Ryan took a deep breath. He was on.

  Focus on what you can control, he told himself, practicing what he’d learned in umpteen hours of counseling. Let the other stuff go.

  A satisfied look crossed his opponent’s face. “What’s the matter? Did I say something wrong?” He didn’t try to hide a smirk.

  “Nope. Everything’s good. Let’s play.”

  Marcus grinned. “Sure thing. May the best man win.”

  Ryan was first up. He approached the tee box and planted his tee in the ground, then stepped back and positioned himself at the marker, ready for his first shot. His hands gripped his driver tightly as he addressed the ball, desperately wanting to mentally get beyond his jangling nerves.

  He was a pro. He could do this.

  The official held up his hands and crowd immediately quieted.

  Ryan took a deep breath. Slowly, he drew his club back and swung, following through with precision. The club face hit right at the sweet spot sending the ball soaring in a straight line down the fairway. All eyes watched as it landed at the outer edge of the apron, where he’d easily be able to chip onto the green in one shot.

  The crowd broke into polite applause.

  Enjoying the elation of the moment, Ryan waved to the fans before unsnapping his glove and tucking it in his back pocket. He moved from the tee box, but not before tossing a satisfied glance at Marcus.

  “Yup, may the best man win,” he whispered to Danny as he handed off his driver.

  And he wasn’t only referring to this golf game.

  * * *

  Beth Michaels marched across the meticulously manicured lawn heading for the registration tent, her fingers moving across the face of her phone with fury. Game day always presented issues but the last thing she needed this morning was an entitled wife of a sponsor throwing a fit because the champagne was not chilled to her liking.

  She slipped the radio from the belt at her waist and called security. “Bill, I need you at the hospitality tent stat.”

  With the problem handed off into capable hands, she focused on sending out a broadcasted text alerting reporters that complimentary food and beverages would be provided in the media tent, a gesture meant to encourage generous coverage of the event—a little trick she’d learned from Leigh Ann Blackburn, her mentor.

  “Morning, Beth!”

  She nodded to the staff manning the registration tables. “Morning. Everything going okay?”

  One of the girls stood. “So far, so good.”

  Beth grinned their way. “You guys have done an excellent job. Keep up the great work.”

  Fortunately, the myriad of items on her list were now mentally checked off. With few exceptions, the early hours of the tournament had gone off without a hitch. All she had to do now was stroll the greens and make sure ticket holders were enjoying themselves.

  Okay, that and she desperately wanted to check to see how Ryan was doing. Trying not to look obvious, she scanned the board for his name and learned he was paired with Marcus Clopton and they were scheduled to be the first to tee off this morning.

  She glanced at her watch.

  Darn! She’d missed it.

  The leaderboard indicated he’d birdied the first hole. Perhaps she could catch up with them at the second hole. She hurried that way and wedged herself up against the rope just in time, breathless but excited to watch his next drive.

  It unnerved Beth more than a little at how excited she was to see him, how her heart picked up tempo at the sight of him.

  He pulled his glove from his pocket, slipped it on his hand and snapped it tight—the same hand that rested on her foot in the hospital bed. His biceps grew taut as he reached for his club.

  The image sent her mind to strange places, recalling how it felt yesterday when he’d wrapped those same arms around her own while showing her the proper way to putt.

  Just thinking about him had both her mind and her body going cold with shivers and warm with flames at the exact same time. Which was exactly why she needed to keep her head on straight. The last thing she wanted was to get swept off her feet by some guy without exhibiting appropriate caution .

  That was her mother’s style. Not hers.

  But Ryan Banderman wasn’t just some guy. Not only did this golf pro send her hormones racing, he was flat out kind. Look at the way he interacted with little Nicholas, for example. She’d never known a man to be so comfortable with kids. But it was more than simply being at ease, she quickly realized. He liked kids, plain and simple. You could tell a lot about a man’s character by the way he treated children, old people, and dogs.

