this strongly. It’s all Shaw’s fault. He’s bouncing around like a puppy who just got adopted, making it seem like Sutton is the reason he won the championship. That doesn’t even make any sense. Shaw’s been working his entire life to win the Stanley Cup. Having Sutton around didn’t suddenly make him a better hockey player. Is he lying, or is he so delusional as to actually believe what he said?

I rake a hand through my hair in frustration. He’s in my head, which was no doubt his plan all along. I knew I shouldn’t have let them come. Seeing their relationship develop from afar is one thing, but being subject to it up close is another. Not to mention this agenda they both seem to have to push me and Ellie together. Whatever scheme they’re devising won’t work though. We might be on the verge of friendship, but that’s all Ellie and I will ever be. Friends who work together.

My jaw clenches in determination. I won’t fall victim to whatever lovesickness Shaw has going on. I’ve seen what that so-called love does to people, and I’m not a fan. My parents fought constantly while married, and still do now that they’re apart. I’m sure at one point in time they loved each other too. I can’t recall a moment in which they showed that love, but maybe they had it before I was born. Whatever the case may be, that love got thrown in the trash early on in my life. And I have no plans of dumpster diving to claim it for myself.

Chapter fifteen

Ellie Hart

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