Page 60 of The Wrong Boss

Petty? Yes.

Fun? Absolutely.

And when I sat down next to him and felt his gaze sweep over my side and down to my legs, it hadn’t just been competitiveness that had coursed through my veins.

The rest of the round was all over the place, with none of the four of us being particularly skilled at the game. Cole was a terrible putter, which gave me immense joy. I loved the way he gritted his teeth when he missed a shot, and how his fists clenched when I sank one.

And that time he shot the ball right in the middle of the lake with a fountain spraying water in a gigantic arc?

Well. Let’s just say he didn’t appreciate me doubling over to laugh about it.

And that smoldering, dangerous look he’d shot me when I’d wiped my eyes and marked another point for me on our unofficial scorecard for our wager might have gotten me a little hotter than the late afternoon sun soaking through the fabric of my top.

But I ignored that. Any attraction I felt was simply out of place, and it would pass. It had to.

Even though he looked good when he lined up for a shot. And I sometimes stole an extra glance at the way his handsgripped the cart’s steering wheel, all tendons and knuckles and rough skin.

After this retreat, I’d tell him about Evie. The spelling bee would be over, and I wouldn’t risk throwing Evie off with this big revelation. The time would be right. I’d waited long enough.

Once Cole knew about my—our—daughter, everything would change, so there was no use in indulging pointless fantasies. The long-dormant embers that had first flared to bring us together were throwing out the last gasp of heat they possessed. Whatever lust I felt was a dying, desperate thing. That was all. It would be over soon.

“Well, I have to say, Carrie, I’m impressed,” Chuck said as we pulled up in front of the clubhouse.

I wiped the sweat from my brow below my visor and flashed him a smile. “That was fun.”

“We trounced you,” Ted pointed out. And of course they had—I wasn’t stupid enough to try to win a game of golf against the chairman and vice chairman of the board. I’d learnedthatlesson with Mr. Wentworth too.

“You did,” I admitted. “But I won the unofficial competition Cole and I had against each other.” I waved my scorecard for emphasis, smiling.

“Keep gloating,” Cole warned, but his lips tugged into one of those rare, delighted smiles that sometimes flashed over his face. He went from brooding and magnetic to utterly irresistible.

But resisting was imperative. I shrugged, nonchalant, like his smiles had no effect on me. “I intend to gloat until at least Q1next year.”

Chuck guffawed. “I like her,” he said, pointing at me. “Keep her around, son.”

I smiled, even though something inside me died at those words. He wouldn’t keep me around. Our days were numbered—they had to be.

Knowing that was my cue to exit, I smiled and made my excuses, grabbed my purse, and walked toward the main resort building. The sound of jogging footsteps behind me alerted me to my boss’s approach.

“You could have warned me you were a shark,” he said, slowing to walk beside me.

I shot him a glance. “You could have been less condescending.”

He tilted his head in acquiescence.

“Your dad seems nice,” I said, when the silence stretched a bit too long. “I’m glad you ended up reconnecting with him.” I added hastily, “Not that that’s any of my business?—”

“No, it is,” Cole said. “After our…conversation”—he cleared his throat—“I worked up the guts to reach out to him. You gave me the push I needed to do it.”

I felt his gaze on the side of my face, and every speck of self-preservation inside me forced me to keep my eyes forward. “Now you’re just flattering me.”

He snorted. “I don’t flatter people for no reason, Carrie.”

I loved the way he said my name. I wished I didn’t, because it made me remember how it felt to be in his arms. It made me yearn for the feel of his palms sweeping down my sides, for that intense, bright, burning connection we’d shared so long ago for so short a time.

The past seven years had been lonely. I’d been treading water, trying to keep Evie and myself afloat with nothing but sheer will. Those years had calcified my determination and my independence, had given me the gift of a wonderful daughter.

But I’d been alone.

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