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He smiles, the corners of his mouth curling into a cocky grin. “You’re on.”
“Uh-oh.” Sofia winces. “I hope it’s only one round. Mari’s right about me being kind of a lightweight when it comes to alcohol.”
I smile at her and set my hand on her shoulder. “You can have as much or as little as you want. I’m driving you.”
“Wow, Pastor.” Mariana tosses her hair as she bends forward to putt. “Getting the young people drunk. Don’t worry—” she smiles slowly “—we won’t tell Dad.” Her tone has that usual playfulness, but I sense an underlying edge to her words.
If you’re going to act like a father figure, I’m going to treat you like one.
I swallow and lower my head to Sofia’s ear. “You know I would never try to get you or Mariana drunk, right? You can tell your dad whatever you want.”
“Of course. You don’t even have to say it.” Sofia frowns at Mariana as she lowers her voice. “She’s already drunk. Or buzzed, I guess. Dad would be happy you’re here to watch out for her.”
The thought isn’t the slightest bit comforting. Fuck me, I don’t want to act as Mariana’s elderly chaperone. Not after having my mouth all over her body just a week ago.
She’smine.
But she’s not. She never will be, and I must come to terms with it, however much my body is battling my head.
These troubling thoughts drift away like smoke as the game continues. Zac seems to love the competition. And it’s cathartic for me to be able to score on him when he has his hands all over Mariana’s bare skin.
The holes become a battlefield. Every successful shot from one of us is met with a smirk, a raised eyebrow, a snarky comment. The girls look on, a mix of amusement and bafflement on their faces.
We’re both acting like children, and I started it—the pastor who’s over a decade older than him.
I promised myself I wouldn’t do anything stupid tonight. Yet here I am, acting like a fool and unable to stop myself.
“Damn, Pastor!” Zac shouts when I manage to score another hole in one. He wrinkles his nose. “Is it alright if I swear in front of you?”
I roll my eyes. “I’m not your mom.”
Zac smirks as he putts his ball. It ends up in a tricky position just at the edge of a small hill on the course. I watch as he aligns his shot, his brow furrowed in concentration. With a quick, fluid motion, he strikes the ball, and it rolls up the hill...only to roll right back down again. I look away to hide my smile.
“Maybe the Holy Spirit isn’t with you today, Zac.” I pat his shoulder.
Mariana’s eyes grow huge. She grabs my arm and pulls me in the direction of the next hole. “I need to talk to my boss for a minute.”
I ought to be dreading whatever she has to say. I’ve been acting like an ass for the last half hour. She’s probably going to give me a scolding, but holy fuck, she smells so good. It’s wonderful to have her to myself after what I’ve had to witness all evening.
“What is going on with you?” she asks as soon as we’re out of earshot.
I can’t tell her I’m raging with jealousy.
Even though she must know.
“Just trying to make the most out of the evening. It’s awkward being as old as I am and—”
“Oh no.” Mariana raises one finger in the air. “You don’t get to use the old man excuse. Not when I feel like I stepped into a time machine and have just met high school Brandon. The star point guard with the prom queen girlfriend. The guy who flushed nerds’ heads in the toilet for fun.”
I laugh, and the tension leaves my shoulders in an instant. “Do you think I went to high school in an eighties movie?”
She widens her eyes innocently. “That was when you went to high school, wasn’t it?”
I step forward. “Watch it, young lady.”
Her smile fades, and heat tingles over my skin.
Fuck.
