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“Don’t get too comfortable, this won’t take long.” He drops his ball onto the marshy green with a splat, standing on his toes for his next swing.
After his third failed attempt at sinking the shot, I throw up my hands. “Why don’t you take the four and move on.”
“I can do this.” Scrunching his face in acute concentration, he studies the distance between him and his goal. Then with a grunt, he drags his putter through the two inches of water, pushing his ball forward until it drops into the cup. “Finally.”
The word comes out so softly, I’m certain it wasn’t intended for my ears.
“So that’s a five, then?” With a taunting smile, I add his score to the sheet. “Better luck next time.”
His lips curve into a wicked grin, and he pushes past me, bumping my shoulder as he makes his way to the next tee. “Oh, it’s on, sweetheart.”
Tyler wins the next three holes but still trails me by a stroke. Despite the sudden rush of testosterone flowing from my date, I’m having fun. But as we approach the fifth hole, a low rumble in the distance adds an unexpected edge to the evening.
I freeze mid-swing and turn to Tyler. “Did you hear that?”
“Hear what?”
“Thunder?”
“No.” He nods toward my orange ball. “Stop stalling.”
Growling under my breath, I tap my ball, smirking as it jumps over the first hump, drops through the upper-level opening, and zips down a pipe to the lower level, skidding to a stop a few feet from the cup.
“Nice,” he mutters, lining up for his turn with fire in his eyes. “Now watch a master at work.”
His temper gets the best of him, and his ball rockets forward, slamming into the hump, careening into the waterfall’s rock veneer, and falling over the edge into the pond below.
I peer over the side where the blue globe bobs like a buoy. “That’s how a master does it, huh?”
When I turn around, Tyler’s face is mere inches from mine, his hot breath fanning my lips. “I may have overcompensated on that one.”
“You think so?”
“A little.” He chuckles and runs a finger along my jaw. “I really wanna kiss you right now.”
My stomach clenches so hard it knocks the wind out of me.
Tyler closes the distance between us, catching my face between both hands as he covers my mouth with his.
Despite the warning, Tyler takes me by surprise, kissing me like we’re not standing in the middle of a minigolf course. He kisses exactly the way he plays ball—all or nothing—and he’s giving me all he has as he controls my lips with his. Lights flash behind my eyelids, followed by a sustained growl. But despite the fireworks going off in my head, I’m not feeling it where it counts. Instead of giving me the warm fuzzies, the crackling in the air around us reminds me of socks straight from the dryer.
A bright flash lights the entire sky, followed by a loud crack directly overhead.
I let out a shriek and jump back, the taste of his stale gum lingering on my lips. “I told you I heard thunder!”
“Shit. We’d better head for the car.” Tyler barely gets the words out before the sky opens up. He grabs my hand, pulling me down the winding path through the rain toward the exit. “Come on, Kennedy, we need to run.”
He’s obviously never tried to run in heels.
Doing my best to keep up, I stumble several times, nearly capsizing out of Nicole’s ridiculous boots. Not only do we have the deluge coming from above, but the path is so soggy, we’re dodging puddles the whole way.
We come to the stream running through the course, and Tyler gets the brilliant idea to jump it.
“No way.” I plant my feet on the soft ground. “I won’t make it.”
“Yes, you will. I’ve got you.” He squeezes my hand, giving it a sharp yank as he drags me to the water’s edge.
“Tyler, I’m serious. I’m not as athletic as you. And I’m wearing heels.” Fighting against his forward momentum, I raise my foot in case he wasn’t paying attention.