  Besides that, out of all the golf contestants, Ryan was the only one who showed up at the hospital to check on her well-being. With flowers, no less.

  Something told her that this guy was different in all the ways that mattered.

  Even so, she was more than a little reluctant to trust any man with her heart. Allowing the sparks and electricity she and Ryan obviously both felt to mutate into anything more intimate could end up putting them both at risk.

  He was fresh out of rehab. Was he even ready for a relationship?

  Was she?

  He looked over and noticed her. His face brightened as they stared at each other, the air between them doing that thing with the sparks and the electricity again. Suddenly she didn’t know if she was ready for a relationship, and she didn’t care. All that mattered was the expression on his face.

  Out-and-out respect.

  For her.

  Knowing she was often too cautious for her own good, she smiled back at him—a smile that clearly expressed she was happy to see him.

  No woman wanted to think that she could be hurt. Especially one who had sworn not to follow in the footsteps of her mother and set herself up for repeated emotional destruction.

  Elizabeth Gloria Michaels did not need any man to make her feel complete and fulfilled. She did not need to be taken care of, nor did she find it necessary to have a man next to her as she drifted off to sleep each night.

  She’d worked tirelessly to be self-sufficient. After years of study and strategic manuevering, she was finally poised in the career of her choice and ready to make her mark in the field of public relations. She had all the reasons in the world to walk away from this budding relationship and never look back—to stay safe and risk free.

  No one was forcing her to move forward.

  Then why was her heart pounding nearly out of her chest? Why was she unable to look away? And why was she hoping Ryan Banderman would be waiting for her at the 18th hole?

  * * *

  Ryan successfully hit another near perfect drive and stepped down from the second tee box elated. He couldn’t tell if his euphoria was related to his performance or the fact that he’d spotted Beth standing behind the rope.

  She saw him too and her face drew into a wide smile.

  When you’d messed up as badly as he had, a person could easily feel like you no longer deserved someone like her. Truth was, Beth Michaels made him want to be a better man.

  He handed off his driver to Danny taking care not to meet Marcus’ gaze as he passed him. It just wasn’t worth it.

  Ryan was up by two strokes, and by his facial expression, Marcus was none too happy about it. As if to punctuate the notion, Marcus snatched the driver out of his caddies’ hand and stomped to the tee box.

  As much as Ryan enjoyed watching his surly opponent’s antics, he much preferred focusing on Beth.

  The course was like a magazine photograph—green fairways lined with pine trees and brightly colored flowers. Water features filled with sparkling blue water that matched the color of the sky overhead. Yet none of the beauty compared to her.

  Danny slapped him on the back and leaned in, “You rocked these last two holes. The next presents some unique challenges.” He pulled a scorecard from his back pocket and a tiny pencil. “At 415 yards, the third hole is a par four. This slight dogleg right plays uphill and has a deep bunker requiring a 317-yard carry off the tee.”

  Ryan nodded, but didn’t pull his attention from where Beth stood a few yards from the fairway.

  “The bunker has a tongue in the left side,” Danny continued. “So anything that enters the front of the bunker might be blocked by the lip. A second bunker is left of the green, which falls off sharply at the back and to the right. You’ll need a 6-iron to pitch a low-running shot from the right mounds across the green. With any luck, you can hole the shot for a birdie.” He paused. “B-Man, you listening?”

  He nodded. “Yup. Got it.”

  Ryan shouldn’t have been standing there thinking how cute Beth was, but dog gone it, that was exactly what he was doing. It was too hard not to.

  The crowd quieted.

  Ryan turned in time to watch Marcus swing. The muck shanked the ball, sending it rocketing into a stand of quaking aspen trees to the right of the fairway. He immediately let out a curse and threw his driver, missing his caddie’s head by inches.

  The crowd gasped. Whether they were reacting to the overconfident golf pro’s bad shot or at his rude reaction, one couldn’t be sure. Either way, Marcus had just made his way onto the front page of tomorrow’s sport section of the newspaper.

