Page 80 of Sweet Spot
Lincoln’s grandmother doesn’t miss a beat. She takes the plate in one hand and runs her free hand from the top of my head down my hair. “If Lincoln says you’re ready, then you are. He isn’t much of a bullshitter.”
I laugh at her cursing, and she grins, pleased that she lightened my mood a bit.
Before we leave, Gram clutches me to her chest again and then reaches for Lincoln
“Thank you.” She cups his face and smiles at me. “Take care of that one and make her eat something later.”
One side of his mouth lifts before he drops a kiss to her cheek. “Will do, Gram.”
“Good luck.” Her arms grip me firmly with a freakish strength despite her age.
“Thank you.”
Lincoln and I drive to the course in silence. I’m mulling over something he said earlier in an attempt to avoid thinking about golf.
“Does Gram know we’re . . .” I wave between us.
He smirks. “Does she know we’re what?”
“Don’t make me say it.”
He chuckles and then shrugs. “Maybe. She hasn’t said anything, and I’m not in the habit of talking to my grandmother about my sex life.”
We pull into the parking lot, and he kills the engine. He jumps out, and I’m slow to follow, while I try to sort through the emotions swirling around me. I can’t help being disappointed even if it’s unjustified. I haven’t told my family about him, so why am I annoyed he hasn’t mentioned it to his grandmother?
I’m still working through my feelings as we grab a large bucket of balls from the pro shop and head over to the driving range. Lincoln sets up his camera to capture my swing, and I stretch.
“Do you think she’ll set you up on more blind dates eventually? It’s been what, two months since the last one?”
“The one you crashed?” He smirks. “Probably. I’m sure there’s someone at the country club she hasn’t hit up for single daughters or granddaughters yet.” He’s all set up and faces me. “Ready?”
“Why don’t you just tell her we’re . . .” I tread carefully. I know he doesn’t want anything serious, but whatever we are is more than fuck buddies. “Dating or hanging out or whatever you want to call it.”
He doesn’t respond at first, and I get my driver and tee up the first ball.
“Trust me, you don’t want her knowing. She’d probably start picking out names for her great grandchildren.”
When I’m silent for too long, he adds. “I’m not ready for that.”
“I know, and I’m not asking for that, but we’resomething. I don’t understand why you wouldn’t say something to get her off your back.”
“Is this about me seeing other people? Because I’m not sleeping with anyone else.”
“No, it isn’t that.”
He lowers his voice and walks closer. “Then what is it?”
I shrug one shoulder. “Things are good between us, or at least they are for me. We’re spending lots of time together, and I really like you. I guess I’m wondering what happens when we’re done working together?”
He rakes a hand through his hair and doesn’t quite meet my gaze. “I’m not sure.”
The pit in my stomach grows.
“Come on,” he says, “let’s get you through the qualifier and then you can start thinking about the day you’re gonna be free of me.” He says it teasingly, but I’m hurt that he is so easy to dismiss whatever is going on between us.
I nod my agreement, and we get started. It’s painful working together the rest of the morning. I go through the motions while Lincoln stands back, seemingly unaffected. Though I know he can tell the difference in me. I’m not exactly subtle about my dark mood.
“Nice. That looks really good,” he says after my first drive off the back nine. Smiling, he raises his hand to give me a high-five, and I slap my palm against his softly. He captures my fingers, and I meet his gaze. “How’d that feel?”
