Page 2 of No Small Sin

The flash of recognition in their eyes later.

I followed him to the first available cart and he loaded my bag onto the back. One of the many benefits of having a membership at South Shore was having first access to tee times. I wasn’t a regular here by any means, but I’d planned enough in advance that I had a bag tag showing that my fees were paid and Alexander was none the wiser regarding my real reason for stopping by on this gorgeous Saturday morning.

“Key’s in the ignition. Enjoy your day.”

I gave him a curt nod. I had the rest of the morning to think over how I’d make a solid and lasting impression on him later.

By my eleventh hole, I was feeling pretty zen. I took a moment to kick back in the seat of the cart. Resting my head against the back bar I closed my eyes, mulling over my options. At this point, Alexander was having a normal day at work. But within the next hour or so I would be leaving, and I would have the opportunity to unsettle him in the most delicious of ways if I played my cards right. A slow smile crept across my face.

The low whine of another cart approaching stirred me from my thoughts.

Great. The adult version of an ice cream truck. This was one way that I most certainly couldn’t blend in with the crowd despite my best efforts in all other areas. I simply didn’t see the appeal in getting blistered at eleven o'clock in the morning, and unfortunately, that was a regular thing for many golfers. I often wondered if they actually enjoyed the sport itself or if they just wanted an excuse to day drink.

I gathered myself with a long intake of breath and ran my hand over my face before opening my eyes.

Maybe steeling myself for a second longer would have prepared me.

Likely not.

Her waist-length raven-black hair was loosely braided to the side and held back from her face by one of those fleece headbands meant to keep your ears warm.

I was thankful for the unobstructed view.

I’d never seen a more flawless visage.

She stared up at me with big, round, slate grey doe eyes from behind a set of long, thick lashes. There was a smattering of freckles along the bridge of her nose and I had to stop myself from reaching out and playing a quick game of connect the dots.

“What can I get you to drink?” Dimples formed near each corner of her mouth.

“I, ah…”Did I say I didn’t day drink?“It’s eleven in the morning?” I grimaced.

She huffed a laugh. “I have water, babe.”

I would have trekked across the Kalahari Desert to purchase a single drop of water from her.“Sure, I’ll take a water.”

She turned back to her beverage cart, her short black tennis skirt riding up the back of her tanned thighs as she leaned across the seat to the cooler on the far side. Chill bumps dotted across the expanse of her smooth skin.

My cock jerked against the zipper of my pants.

This was new — something I’d willed my body to do on so many occasions I’d lost count. I’d long since given up any attempts at normalcy in that area of my life. It was simply something I wasn’t capable of. The only genuine interest I’d ever had in physical contact with another human being had always,on every single occasion, involved watching the light leave their eyes.

She wiggled the bottle in front of my face and my eyes refocused. “Oh, sorry,” I said, taking the drink. “I checked out there for a second.”

Her ridiculously soft, oversized jacket had fallen off of one shoulder. Unable to stop myself I reached out to pull it back into place. My fingertips grazed the plane of her exposed skin.

I shivered at the contact. “It’s fucking cold out here.”

“Yeah. They make us wear these stupid fucking skirts year-round. The tips are good though, so I guess I shouldn’t complain,” she shrugged. “And I have a little heater on my cart.”

I wanted to throw her over my shoulder and haul her straight to the nearest insulated structure with a central furnace.

Her face dropped a fraction just as I noted the whir of another approaching cart. “Fucking great,” she murmured before plastering another smile on her face, this one not quite reaching those big round eyes. There was something infinitesimally harsher in her gaze, now locked just above my right shoulder. It twisted something in my chest, an unfamiliar feeling. “Alex,” the name a curse on her delicate lips. “What are you doing out here?”

“Making rounds. Ranger’s out sick. Saw you over here and thought I’d stop for a drink,” he winked. I wanted to scoop his eyeball from his skull with my bare hand.

“You know I’m not allowed to serve you alcohol while you’re working. I’m not losing my fucking job for you, Alex,” she crossed her arms over her chest.

If looks could kill, I’d have had one less thing on my to-do list that night.

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