  Ryan didn’t dare gloat. He knew how it felt to mess up in public. Still, a tiny part of him thrilled to know fate had taken the arrogant blowhard down a notch. Even more, that the horrible shot had been in front of Beth.

  By the ninth hole, Marcus’ mistake had only served to push him to capture a double eagle followed by a string of bogeys. With renewed confidence, he finished the round several strokes under.

  Likewise, Ryan pushed himself into serious contention by matching Marcus’ score. At the end of the day, Marcus and Ryan along with a third golfer, Jon Hunt, ended with a three-way tie for first place. The final score would not be established until the end of the second day, with valuable prizes awarded and a coveted title of first place.

  Relieved, and with more than a little satisfaction, Ryan turned to his opponent and engaged in the obligatory handshake. “Good game, Marcus.” He couldn’t help but add, “I wasn’t sure you were going to pull it out after that second hole shot.”

  Marcus’ mouth curved into a smile. “Feel free to take notes, Banderman. When a disappointment comes along, you define the moment—or the moment defines you.” He brushed past Ryan and Danny and waved to the waiting crowd.

  Danny rolled his eyes. “I'm not saying I hate that guy, but I would unplug his life support to charge my phone.”

  Ryan laughed and sauntered over to where the media had gathered to take photos and interview the players. He showcased a wide grin, despite the annoying flashes.

  “Banderman, over here!”

  According to his badge, the reporter was from a national golf television show that aired on Sunday mornings. He thrust a microphone forward. “Ryan, what’s the difference between the golf pro who left the circuit nearly a year ago facing scandal and the man who just walked off this course currently tied for first place?”

  Inside, Ryan bemoaned the fact everyone continued to camp on his failings. It was the way the game was played, he supposed. He’d just have to deal with the fact the scandal would follow him forever in some manner.

  He grew somber, took a deep breath. “A lot has transpired in my life since then. It’s no secret I messed up badly, put my career at risk and lost key sponsorships. Thankfully, my addiction came to a head and after going for inpatient treatment for a number of weeks, following by intensive outpatient counseling, I’m getting back to my old roots and who I really am. Beyond that, the details of my journey to sobriety is a personal matter. To the extent possible, I’ve successfully dealt with what happened and fans can expect nothing associated with that incident of last year will be affecting my golf game going forward.”

  The reporter nodded. “Given all that’s happened, what’s your current measure of success?”

  “Well, I’m excited to be back playing. I’m jazzed about the level of competition here at the tournament. I missed competing. After all that’s gone down over the past months, I now feel a renewed personal strength that I think is showing up in my game.”

  He chose that moment to cut the interview short. He’d said what was necessary, what the public needed to hear him say . . . again. Now it was time to move on with his head held high. Especially after today’s performance.

  “Fantastic round!” Sean Lyons maneuvered into the space between him and the reporter, patted him on the back. “Makes me proud to be your manager.”

  “Agreed.” Alfred Hannity followed on Shawn’s heels. He beamed and turned to face the cameras. “Twinky Dinks is ecstatic with Ryan’s performance, and proud to be his sponsor.”

  Ryan nodded enthusiasticly. “I appreciate the confidence.” He snuck a look around, feeling deflated when he realized Beth was now gone.

  Just then a pair of hands slipped over his eyes from behind.

  Ryan reached and grabbed the hands, taking in the slight floral scent that immediately anchored his thoughts on Beth and the evening they’d enjoyed. “Hey, you,” he said.

  He turned, his smile quickly fading. “Sylvia?”

  Her face broke into a calculating half-moon smile. Ryan knew that smile, knew what it meant.

  “Looks like congratulations are in order, champ.”

  Across the way, Danny slapped a golf towel over his shoulder and glared. Ryan also knew what that look meant.

