Page 128 of The Blind Date

“You knew about that and didn’t say anything?” I gaped, too stunned to be embarrassed right now.

“What can we say? We’re good actors,” Mum grinned, looking awfully proud of herself. “And just so it’s clear, we never planned to pull out of the golf finals. As if we’d ever let a petty argument get in the way of something so important. We’ve worked too hard to pull out now.”

“And we certainly wouldn’t let the Wheeler-Jones win by disqualifying ourselves,” Alfie added.

“I’m surprised you guys aren’t annoyed that we kept this a secret from you for so long,” Cedric said, and I squeezed his hand in alarm. Sure, our parents knew that we had been keeping our relationship a secret from them, but I’d rather they didn’t know just how long it had been going on.

“We were a little annoyed about it at first, but when we started thinking, it made sense,” Alfie explained, a knowing grin on his face as he stared at our entwined fingers.

“We were putting too much pressure on you,” Dad added. “We truly do understand that now.”

"By keeping your relationship private, you were able to see where things could go between you both," Alfie continued, but he was quickly cut off by the two very excited females who jumped to their feet and bound toward us for a big group hug.

"Oh, we're so happy you two are finally together!" Mum cheered as she hugged me tightly, all but squeezing the life out of me. "We knew you were perfect for each other from the very beginning."

"We're excellent matchmakers, don't you think?" Yasmin squeezed Cedric equally tightly before moving to do the same to me. "Oh, I'm so excited to have you as a daughter-in-law!"

“We’re not getting married, Mum,” Cedric sighed, giving my hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

"Not yet,” Mum said cheekily, but before we could correct them, they began herding us all out of the room. "Now come on. We wouldn't want to miss dinner now, would we? We've got a big day ahead of us tomorrow.”

Cillian laughed at us as he rose from my bed, putting his phone away.

"I don't know what you're laughing about," Yasmin snorted at her youngest son. "If you're still single at thirty, you'll be next."

ChapterThirty-Five

“Are they actually going to do it?” Cedric asked no one in particular, his eyes unblinking and his gaze unwavering as he avidly watched the game.

"I can't believe it. They're going to do it," Cillian muttered under his breath, not sounding quite as excited as his brother but also unable to take his eyes off the game.

"You two need to have more faith in them,” I said. Like the Barlowe brothers, I was just as engrossed in the game as they were. "Our parents may be crazy, but they make one hell of an amateur golf team.”

The Wheeler-Jones had already played their eighteen holes, and the Remington-Barlowes were on their last hole. It was a 7-par hole, and by far the hardest on the course. The entire course itself was 74-pars, and the Wheeler-Jones had an impressive average of 85-par. Our parents were already at an average of 76-par which meant they needed an average of 8-par between the four of them to win.

The pressure was on, and there was little to no room for mistakes, but I believed in them.

"I think Saffron is right," Cillian said. "They really do have a shot at winning this."

“We’ll never hear the end of this if they do win,” Cedric chuckled. Our fingers were entwined, and he gave my hand a gentle squeeze.

This was the first time we had been so open with our relationship in front of our family. We didn’t need to hide our relationship from anyone any more and were free to embrace each as we saw fit.

I couldn’t be happier about it, and I knew Cedric felt the same.

The three of us held our breath as Alfie stepped forward–the first to step forward and take a shot at the fancy, 7-par triple windmill course that every single member of the Wheeler-Jones had struggled with. He needed to hit the ball up the hill, through all three windmills, and then along a zig-zag path to the hole at the end with a little red flag sticking out of it.

To say that this was the hardest challenge of today would be an understatement.

"This is so much harder than all of the others," Cillian frowned, leaning forward to get a better look at his dad to shoot what could be the difference between the Remington-Barlowe's either winning or losing the entire golf tournament.

"I think he can do it," Cedric murmured. "He's been practising windmills for weeks now."

“Do you think he’ll be able to make it in seven shots?” I asked, feeling more nervous with each passing second.

“If anyone can do it, it’s Dad,” Cillian assured us. “But hopefully, he can do it in less. That’ll give the others some cushion in case they need it.”

Alfie swung his club back and hit the ball. I held my breath as it ran up the hill at full speed and easily made it through the first two windmills. It was off a tiny fraction for the third hole, but he corrected it easily on the next shot. In the end, Alfie only needed an impressive 6 hits to finish the 7-par hole.

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