Page 24 of Sweet Spot
“Wow. That’s awesome. I’ve only checked out the golf stuff so far, but it seems pretty impressive.”
“You play golf?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, Lincoln is the guy to know then. He’s the very best and a really decent guy on top of it. You know, when he isn’t acting like an overprotective ass.”
“Do you provide reviews like he does—perfect hockey puck shooting form or something?”
He barks a laugh. “Not a big hockey fan, huh?”
“I grew up in the desert.”
“There’s hockey here.”
I raise a brow.
“All right, I get your point. And no, my job is to answer questions that come in. Like, which shot is the hardest for a goalie to stop or how does someone increase the speed on their slap shot?”
“That’s pretty cool.”
Heath nods and flashes a cocky grin that reaches his dark blue eyes. “Just until I make it pro.”
He says it so matter-of-fact that I believe him. If he’s half as good as he is cocky, I have no doubt.
Someone yells across the party, and Heath’s head lifts. He nods to whoever was calling his name and then his eyes flit back to meet mine. “I gotta go. Nice seeing you.”
“You too.”
I find an empty chair in the corner of the crowded living room and pull out my phone.
I entered Lincoln’s number from his business card into my phone. I’m not even sure why, I never intended to use it, but my finger hovers over his name in my contact list. I bite my lip, close my eyes, squeal quietly, and tap.
He answers on the third ring. “This is Lincoln.”
A small giggle escapes my mouth at his tone, which is totally serious and not fazed in the least about the time. Makes me wonder if he’s used to getting calls at one in the morning.
“Hello?” he asks, voice bordering on annoyed.
“Ah, much better. Do you really answer the phone at one in the morning without so much as a hello first?”
There’s a beat before his deep baritone slides over the line. “Anyone who calls this late is delivering bad news. Might as well get right to the point.”
“I guess that’s true.”
“What bad news are you delivering, Keira?”
Maybe it’s the alcohol or maybe it’s because it’s late at night and I likely woke him, but my name on his lips sounds like straight sex and my body warms. “It’s good news actually.”
“Yeah?”
“Yep. I’ve decided that I want you to take over for Simon and be my swing coach. I signed up for the daily review plan.” Saying the words aloud makes me realize just how much I want it. I want to remember how it felt when he was standing near me, scrutinizing, and coaching me like he believed in me more than anyone else ever has.
“I saw.”
“You did?” I ask, pleased that he’s keeping tabs on me.
“It’s my job.” He’s silent for a moment before asking, “Did Simon do something wrong? We have other coaches if you don’t think he’s a good fit.”
