Page 158 of Well Played

Mitch cussed out the offending golfers under his breath, watching with narrowed eyes as they apologized to Lana and belatedly to him about the stray ball.

Lana dismissed their apologies with a polite nod and retrieved her dropped wedge. When she straightened, she started to walk backwards with a twinkle in her eyes and a fingerpointed at him. “One thing,” she said, reminding him of what was at stake.

Mitch felt his lips stretch his face in a wide smile. He was going to lose their bet, and he couldn’t wait to learn his forfeit.

3

HOLE-IN-ONE

Lana

With an eyeon the clock on her bedside table, Lana knotted the ends of a red cashmere scarf loosely in front of her chest and turned it to the side so the soft fabric draped over her bare left shoulder. Six fifty-three. Seven minutes to finish primping. She walked to the spa-like bathroom, gathering her long hair to fall in a wavy cascade over her right side. The reflected flash of the small diamond solitaire stud earring in the mirror brought out a wide grin. Hand on hip, she struck a pageant pose. “Looking good, Lana-Banana.” Valentine’s date-worthy for sure.

Applying a cherry-flavored lip gloss, she congratulated herself on having the forethought to pack a little black dress for this trip, a floor-length maxi-style in an uncrushable bamboo viscose fabric. When she’d booked way back in June, she’d had no plan to go out on a date, but she’d long ago learned that being prepared for any eventualities—positive or adverse—always worked for her.

That and being flexible enough to go with the flow when things didn’t go according to plan. Like the frost that hadcanceled all play today, including her scheduled round at Kingsbarns Course.

Lana pushed out her lips in a pout as she walked out of the bathroom. She hadn’t seen Mitch at all to claim her win after her par-par-eagle finish. Not since she’d finished her round at the Old Course a little after ten in the morning yesterday. They hadn’t been able to have lunch together because he had another caddying job scheduled after her. He’d only had time to carry her bag back to the hotel.

Not dinner either because he had to stay with his mother, who was still recovering from her fainting spell in the morning. A heart ailment, apparently. While her parents had never been ill to Lana’s knowledge, she could sympathize when her friends’ mothers or fathers got sick. Especially a single parent like Mitch’s mom. Or mum, as he pronounced it.

“Friends.” Lana said the word aloud, stepping into a bejeweled pair of black ballet flats she’d left by the door of her hotel bedroom. She nodded. Yes, she and Mitch were now friends, despite their short acquaintance. Smiling, she corrected herself—Almost-Kissing-Friends. That intense moment after her hole-out eagle from the 15thfairway kept replaying in her mind many hours later. While she walked on the chilly beach, after every other chapter of the e-book she’d been reading, before she fell asleep last night, and during her visit to tourist spots today with Mac as her guide.

The burly Scot was a knowledgeable and jolly companion, but Lana still wished Mitch had gone with her. He’d had to drive his mother to Edinburgh to convalesce at her sister’s house where she could be looked after properly.

Lana could understand and admire Mitch’s priorities. Family first. A value she shared, and that raised her estimation of him.

Three knocks on the door had her heart racing.Mitch is here!

She skipped to the entryway, eager to see how he’d complied with her instructions.

Her gasp at the sight of him echoed in the empty hallway.

His right hand braced against the door, Mitch stood in full Scottish kilt attire. A blue shirt with a plain red tie peeped under a black jacket. His tartan—a plaid pattern of forest green, navy blue, scarlet red, black, and white—fell to his knees. Long black socks with decorative pieces made from the same tartan and black shoes completed the outfit. Not full, she corrected herself. No sporran. It didn’t matter. Mitch looked gorgeous. Movie-star handsome.

“You look like Jamie Fraser,” she blurted.

Mitch laughed. He offered her the bouquet he held in his left hand, the flowers a riot of colors from yellow to pink to purple.

Lana accepted, inhaling the fragrant scent of perennials and early spring blooms. If asked, she wouldn’t be able to name the varieties. No rose in sight. How unique. She liked it.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, mo nighean donn,” he said. My brown-haired lass. Jamie’s nickname for his love interest, Claire, in the show.

Lana smiled her thanks. Combing a hand through her loose tresses, she quipped, “My hair is black.” She stepped back to let him in.

Mitch lifted the picnic hamper she hadn’t noticed was sitting by his feet and entered her hotel suite. “My kilt is not gray and brown. Which is not the correct Fraser tartan, by the way,” he countered.

“Touché.” She pointed to the coffee table in front of the fireplace to indicate where to unpack the basket of what she guessed would be their dinner. It wasn’t part of her “one thing” winnings, but he’d told her he would bring a St Andrews sampler for them to share on their Valentine date. How thoughtful.

She joined him to help, reading the descriptions as she pulled each item out of the hamper. Everything was made locally in Fife, with only an item or two from Edinburgh. In two minutes their dinner was spread out. A package of oatcakes, two kinds of cheese, a jar of honey and another of chutney, shortbread, a bottle of fruit and herb vinegar, a box of smoked salmon, two bottles of apple juice, a miniature bottle of single malt whisky, two hot foil-wrapped packages, napkins, small plates, cups, and silverware covered the entire square glass table. A veritable Scottish feast.

Lana lowered herself onto the left half of the loveseat. It pleased her when Mitch sat beside her instead of in the chair across the table, his kilt uncovering several inches of muscular thighs. To stop herself from wondering what he wore under the traditional garment, she said, “Thanks for bringing all of this.”

“You’re welcome. I thought you’d appreciate a sampling of our local delicacies.”

“I’m excited to try everything. What’s in the foil?”

He unwrapped one and then the other to reveal the contents. “Scotch pie.”

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