Page 98 of Plays Well With Others

Carter stops mid swing, his gaze snapping to the kid’s. “First you take me on in mini golf, now you’re trying to school me in smack talk?”

“I’m just trying to help you improve your game,” she says, already a master at the droll delivery.

Carter drops his head in his hand and cracks up. When he raises his face, he fights off a smile as he taps the ball. It falls into the hole with a plink.

He fists pumps, then fishes the ball from the hole.

Mac nods thoughtfully. “It must be nice to be excited about second place.”

He growls playfully at her. “We have four holes left, Mac,” he says, pointing as we head to the fifteenth hole.

“Maybe we should make a bet,” Mac says, like she’s musing on the possibilities while we wander down the path to the waterfall up ahead. She brightens, then skips. “How about…ice cream onyouifIwin?”

The question is delivered to Carter, but it gives me a good idea. “Do you like molten chocolate cake with ice cream?”

Mac’s eyes widen. “I like anything.”

She sounds hypnotized by sweets.That feeds the beast in me—the one that relishes watching her take him apart on the links. “Tell you what—if you can beat Carter, we can make this quick molten cake recipe at my house. It takes thirty-five minutes and is amazing with ice cream.”

“Everythingis amazing with ice cream,” she corrects solemnly. She draws a deep breath, seeming to mull over my offer, then she nods resolutely. “All right. I’ll do it. I’ll beat him for ice cream.”

As she marches to the tee, I hang back a few feet behind with Carter. “I figure Mr. Blaine’s round of golf will take longer than ours,” I say, using the formal name for the team owner since Carter always does. “So we’ll need something to do after.”

“I’ll text him.”

“Make sure she doesn’t have any allergies or food restrictions,” I add.

He smiles like that’s the cutest thing I could have asked, then he takes out his phone and sends a message. When he puts it away, he bumps shoulders with me. “You just want to teach her more smack talk,” he says with a smile. It’s an easy, carefree grin. The man has rolled with this change of date plans so easily. That’s new to me too—learning he has a good-with-anything attitude in these situations. And while I already knew he was a nice guy, to see him handle a babysitting date does next level things to my…well, to my…oh god, oh no…to my heart.

This is terrifying, but my heart is beating faster for him, especially as I see him with her.With a kid.

I feel warmer everywhere.

I set a hand on my chest, like that’ll slow these new emotions swimming through my bloodstream, making me feel like…champagne.

I let him walk ahead of me and will my pulse to settle.

He’s just a guy who’s good with kids.

He’s just a guy who wants the best for you.

He’s just a guy who knows how to say he’s sorry and mean it.

That doesn’t mean we’re going to be more than friends beyond our experiment, even though he’s the guy I want to spend the rest of the day with. And the night too.

I talk back to the thrumming in my heart for the next four holes until Mac lifts her club in the air, victorious at the end. Carter comes up to her, extends a hand to shake, and says, “Good game.”

“Yeah, well, I really like ice cream,” she says, no showboating, no trash talk.

He ruffles her hair. “Me too.”

And my heart flips one more time.

* * *

Mac has no interest in baking with me. The second Carter mentioned a raccoon jigsaw puzzle, she asked please, pretty please to do that instead. We swung by Carter’s to grab it, and now Carter and Mac are parked on my living room rug, finishing the border.

While the oven’s pre-heating, I have the best seat in the house to watch their game. As I whisk the melted chocolate in a bowl—we got the allergy all clear from Wilder—I steal glances at the pair across the room. Carter leans across the table and grabs a puzzle piece. “This is the little stinker we’ve been hunting,” he says, holding it up like discovered treasure.

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