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Unfortunately, Skeet Cooper had to open his big damn mouth. “Aim a little more to the left, Francie, or that ball’s gonna end up in Tulsa.”
Francesca gave him her thousand-watt television star smile, adjusted her stance, drew back the putter and hit the ball so hard it flew down the green, past the cup, and nearly hit Kenny’s ball on the opposite fringe.
Teddy groaned. “Mommm . . .”
“Beastly game.”
Dallie lifted one eyebrow. “I thought you said it was a simple matter of physics.”
She stood on her tiptoes and planted a kiss on his jaw. “I’ve never been good with science.”
Francesca’s wild putt had given Kenny a reprieve, but, as his gaze flew back to Emma, he knew the match was far from over. She had such a death grip on his putter that her knuckles had turned white. Somehow he had to relax her, but he was so rigid with rage and resentment, he couldn’t speak.
Ted moved up next to her. “Let me show you how to hold the club, Lady Emma.” He peeled the putter from her fingers, then repositioned it in her hand. “You need a firm grip, but not that tight. And the important thing is to stay completely still over the ball. That’s the reason Mom can’t putt; she’s always moving around. Mainly talking.” He stepped back.
Emma needed a hell of a lot more instruction than that! Kenny strode toward her. “Since Francesca missed, you don’t have to get it in the cup on your first putt, but you have to get it close. Aim right for the cup. And hold the club a little lower. Keep your head still. Just do everything Ted said.”
He’d meant to reassure her, but her knuckles grew pale again as she resumed her death grip on his putter.
Ted shot him an annoyed look, but Kenny had too much at stake to stand idly back and allow her to screw this up for him. “Move your arms, but keep everything else completely still. The motion comes from your shoulders, do you understand? Take the club back and then move it right through the ball in one smooth motion. Got it?”
Instead of listening to him, her grip grew even tighter as she moved behind the ball. He realized he’d been thrust into his worst nightmare. He’d been forced to hand control of his life over to someone else. And not just anyone, but a domineering woman who professed to love him. It was his childhood all over again.
His eyes felt gritty as she drew back the club and tapped the ball. It barely rolled four feet before it came to a stop.
“The cup’s up there!” he exclaimed. “You’re not even close!”
“I didn’t want to hit it too hard like Francesca.”
He ground his teeth. “Francesca had a downhill putt. Yours is uphill. You need to hit an uphill harder.”
“Well, you might have told me that first instead of bombarding me with all that other twaddle.”
Twaddle!
He realized Dallie was staring at him, and his gaze was even more censorious than before. “Francie, you’re away. This time it’s uphill. Just try to get it close, okay?”
“Of course, darling.”
She lined up all crooked again, and Kenny shot Skeet a lethal look, daring him to intercede. Unfortunately, he’d picked the wrong person to intimidate because it was his own turncoat caddy who betrayed him.
“Move your right foot back, Mom, or you’re going to hit it way to the left.”
Francesca did as he suggested, then stopped to push a lock of hair back from her face. “If I’d known I was going to play, I’d have brought barrettes. You don’t happen to have a barrette, do you, Emma?”
“I don’t think so. Let me check my purse.”
These women were going to kill him! “Emma doesn’t have a barrette!” Kenny snagged Emma’s arm as she started to head back to the cart. “I took her last one this morning.”
Francesca gave him a snooty look, held back her hair with one hand, grasped the putter with the other, and sent the ball flying up the green.
Kenny caught his breath. She’d hit it way too hard, but by some miracle her line was straight. If the ball caught the back of the cup, it was going to drop. It was going to . . .
The ball clipped the right edge of the cup, and Kenny’s heart stopped as he waited for it to fall.
It wobbled, held the edge, then rolled past.
Francesca let out a whoop. “I almost made it! Did you see that? Did you see it, Dallie?”