  In a bold move, Sylvia leaned and kissed Ryan’s cheek. “The offer still stands,” she whispered, drawing her finger slowly across his jawline. “We could celebrate in private.”

  “I—I don’t think so,” he muttered with a nervous laugh.

  “Aw, what’s the matter?” Her voice was laced with disappointment, and a bit of a challenge. “Just because you gave up your vices doesn’t mean you have to skip all the fun parts of life.”

  Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Beth heading over. Her face was bright and cheery and made his heart idle a bit too fast, especially when he allowed himself to remember how her hair smelled when he’d tutored her on the fine skills of putting last evening.

  He momentarily focused on Sylvia, gently pressed her aside. “Sorry, but sometimes your definition of fun changes.”

  Not bothering to wait for her reaction, Ryan returned his attention to Beth. But when he looked back, she was gone.

  10

  Beth maneuvered through the crowd occasionally standing on tippy toe to catch a glimpse of Ryan. She was thrilled he’d finished day one of the tournament in the leading spot and wanted to make her way to him to offer congratulations. And look at all the positive media attention he was getting! Not only was it good for Ryan’s career, but every minute of network airtime launched the tournament franchise a little bit higher in the public’s mind and increased donations.

  From the looks of things, Ryan’s manager and sponsor were enjoying the spotlight as well. While last year’s scandal would no doubt follow Ryan for some time to come, this positive attention would go a long way in restoring his reputation, which left her elated. She liked Ryan and only wanted the best for him.

  In truth, something inside tightened even at the thought of him. She wasn’t entirely sure that had ever happened to her before. While the feeling was unnerving to some extent, the powerful allure was also a tiny bit thrilling. The same thrill she’d felt last night when he’d wrapped his arms around her own and showed her the fine art of putting.

  Breaking free of the crowd, she waved in their direction. While Ryan’s attention was diverted, Danny made a big sweeping motion with his arm, waving her over. Then Ryan too looked up and saw her. She grinned and headed that way.

  She immediately stopped in her tracks.

  A woman—very chic and smart-looking—came up behind Ryan and covered his eyes with her hands. His hands grabbed hers and he turned. She wished she could make out what the woman said, but whatever the effortlessly stunning woman whispered at his ear caused Ryan to laugh.

  Beth’s gut cinched.

  This lady was more than an acquaintance. Much more.

  She fought to breathe. How could she have been so stupid?

  Beth turned and marched back into the crowd as fast as she could. She needed to get away, put some space between her and the man who had sucked her into believing she was someone special. Instead, she was simply one of many women fawning over Ryan and he was eating up the attention.

  She’d been played like a badly tuned piano.

  All those hours she’d spent mulling over their evening. She’d created a romantic fantasy, completely shoving reality aside. In sheer madness, she’d acted just like her mother.

  “Ms. Michaels?” Marcus Clopton stepped into her line of view, blocking her from moving forward. “I just wanted to thank you for all your hard work. This golf tournament is top rate and raised the bar when it comes to charity events. You and your team are to be commended.” He cleared his throat. “Did I say something wrong? You’re frowning.”

  “Huh?” She shook off her exasperation and focused on the man before her, planted a smile. “Oh—no, sorry. I was thinking of—well, it doesn’t matter. Thank you for the compliment. And, congratulations on your performance today.”

  Marcus grinned like a kid. “The second hole wasn’t anything to write home about, but I rallied. Anything for these foster kids.”

  Marcus Clopton had a look of mannerly accomplishment. His jet-black hair contrasted with aqua blue eyes you might see on a Hollywood star. No doubt one of those men who would age well. Even after playing eighteen holes in the warm summer heat, his chinos and polo shirt looked as fresh as someone who had just walked out of a gift shop dressing room with tags hanging from the collar.

  Determined to keep her cool, Beth took a step back, squared her shoulders. This guy was definitely a player. At least he didn’t pretend to be something or someone else.

  Unable to help herself, Beth found herself maneuvering so her gaze could drift past his shoulders.

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9