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“Wait a minute,” I say, pretending to think. “Isn’t mini golf something that, like, dads take their daughters do together?” I tease. Clancy chuckles low in his throat, slapping me on the ass in faux irritation.
“Yeah, it is, and now you and I are going to enjoy it together, too. Why, do you want me to treat you like my daughter while we’re on the course?”
I smile cheekily.
“Could be fun. We could shock all the other players when your hand goes up my shirt and I call you ‘Daddy.’”
The alpha male merely growls again and kisses my neck tenderly. I smile, melting into his touch. If it were anyone else, I wouldn’t be half as excited, but with Clancy, miniature golf’s going to be a blast.
Later that night, I dust on some light make-up because it’d be weird to show up for mini-golf with a thick mask of foundation. Instead, I stick to glossy, light pink lips and just the tiniest hint of mascara to emphasize my eyes. Then, I fix my hair in a loose ponytail before checking myself out in the mirror and giggling. Oh yeah, Clancy’s going to love the tight blue polo shirt that hugs my breasts, and the matching shorts which reveal acres of leg. With another tantalizing giggle, I head out to the living room, where Clancy is wearing light green pants and a form-fitting polo that highlights his broad chest, sculpted pecs, and bulging biceps.
“Really?” I muse with my brow arched. “Green pants, and not pink?”
He shrugs and grins.
“Hey, they look good.”
I smile sassily while taking the opportunity to slap his firm ass.
“They do,” I whisper. “Very nice.”
Clancy catches my mouth in a slow kiss that turns heated so fast that I’m moaning and weak when he pulls away. But he merely grins again before taking me elbow.
“Ready to go?”
I nod dumbly. How does this man do this to me? I swear, I can’t even remember my own name right now. But with a chuckle, he guides me out the apartment and to the elevator, where we take the lift down to the building’s garage. Then he directs me to a fancy blue sports car, gleaming low and sleek in the dim lights.
“I didn’t know you had a car!” I exclaim, my eyes going wide. “Is this a Ferrari?”
“Why, do you think I don’t know how to drive?” he chuckles, helping me into the low-slung passenger seat. I sputter a bit.
“No, it’s just that I thought you used your driver all the time.”
He shakes his head, levering his huge form into the driver’s seat. Clancy’s so big that the vehicle feels small with him in it, but surprisingly, there’s plenty of room for his long legs.
“Nope. I have a couple cars that I keep when I feel like taking the wheel myself. I show them to you sometime,” he grins before revving the engine and screeching out of the garage.
I watch as Manhattan passes by. The city’s alive and vibrant, especially during the evening hours. But soon, we’re crossing the bridge into Queens, and then making our way through the gritty borough into the lush greenery of Long Island.
“Goodness, the course is pretty far, hmm?” I muse while still staring out the window. Clancy’s hand is on my thigh and he squeezes it, enjoying the heft and pull.
“It is, but it’s the best one in New York,” he remarks. “The others are pretty horrific and run-down, but Dragon Golf was just renovated so it’s going to be amazing.”
“Dragon Golf?” I ask, arching a brow.
“Hell yeah,” he says. “Each green has a gaping dragon. Then you shoot the ball into their maws to score.”
I giggle.
“Sounds very of Game of Thrones-ish.”
He chuckles.
“Yeah, I guess so. You’ll see, honey.”
We finally pull up before a huge Disney-like looking structure, and when we step inside, I see that the complex is enormous. This really is Game of Thrones because there aren’t just some dinky plastic dragons strewn about. Instead, the course has tall windmills and elaborate scenes of towns ranging from medieval castles to Roman ruins. If I were a child, I would be absolutely blown away. Hell, I’m an adult and I’m still in total awe.
“This place is crazy,” I gasp. “Are you sure this is mini golf? It doesn’t look like there’s anything ‘miniature’ about it.”
Clancy smiles. “Have you never seen a real golf course?” he teases. “The real thing is hundreds of acres, and there are no fun attractions, so this is small by comparison.”
I shake my head
“I’m just saying, it’s huge.”
He nods while slinging a strong arm about my waist.
“Well, I wanted to bring you somewhere nice, sweetheart, even if it’s a little bit of a silly activity. I want it to be fun for you.”
“I’m impressed,” I breathe.
We check in at the gate, and the course provides us with steel putters and a fluorescent yellow ball that’s easy to see under the glare of the lights. That’s a relief, because I’m sure I’m going to struggle to hit the damn thing into the hole, seeing that there are literally castles and plastic fire-breathing dragons decorating the course.
