AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She fiddled through some shirts. “What?”
“Arguing over how you dress?”
“Since I was a kid. You’d think she’d be used to it by now, but I guess since she owns her own boutique, she assumes what I wear will reflect on her.”
I shoved my hands into my pockets. “She’s right, though.”
Gemma shot her eyes up to me, a hanger in her hands like a weapon. “Excuse me?”
With the way her gaze narrowed and her tongue darted out to wet her lips, she reminded me of a snake. She could probably taste my fear on her tongue. And, damn it all to hell, it made my dick twitch.
“There is a dress code,” I said, earning a quaint little sneer out of her. I lifted a shoulder. Even if there weren’t rules about proper attire, I still liked getting a rise out of her.
“Well, seeing as how you are neither a mother nor a daughter, I think you should be quiet about this particular argument.”
Glad to be off shaky ground with her—even if this ground was largely covered in mines—I leaned against a clothing rack, checking out the gloves displayed on the table next to it. “I heard you got a new car.” I found a glove I liked and put it on. “I didn’t think you knew how to drive.”
“I know how to drive. I choose not to.” She ripped a skirt and shirt off their hangers and gave me the evil eye on her way to the dressing room as I practiced my swing with an imaginary club.
On my second swing, I noticed she’d left the door to the dressing room slightly ajar, lending me an accidental view of her as she pulled her T-shirt over her head to reveal a blue bra. With her lithe curves and hair, she was like some kind of forest nymph, natural, almost ethereal, a breath of fresh air. And I inhaled as deeply as I could.
Which made me sneeze and Gemma’s head shot over to me. She frowned at me, slamming the door. “Get enough of the show?”
I slapped my palm over my forehead and dragged it down my cheek with a groan. “Actually, no,” I said, loud enough that she would hear. “It was an accident. You were the one who left the door open.”
A few mumbled words came from the other side before the door opened again, and she strutted out in her new attire.
“You look nice.”
“Shut up.”
I waved for her to lead the way toward the counter, where I settled the tab and rented a bag of clubs. I offered to carry it for her, but she insisted she could do it—yet stumbled under the weight when she threw the strap over her shoulder.
Outside, Caroline formally introduced Gemma to her friends and was met with a chorus of how she looked so much like her mom. Caroline wrapped her arm around her daughter, eating up the compliments while I tried to push the picture of Gem in her bra out of my mind.
I thought of how much a new pair of cleats would cost, how the trees had started to turn orange. How the wind picked up and would affect my swing, and how Gemma’s bangs might settle in front of her eyes with each gust of air and how her nipples might pebble in the cool air.
Goddamn it.
I stalked away from the group, waiting until the caddies arrived with our golf carts. Frank and Caroline hopped in the first one, leaving Gemma and me to the second. When I got behind the wheel, she plopped down next to me with a sigh. “You’re going to be insufferably good at this, aren’t you?”
I only grinned as I drove us away.
At the first hole, Caroline started the round off, followed by Frank in his traditional argyle socks and cap. Next, Gemma stepped up to the tee, swung, and missed.
Frank coached her from a few feet away. “That’s okay, try again. Keep your eye on the ball and follow through with your swing.”
She tried again, digging up some earth.
“Don’t worry about that.” Frank pushed it back in with his toe. “Take another crack at it.”
Caroline agreed. “Nobody’s keeping score.”
“I am,” I volunteered with a raised hand.
Gemma pursed her lips at me before taking a third and fourth swing. Then she hauled off and threw the ball down the fairway. Even then, it didn’t get very far.
“That’s okay, that’s okay,” Frank said with a clap. “We’ll work on it. Jay, you’re up.”
