Page 67 of Perfect Praise

“Yeah, I like that,” he says, sliding the club out of the bag and handing it to me. I take a few practice swings. “Feel it.”

“I’m thinking I aim for the camera there,” I say, holding my club out toward the cameraman I can see in the distance. “Try and cut back right just a bit.”

“Love it.” Conrad’s face is buried in his little book before he looks up. “Yep. I’m good with it if you’re good with it. Love it.”

I set my feet, take two practice swings, and then step forward. The club vibrates perfectly in my hands when it hits the ball, and I know before I look up that it’s an amazing shot.

The crowd claps, a man whoops, and I do my best to shut it out after I give a small wave. Transforming into the nice, genuine, grateful golfer for two seconds.

As Conrad gathers my golf bag and starts to walk down the fairway to the green, I hang back.

Maren watches me take off my glove while she approaches with Landon, and I don’t miss how something so seemingly simple turns her on when she has a hard time tearing her eyes off the motion.

“Nice shot,” she says brightly. “I got a good photo of it.”

One hardened glance at Landon and he takes the hint. His head dips to acknowledge that he’s bowing out.

She gapes as he walks away. “Did you just have an unspoken man conversation?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, cocking my head to the side.

Maren scoffs amusingly and walks beside me. “Yeah, okay.”

Running a hand across her lower back, I graze the top of her ass just enough to feel the curve under my fingers as I say, “But yes, I’d prefer if he didn’t stare at your ass.”

Her eyes glint when she looks up at me, and she bites her tongue playfully. “Someone’s a little jealous, but don’t worry—my ass is yours at the present moment.”

“Someone’s a little confident,” I tease. “I like it.”

She laughs. “Do you think I won’t be as attractive to you when I’m confident? Like a girl who’s only hot because she doesn’t realize it. And then when she does realize it, all the magic is gone. That’s when you’ll get tired of me.”

“No,” I say, dropping my voice. “It only makes me want you more. Because onlyIknow how much you like to spread those pretty legs for me.”

I step in front of her and continue walking backward. She sucks in the smallest breath, bites her bottom lip, as my eyes dip down from her waist to her calves.

“Locke, don’t turn me on right now.”

I hum disappointedly, letting my eyes linger between her legs and getting hard picturing her sitting on my face. “I like you in yellow.”Then I change the subject. “So, I was thinking... even though you don’t like it, you did say you wanted to learn. I’m going to teach you how to play golf.”

“This is a worseidea than all of mine combined,” I argue when I whiff the golf ball for what feels like the hundredth time. “How do you make this shit look so effortless?”

My hands ache, and we’ve only been at this for thirty minutes since day one of the tournament ended.

When I lean my club against my legs to stretch them, Locke takes a few steps closer and gathers my hands in his before he starts massaging his thumbs into my palms and down my fingers. My bones creak.

I try not to make a big deal about it so I don’t spook him, but his rough hands feel warm and massive in a good way.

“Some people say golf is the hardest sport,” he chuckles, pressing into the pad of my thumb. “You’re doing well for your first time. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“What about hockey though?” I tease. “You think you could cut it on skates?”

“Maren, we live in Florida.” Locke smiles with a playful look in his eyes. “But I have played before.”

I almost let out a satisfied moan when he works his thumb along the outer edge of my palm, but I manage to only roll my eyes. “Let me guess, you’re amazing?”

He laughs—a deep sound, one that crinkles his eyes. “Hell no. I couldn’t stand for shit the first day I tried.”

“I’d pay money to see that.”

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