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I shrugged. “Show me what you like to do.” Oliver grinned and slid his hands lower to cup my ass and haul me in closer. I hummed as he dipped his head down to kiss my neck before wiggling away. “Seriously, though. What’s your favorite thing to do when you’re not working?”
Oliver scoffed. “I’m never not working. This is the most time I’ve taken off work in a decade.”
My eyes widened. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. “But I have an idea.”
An hour later we were getting out of Oliver’s car at what looked like an old hotel on the outskirts of town. The car ride had been filled with basic getting to know you questions, asking about siblings, pets, and hobbies. I learned Oliver had one sister who was expecting, he hated being called Ollie, and his best friend was Grant, the attorney who was working on our divorce papers. When I stepped out of the car, I shielded my eyes from the blinding sun. “What’s this?”
“You’ll see.” His blue-gray eyes twinkled and he grinned like a little kid.
We approached the building that had the words Hotel Sunrise on a huge light-up sign above the door. Oliver pulled the door open and gestured for me to enter. Stepping inside was like going back in time. There was a college-aged guy wearing a bellhop uniform standing behind an ancient front desk who smiled at us as we entered.
“Welcome to Hotel Sunrise. Are you here for drinks, a round of golf, or both?”
I frowned. “Say what now?” I looked around for clues and shot Oliver a look. I definitely hadn’t seen a golf course behind the hotel.
Oliver’s warm hand landed on my shoulder. “Hotel Sunrise is a hotel that’s been converted into an indoor minigolf course. I thought it might be a fun way to get to know each other and do something interesting at the same time.”
“That’s so cool.” I looked between Oliver and the bellhop. “I think we’ll skip the drinks. Just a round of golf.”
The bellhop gave us our putters and let us choose ball colors—I chose blue and Oliver chose orange—and sent us on our way with instructions for how to follow the course. I followed Oliver as he led the way to the first hole.
“Do you want to go first or should I?”
“After you, husband.” I’d intended to keep it light, but a wave of sadness crashed over me with the realization that we had less than twenty-four hours together before I got on a plane to Virginia and left Vegas behind. I pulled out my phone to check my email while he placed his ball and lined up his putter. Still nothing. As I tucked it away, a lump formed in my throat. “I have a confession,” I blurted before he could make his first move.
Oliver straightened and turned to face me. “What’s wrong?”
I bit my lower lip and looked at my feet for a moment. “I’m starting to remember things, you know, from the wedding.”
“Oh,” he murmured. “Do you want to tell me about it?”
I nodded. “There was a lot of drinking. I mean alotof drinking.”
He laughed. “That much was obvious.”
“And dancing. You’re a really good dancer.”
He shook his head, his dark hair falling across his forehead. “Hardly.”
With a shrug, I continued. “I remember sharing cheese fries and laughing a lot. And… I remember our first married kiss.”
He was quiet for what felt like a long time. “You can?” When I nodded shyly, he stepped in close, until I could feel the heat radiating from his body. “I’m really glad you can.” As he lowered his head and kissed me gently, I let out a sigh.
A moment later, we stepped apart, silence stretching between us for so long it started to feel like tension. “We should, um, get back to playing, I guess,” I mumbled.
Oliver nodded decisively and cleared his throat. He turned once again to face the putting green and looked at his ball for several seconds before speaking. “So, what’s your dream job?” he asked as he swung his putter.
I watched his ball glide toward the end of the green before realizing he wasn’t looking at his ball at all. He was watching me, his gaze soft, a small smile on his face. Butterflies fluttered through me before I regained my composure and answered. “Stay-at-home husband to a fabulously wealthy celebrity chef, of course.” I winked at him.
With a grin, he rolled his eyes. “Barring that.”
“I don’t know. I wanted to be a vet when I was a kid, but I really like what I’m doing now in corporate communications and graphic design.”
He nodded toward the putting green, gesturing for me to take my turn. “And what’s something nobody knows about you?”
“I can’t tell you all my secrets on the first date.” I put my ball on the starting pad and tapped it, watching it careen down the course.
