Page 26 of Fore Better or Worse
The reasonable part of my brain screams warnings about paparazzi and media attention and the chaos that followsprofessional athletes. Let alone the fact he should be focusing on the tournament of his life.
But the hope and determination written across his features win me over. That and the throbbing ache between my legs. “Okay,” I breathe. “A week.”
A brilliant smile transforms his face. “You won’t regret it, sweetheart.”
Before I can process what’s happening, he’s cupping my face in his hands and kissing me as if he’s drowning and I’m oxygen. His lips are soft and demanding and exactly as I remember.
I melt into him as the kiss deepens, his tongue tracing the seam of my lips until I open for him with a soft gasp. My hands fist in his polo, pulling him closer until his heartbeat pounds against my palms.
It’s a kiss that sets my body on fire. Until the bell above the door chimes, and the intimate bubble around us bursts. A family of four comes in, mid-conversation, chattering loudly until the father pulls up short as his eyes widen in recognition.
“Holy shit, that’s Hays Granger!” he whisper-yells to his wife, who immediately starts digging through her purse.
My stomach drops as I realize what I’ve just signed up for. The attention, the scrutiny, the complete loss of privacy that comes with being connected to someone in the spotlight. All while I’m supposed to be getting to know the man I’ve agreed to marry. I take a step back, but Hays reaches for my hand and threads our fingers together.
“I’ve got you,” he murmurs against my ear, his voice steady and reassuring. “Always.”
Chapter fifteen
Hays
Standing on Leah’s front porch ten hours later, with enough takeout to feed a small army, I realize I might have gone slightly overboard. I wasn’t sure what she likes, so at the Thai place, a few doors down fromHigh Tide Tales, I ordered one of everything.
The porchlight casts a warm glow over a dozen potted herbs lining the railing. A wreath made of what looks like book pages folded into roses hangs on a sage green front door.
Before I knock, the door swings open, and there she is in a long sundress. My mouth goes bone dry. Her dark hair is loose around her shoulders, and she’s barefoot, which is suddenly the sexiest thing I’ve seen in my life.
“You do realize there are only two of us, right?” she asks, eyeing the ridiculous number of bags dangling from my arms.
“I may have overdone it,” I admit, stepping inside when she moves back. “But I wasn’t sure if you liked spice.”
“If I like spice?” A mischievous flicker in her eyes makes the innuendo clear as she helps me carry everything to the kitchen.
“I figured it was better to have options and let you choose your comfort level,” I say with a straight face, playing along.
Her flirty smile makes my pulse trip. “And what if I told you I like everything?”
“Everything?”
“All of it. From one to five chili peppers. At least…in books.”
“In books?”
She opens a container of pad thai, inhaling the aroma. “Romance novels can get quite… spicy, you know. And I’ve read everything from sweet to so hot the pages practically combust.”
Jesus Christ. The way she looks at me while talking about spice levels makes it impossible to think about actual food. “But what about in real life?”
She pauses then sets down the container. Her voice is softer when she answers. “In real life, my limited experiences have been rather…tame, so I can’t say.”
If she wants me to deliver the spice, I’m happy to. But I’m here tonight to get to know Leah and let her get to know me. Not pin her against a wall and go to town within sixty seconds of walking in the door.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” I clear my throat and ignore the way my cock is now a steel rod in my shorts. “For future reference.”
“Future reference.” The promise in those two words makes my balls heavy with need.
I blow out a long breath and glance around. Her house is exactly what I imagined. Small but cozy, with overflowing built-in bookshelves. There’s a candle flickering on the kitchen counter that smells like vanilla.
This is where she’s been all this time. Where she’s written her book, drunk her morning coffee, dreamed her dreams. Three years of wondering what her everyday life looked like, and now, I’m finally here. “Your place is very…you.”
