Page 70 of Maid in America

“You think so?” he murmured into her ear.

“I told you. I have a sixth sense about these things.” She shrugged. “But, I guess even Paul Reubens is better than aboo-bee.”

“Hey now,” he playfully warned.

“You were perfect forMan Maid.Even yourtattooswear costumes.”

“I’m feeling some real judgment about my ink right now.”

She snickered, and then her eyes met his. Barrett wanted to lean down and kiss her. For a moment, the world around them seemed to fade away.

“There are corruptible kids around, or I’d be kissing the hell out of you right now,” he mumbled against the side of her forehead.

“Same.”

She turned back toward the course as the second child finally swatted his ball into the hole.

“Thanks,” the man with the dad-bod said with a wave.

Barrett nodded and set his ball on the green.

“What about you?” Chastity asked.

“Ask me anything.”

“Withthis… withus… are you looking for, you know, like, just a hook-up or… somethingmore? I just wanna temper my expectations here.”

Thrown off by the question, Barrett hit the ball too hard. It bounced out of the boundary and whacked the children’s father in the ankle. The man whipped around and picked it up.

“Sorry!” Barrett croaked with an apologetic face, rushing over to retrieve the pink ball. “My bad.”

Chastity covered her mouth to hide her smile and pointed at Barrett. “Penalty stroke!”

Barrett waltzed back with wide eyes and put the ball back at the starting mark.

Finally, when she stopped laughing, she said, “So, tell me whatyouenjoy.”

He swung his putter again, driving his ball to the other side of the green and watching it roll lazily down into another sloped pit. “Well, at the moment,not-effing-putt-putt.”

“Nah, I picture you as more of a full-contact sports guy.”

“Nailed it. Football. It’s a thing of beauty sometimes, seeing drafted nobodies become all-time legends who want to turn each other into drooling quadriplegics. Nowthat’sa real man’s game. Beyond that, I love shaking my ass at the country bars. I enjoy working out and getting a good sweat going. Obviously, I prefersomeforms of exercise over others.” He turned his head toward Chastity and flashed a knowing grin.

“Favorite team?”

“Wyoming Cowboys, obviously for college. Probably the Bills for the NFL.”

“Wow, even into college ball, eh?”

“Ofcourse.” He tapped the ball in, scribbled on his scorecard, and gestured that it was her turn.

“Not bad.” She frowned, swinging her putter in a circle.

“I believe what you meant to say was, Barrett, your skill is astounding. You’re the master of mini-golf. Take me right here on the green and put your ball in my hole, you big stud-muffin.”

“Ewwwww.” Chastity snickered. “I would never call a grown man a ‘stud-muffin.’ Not even if I hated him.”

She tapped her gold ball with startling precision. Another hole-in-one. She gloated, and they moved on.

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