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“I sure did!” Dallie beamed at her. “What do you think, Kenny? About the best putt this woman ever hit. A little strong, but she had the right idea.”
Kenny felt sick. Francesca’s ball had stopped barely ten inches above the cup. Even she could tap it in from there. If Emma didn’t put the ball close on her next putt, she wouldn’t have a chance at a tie. And he no longer believed she had it in her to put it close. Her behavior had grown too erratic. He had to do something.
His heart raced. He moved toward Dallie. “I’ve got an idea for a new contest, Dallie. Francesca and me. I only get one putt, she gets two. What do you say, Francie? You’re not even a foot away, and I’m over twenty-five feet. If I don’t make my putt, you win.”
Francesca shaped her lips into a little girl’s pout that was at complete odds with her barracuda brain. “Absolutely not! Emma and I are having fun, aren’t we, Emma?”
Emma’s complexion had turned green beneath her sunglasses, and he knew she’d figured out that more was at stake here than a simple game of golf. “As a matter of fact, it might be a good idea if Kenny—”
“Oh, no, you don’t!” Francesca settled a hand on her slim hip. “Kenny’s one of the best putters on the tour. Even from that far away, he’ll probably put it in, and then I’ll lose. At least I have a chance with you.” She pointed one manicured fingernail toward Kenny’s ball. “Hit it, Emma.”
Kenny squeezed his eyes shut. Francesca was going to sink her putt. But could Emma put hers in in two? Not a chance if she didn’t get it close. “Hit it smooth.” His jaw was so tightly clenched it ached. “All you have to do is put it up there.”
She lined up properly, but the club head wobbled as she took it back. He closed his eyes . . . heard Ted groan . . . opened his eyes . . .
She’d left it short by two and a half feet.
His ball now rested nearly three feet below the cup, while Dallie’s was less than a foot above. If both women sank their putts, it would be a tie. But Emma’s putt was farther.
“My turn!” Francesca said.
His ball was away, and it wasn’t her turn. He waited for someone to correct her, and, when nobody did, started to say something himself only to hold back at the last second. If he said anything, they’d all stare at him as if he’d twisted the head off a kitten. His blood boiled, and he could feel himself beginning to lose what remained of his self-control.
Francesca stepped up. “Do you think I should putt with my sunglasses on or off?” she asked her husband.
Of all the idiotic questions! His entire future was at stake, and Francesca was worried about her sunglasses!
Dallie, however, acted as if her question was perfectly reasonable. “I guess that’s up to you. However you feel comfortable.”
“Are you going to keep your sunglasses on?” Francesca called across the green to Emma.
Emma turned to him and Kenny felt himself losing it.
“I don’t know,” she said. “What should I do, Kenny?”
“Don’t worry about the fucking sunglasses!”
Francesca frowned at his explosion. “Little pitchers,” she said with a pointed look at Ted.
Ted sighed.
Dallie grinned.
Kenny felt as if the top of his head had blown off.
Francesca moved into position. “This is so exciting. I’ve never won before, and even I can make this. You won’t be upset if I win, will you, Emma? I’m not actually very good, but—Oops.”
Yes! Kenny could barely contain a whoop of victory as Francesca’s putt caught the lip of the cup and rolled past six inches.
“Bloody stupid game!”
Oh, yes! Yes! Now that the pressure was off, even Emma could do this. She had two chances to win this thing for him and only a two-and-a-half-foot putt. His sexy, determined, Emma!
He slipped in front of her, turning his back to the rest of them so no one else could hear. Every one of his senses was fully alert as he willed her to concentrate. “Now listen to me, sweetheart. Pay attention to every word I’m saying. You’ve only got a two-and-a-half-foot putt, and you have two chances to get it in. You can do this. I want you to line up nice and straight and take that club head back smooth, not like you did last time. I don’t want to see any wobble. And hold yourself completely still. Nothing moves except your arms, you understand? Take the putter straight back, then bring it through the ball right toward the hole. Now do you have any questions? Any questions at all?”
She bit her lip and peered up at him from beneath the brim of her straw hat. “Do you love me even a little bit?”
Oh, God Not now! Not this! Shit! Wasn’t this just like a woman! He bit back a stream of expletives and tried to speak reasonably. “We’ll talk about it after we’re done, all right?”
