Page 17 of 5 Golden Flings

It was well after dark when Molly pulled into the well-lit resort. Shoot, there weren’t many parking spaces available. Most were at the edge of the lot. In hopes of not carrying her bags that far she drove down one row and then another, looking for an open spot.

Her sandwich and cookie were long gone and her half-ornament sat in the glove compartment, still in its box. She might just toss the thing. What good was half an ornament? The idea of throwing it away made her stomach knot, and she wasn’t sure why.

That half-heart still reminded her ofsomething.

Ah, there it was! The last decent parking spot, at the end of the row. She headed in that direction with the same sense of relief she’d had when she’d walked into the gas station restroom and discovered that it was actuallyclean. A couple of things had gone her way on this long trip.

Out of nowhere, a red sports car approached the open spot from the other end of the row. Molly sped up a bit, but she was too late. The sporty car zipped into her space, easy as you please. She uttered a few choice words for the car, and then for the man who stepped out of it.

The jerk was tall and in good shape. Even though he was at the other end of the row she could tell by the way he moved, and by the cut of his blue jeans and snug shirt as he walked across the lot. Yeah, he was full of himself. One of the special people who thought it was ok to steal her parking spot.

She could speed up. He was right there.

Instead of starting her stay at the resort with vehicular homicide, Molly looped around and took one of the spaces at the far end of the parking lot. Grumbling to herself about jerks and the death of chivalry, she opened her trunk and lifted out her suitcase, placed her smaller bag with cosmetics and toiletries on top of the rolling suitcase, draped her purse over her shoulder and wrestled with the garment bag that protected the hideous bridesmaid dress.

If Natalie wanted to be surrounded by puke green as she said her vows, who was Molly to complain?

She was just a few steps away from her car when she realized she should’ve made two trips. If she’d arrived earlier there would’ve been bellmen waiting for guests, but she’d seen no one near the front of the main building when she’d driven in. Her options were to turn back and start again, or soldier on.

She soldiered on.

The automatic doors opened for her as she approached, and she stepped into a beach-appropriate decorated, well-lit lobby. The large Christmas tree in the center of the lobby was festooned with a garland of shells, blue balls, and sea-themed ornaments. Fish and mermaids predominated.

The check-in desk was manned by one tired-looking woman who wore a flowery shirt with colors that would’ve put Ms. Tinsel to shame. Yeah, there were no bellmen to be found at this hour.

Sports car jerk sat in the bar at the far end of the lobby with another man who looked to be the groom. She’d only seen pictures of Tristan, they’d never met, but yeah, the blond guy had to be him. She should head that way and say hello and if the groom had been alone she might’ve, but she was in no mood to smile and play nice with the man who’d stolen her parking space. Molly checked in with no trouble, organized her purse and suitcase again, and headed for the elevator, room key card in hand.

Two scantily clad women approached Tristan and the jerk. They were at the beach, but it was also December. Cover the boobs, ladies. They leaned in, trying to place themselves between the two men. There was no room, but they sure tried. She couldn’t hear a word the women said but they’d definitely taken up a flirty stance.

If Tristan didn’t send them packing…

He did, right about the time Molly reached the elevator. One point for the groom.

Even though he turned away from the women, the sports car guy still got zero.

CHAPTER 2

“My sister Rosieis dying to meet you,” Tristan said as he finished off the last of his rum and Coke.

“Great,” Ben grumbled.

“No, really, she’s been talking about you for days.”

Thatwas horrifying.

Even though they’d played on the same team for a couple of years early in their careers, he’d never met Tristan’s parents or either of his sisters. He’d been introduced to a brother, years ago, but that was it. One sister was married and had a couple of kids. Rosie had to be the one in college. She was too young for him, and he wasn’t interested in starting a relationship anyway. It was better,easier, to focus on baseball.

Tristan and Natalie were so excited about this week. No one-day wedding for them, no. They’d arranged a gulf-side resort for four days, complete with lunches, brunches, and dinners. A party for the bride and her friends, another for the groom and his. The rehearsal dinner Friday night was supposedly going to be epic. Tristan’s word of choice, not his. And of course, the actual wedding, beachside if the weather cooperated, on Saturday. Saturday seemed far off, at the moment.

The groom was paying for it all, and he could afford to. At times Tristan was just a normal, kind of goofy dude, but on the mound he was a genius. His fast ball was one of a kind. If Tristan stayed healthy he was going to be in demand for years to come.

Even though they hadn’t been on the same team for a while, they’d stayed friends. In a weird streak of coincidence, it had been Ben who’d introduced the bride and groom.

Two women snuck up on them as they were finishing their drinks and conversation. Tristan made quick work of the intruders, managing to turn them away without being rude, though he was insistent and the girls obeyed. That ability to send pushy strangers packing without pissing them off was a gift Ben didn’t share. He glanced away as the blonde that had squeezed between them giggled and backed away.

With the turn of his head he noticed an overloaded woman standing by the elevator. She looked like she could use help; that would give him an excuse to get away from the bar. The woman with her hands full made her way onto the elevator. She only stumbled a little.

His chance to be chivalrous came and went.

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