Page 45 of Love Her

Chapter 20

Felicity

He thinks I’ll be easily distracted by his rock hard abs. It’s the only reason I can think that he’d be stretching his arms over his head again before each of my shots. Well, jokes on him. When I’m in the zone, I’m in the zone. Not even a hot guy like Connor will distract me from winning.

Unfortunately for me, he’s just as competitive and, while I’ve faltered a few times with my own distractions, the last four holes have been his bitch and we’re neck and neck.

“This is it. Final hole. Can she do it? Will she take the victory?”

“Your commentator voice needs work.”

“Oh come on, darlin’ you know you like it.”

What I like is when he says things like “darlin’” and “baby.” Damn. He says he’s from the Midwest, but the man can turn on a drawl in a nano second. Right now, though, I need him to shut his pie hole and let me make this shot. The damn windmill is my least favorite, but I know I can hit this. Two strokes and we tie. Hole in one and I win.

I line up next to the ball, shifting the weight from foot to foot, setting my stance. Thankfully I opted for a pair of flat ankle booties and not a heel or I might just tip over. Adjusting my grip, I pull back on the club and wait, counting the rotations of the windmill. Three, two, one. I tap the ball with enough power it will fly though the obstacle but hopefully not too much that it’ll miss the hole.

“Dammit.”

Giggling, I do a little victory dance while Connor groans in frustration. I skip over to him and without thinking about it, launch myself into his arms. He spins me around and we both laugh, making a spectacle of ourselves but I don’t care. My club dangles in my hand down his back as he kisses me. It is a perfectly respectable kiss for public but regardless of its simplicity, it sends a wave of heat through my body. Slowly, he lets me go, my body sliding down the front of his. Holding my face in his hands, he searches my eyes; what he’s looking for I don’t know but I hope I have the answer. I’ve never been looked at with such adoration.

“I know you have to get home but—”

“I don’t. I mean. I texted my mom earlier and she and Dad have the entire night planned out for the kids. As long as I call them and say good night, it’ll be fine.”

What am I doing? I’ve not missed a bedtime since the divorce. Even the last two years before Michael presented me with the papers, I was home as many nights as possible. I lost so much time with Clem, but it was when she went to our nanny, Mrs. Honeycutt, instead of me for comfort that I knew I needed to make a change. Michael said my refusal to socialize with him was the biggest issue in our marriage. I’d say it was his narcissistic, controlling nature, and his refusal to accept responsibility for being an asshole.

“What if we go back to my place to hang out? We can order a pizza. Maybe watch a movie. I mean if you want. No pressure. I just thought . . .”

I love seeing this side of Connor. He’s always a flirt and confident, but standing here with families and young couples milling around us he’s clearly nervous and rambling.

“Sounds good. I’m going to use the restroom before we get on the road. Will you turn in my winning club?” I ask, extending my hand with a smirk on my face.

“I’ve created a monster, haven’t I?”

“Nah, it’s just been a long time since anyone has been willing to go up against me.”

Turning on my heel, I walk toward the main building and the restrooms. Handling my business quickly, I stand at the sink and wash my hands. Looking into the mirror, I’m shocked at what greets me. Happiness. Pure and unfiltered happiness. Today has been nothing short of perfect. I enjoy being with Connor. He makes me laugh and I feel lighter in his presence. Sure, there’s still a little pang of guilt for not being with my children, but I know it’s equally important for them to have this time with their grandparents.

Drying my hands, I pull my phone from my crossbody and exit while the line connects.

“Mom! Pop took me to the batting cages. It was so cool. The ball was so fast. It was like vroom right past my head. You missed it. Where are you? On a date? Grammy said you were going somewhere with a friend. Is it like Kyle’s mom? Did you put lots of makeup on?”

The rapid fire questions are a little overwhelming and I step to the side of anyone’s way and search the room for Connor. The club return is on the far side of the room, so I know he’s around here somewhere. I spot him at the same time he sees me and the look he gives me takes my breath away. I’m in so much trouble.

“Mom! Helllooooo??? Grammy, I think she hung up.”

“I’m here. Jacob, how much sugar did you have today? You’re very hyper.”

“No, I’m not. Are you coming home?”

A pang of guilt settles low in my belly. “I was actually calling to talk to Grammy about that. Can you put her on the phone?”

“Sure. Love you!”

As usual, my son is off and running, handing the phone off to my mom. Connor approaches and stands a few feet away, hands in his pockets.

“Hi, honey.”

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