Page 70 of All Bets Are Off

“No.” I did a little dance, causing my skirt to flare up. It had a built-in bottom—like something you would find in a bathing suit—so I wasn’t worried about flashing my underwear. Given how uncoordinated I was, that was a good thing on the golf course. “It’s lesson time.” I wasn’t good at flirting but playing games with Zach over the last week had given me more confidence. “If you’re a good boy I’ll give you a different lesson when we get back.”

“What sort of lesson? And be specific.”

I burst out laughing. “Get your head out of the gutter.” I left him in the living room and went to my bedroom. When I returned, I had a pair of simple sneakers with me. I decided now was as good of a time as any to get to the nitty gritty on our latest endeavor. “Can I ask you something about this golf tournament?”

“Sure.” He dropped down to the floor and surprised me when he removed my golf cleats. Wait … are they cleats? Are they sneakers? Are they moccasins? I didn’t know.

“Why is it so important to your mother?”

He snagged my sneaker from me and tugged it on my foot. It was a weird situation—him on his knees between my legs—and memories of things we’d done in similar configurations made my cheeks flush.

It was as if he knew what I was thinking because he pressed his lips to the inside of my knee. “The offer still stands to stay here,” he said in a growly voice.

I gave him a significant look. “I don’t want to embarrass you at this tournament. We’re going for the lesson.”

The sigh he let loose was long and drawn out. “Baby, you’re not going to embarrass me. I am worried, however, that my family will embarrass me in front of you.”

“I’ve met your family,” I reminded him.

“Yeah, and they’re awful.”

“I happen to like your sisters.”

“They won’t be there.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s a couples tournament. You have to be engaged or married to secure an invite. It’s never been a concern before because … well … you know.”

I smirked. “No showgirls allowed on the golf course?”

“Not so much.”

Something occurred to me. “Is thisallcouples or just … um…” I couldn’t finish out the question because I was afraid of somehow sticking my foot into my mouth.

Zach was an intuitive guy, something I never really gave him credit for when we were growing up. He tied my second shoe, gave my calf a solid squeeze, and then stood with my golf shoes in his hand. “There are couples of many colors and types who participate in the event,” he assured me. “My mother isn’t racist, and she absolutely loves her gay couples. Like … well and truly. She thinks they give her street cred or something.”

I considered it. “I guess I can see that,” I said finally. I liked his mother better than his father, although that wasn’t saying much. “How come your mother never stood up for your sisters with your father?”

Zach clearly wasn’t expecting the question because he did a double take. “Wow, it’s weird out here in left field,” he drawled.

I laughed and shrugged. “I just mean … your sisters aren’t idiots. They’re smart. They’re good workers. Why does all the pressure get put on your shoulders?”

He pointed toward his crotch.

“Ah, the penis factor.” I bobbed my head. “I get that—I do—but I’m seriously confused how all of this works. Why can’t your father simply not be a jackass?”

“I’ve asked myself that question a million times. I’ve never come up with an acceptable answer.” He shoved my shoes in his golf bag. It didn’t look as if it was used all that often.

“Are you actually an acceptable teacher for this little endeavor?” I was honestly curious.

He laughed as if I’d asked the funniest thing in the world. “I can hold my own. I’m not great—Opal is the best golfer in the family—but my father can’t stand to lose, so it’s good that I’m worse than him.”

“It’s just so weird.”

He slung the bag over his shoulder and motioned toward the door. “It is definitely weird.”

We didn’t hold hands for the walk, although we did shoot one another mischievous smiles in the elevator. When we got to the main casino floor, my brother caught sight of us.

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