“No one is making you do this, you realize,” he said, trying to regain his sanity. He had not been just thinking about his neighbor’s lips. He slung the golf bags over each shoulder before slamming the trunk. He handed the valet his car keys and headed inside the club. “If you hadn’t pretended to actually know how to play golf, you could have used the opportunity to ask Luke to take you for your first lesson.”
She arched an eyebrow at him. “You couldn’t have thought to tell me this before?” She glanced around the club, looking a little less certain all of a sudden. “What time are we scheduled to start teeing off—is that what you call it?”
“We have an hour.”
“What?” Her eyes widened. “You pulled me up out of bed and we still have an hour? If you wanted company for breakfast, we could have stopped at McDonalds’s drive-through and given me an hour more of sleep.”
“McDonalds? You sound like Ella. Are you sure you’re not four? No, we’re here early because we’re going to go to the driving range to spend a little time working on your swing. There’s more to it than just closing your eyes and hoping you make contact.”
“Henry,” someone called from one of the tables, and he looked over to see Mark and Jonathan, two club members he’d played golf with on occasion, now standing up and heading their way.
“Good to see you. Jonathan and I were just wondering if we were going to catch you this weekend since we missed you last week,” Mark said as they reached him.
“Had some family stuff to attend to, but thought I’d get some time in today.” Both men, however, weren’t really listening to what he’d said and were instead staring at his golf buddy. “Mark, Jonathan, this is my friend Dr. Benny Sorensen.”
Each man offered his hand, smiling a little too widely at Benny, who was smiling back just as readily, unaware of these guys’ track records.
“Are you two playing in pairs today?” Mark asked. “Because it’s just the two of us, if you wanted to make it a foursome.”
“Sorry, fellows. Benny is something of a novice. I’m going to show her a little more about the game before we actually tee off.”
“I’m afraid it’s true. I’m what you might call a golf virgin,” Benny said in a playful tone that had Henry’s mouth dropping open. “Never even held an iron—is that the right word?—before.”
“You know,” Jonathan said, eyes still on Benny, “if you’re trying to pick up the game, you could do a lot better than taking tips from Ellison here.”
“I probably could. But you know how Henry is. His fragile ego needs to be built up a bit at times.”
“Ah, yes. That’s me. Needing to hear the endless cries of gratitude and appreciation that you, for one, are so quick to give.”
Benny grinned back at him, and for a moment they stared at each other, his mind reeling at how the stodgy, reserved doctor had suddenly become so adept at flirting.
And doing it well.
And he wasn’t sure he liked it. At least not when it was trained on someone other than him.
…
“Well, we tee off in an hour if you two decide to have a go at it,” said the shorter brown-haired guy, whom Henry had introduced as Mark.
Benny had almost forgotten they were both there for a minute, caught up in staring into Henry’s eyes. Which was pure insanity.
She did a mental headshake and was about to respond when Henry cut in, a little more curt than necessary. “We’ll certainly keep that in mind.”
Sure to smile, she waved good-bye and followed Henry outside the clubhouse.
Minutes before, on entering the fancy clubhouse already teeming with people—particularly women, who were eyeing Henry like he was the only glass of water on a hot summer day—Benny’d felt out of place and expected someone to ask her for proof of why she was even there. Spending the day at a country club, let alone on a golf course, was the last thing she’d ever seen herself doing.
The county pool and community center were more her thing.
But Henry’s friends had helped ease that discomfort. She had almost surprised herself with the flirty, sexually tinged comments that spewed so easily from her mouth. Comments she thought would have earned more amusement and encouragement from Henry. Instead he’d looked stunned and then…annoyed.
They reached the driving range, and she took a moment to take in the million-dollar view of the Wasatch Mountains, the clubhouse and pool, and the tranquil pond in the distance. The air felt unnaturally clear and sharp this morning, crisp in anticipation of the heat to come.
Henry pulled out a club from the smaller bag, handed it to her, and took another club from his own bag. “You’re going to want to hold the club like this.” He held his hands in front of them then curled one hand around the end of the club, waiting for her to repeat it, before gripping the other side. Then he raised it and did a practice swing, the air swooshing as he brought the club through.
Man, she hated golf, but the artful way Henry swung that thing was…kind of hot.
“Try it,” he said, thankfully ignorant of her less-than-chaste thoughts.