Both Mac and Cal raised a hand in greeting. Dean waved and wrapped her in a hug.
“I like the kitties, Babs.” Dean slipped his index finger under the thick strap crossing her shoulder. Cross stitch style cats covered the dress. Maggie kept running her fingers over the little bumps of their noses. Her breath caught when Dean’s finger touched her skin. He looked her over from head to toe and smiled. “Very cute.”
Maggie blushed. “Thank you,”
“I hope you brought a sweater,” Mac said.
The breeze was chilly and under normal circumstances, she absolutely would have brought layers. Maggie felt her body flinch when Audrey whirled on Mac, eyes flashing. Cal dropped his head into his hands.
“What is wrong with you?” Audrey said through her clenched teeth.
“What?” Mac asked.
“Dude,” Cal said, his voice low enough that Maggie almost missed it. “We talked about this.”
Dean frowned, lines creasing the skin between his brows. He wrapped an arm around Maggie’s shoulders and pulled her into his warm chest.
“Ignore him,” Dean said, “You look great.”
The men paid the entrance fee while Audrey and Maggie assigned colored balls to each player and grabbed putters. Audrey picked pink and grabbed a blue ball for Cal. Maggie grabbed a bright yellow ball, her favorite color, but also easier to see if it winged somewhere out of sight, for herself and for Dean, a deep green ball the color of his eyes.
“Mac can have the black ball,” Audrey said and pocketed one for him. “It’s the color of his soul.”
“Just the other day, you said he was sweet,” Maggie said, and Audrey scoffed.
“That was before he was rude.”
Mac hadn’t been rude, just honest. The temperature today was in the sixties. She was definitely going to be chilly. Especially with so much of the green shaded by big, leafy trees. Mac had been looking out for her, not criticizing her. But she also wasn’t complaining about Dean’s protective reaction, so she’d let Mac take one for the team, and she’d pretend to be offended.
“We should play in teams,” Audrey said when they reached hole number one.
“We’re not an even number.” Maggie busied herself handing out golf balls.
“Mac, buddy, you’ve got to bring a date to these things.” Dean said with his signature smile.
It was Maggie’s turn to frown at that. Mac with a date? Who would he bring? Probably someone sophisticated and educated. Someone with multiple degrees they could hang on their office walls in big, wooden frames. Although if he dated someone like that, he’d probably stop coming on silly little dates like the county fair or mini golf. Maggie held out Mac’s golf ball and he took it, their fingers brushing. She felt electricity zing through her fingers at the contact. Mac pulled his hand back as though he felt the same.
“Ignore him,” she said to Mac, “What was it you said to me? Pick someone who you want and who wants you? That was brilliant advice. It worked out well for me.” Maggie turned her smile on Dean, who was sizing up the first hole.
“Did it?” Mac asked, his voice pitched for Maggie’s ears alone. Louder, he added, “Flip a coin."
“Heads,” Cal said, “you join the menfolk because we have multiple heads. Tails, you join the ladies since they’re a piece of…”
“Don’t even think about finishing that sentence,” Audrey told her boyfriend. “Heads, Mac joins me and Maggie, since we clearly have all the brains. Tails, he joins you since you’re an ass.”
“Deal,” Cal said, and pulled a quarter out of his pocket.
“Wait a minute.” Mac snatched the coin from his brother’s hand. “If it’s my fate, then I’m flipping it.”
Mac tossed the coin into the air, and it flipped end over end, glinting silver in the sunlight. It landed in his palm and Mac flipped it over onto the back of his opposite arm.
“Heads,” Maggie said before Mac moved his hand.
“You don’t need to call it. He already decided what each side meant,” Dean said.
“I know,” Maggie said, feeling an embarrassed blush stain her cheeks. “I just like to guess.”
“Heads it is.” Mac handed the quarter back to his brother and Cal shoved it deep into the pocket of his cargo shorts. “Can we play now?”