Levi leaned against the doorframe of her office. “We need you there. What’s the problem?”
She came around her desk and propped a hip against the edge, crossing her arms over her chest.
His eyes dropped to her waist, then rose slowly.
She blinked and glanced away. She had to stop thinking he waslooking-looking at her. “The problem is,” she said emphatically, “I suck at golf. I’ll embarrass myself. I’ll embarrassyou. Believe me, you don’t want me around a bunch of balls.”
His face went still, and then a slow smile slid across his mouth.
She brought her hand to her forehead. “Forget I said that.” She looked up. “You know what I meant.”
“I do. But you don’t have to be good at golf. If you hit one in the trees, just drop another ball and move on.”
“You mean after I’ve lost several hundred in the woods?”
He shrugged.
“You want to humiliate me, don’t you?”
He turned without responding, but there was a smile on his face and a swagger to his step as he walked away.
“Shit,” she muttered.
“Don’t forget to pick up golf attire from the store,” he called from down the hall. “On the house.”
* * *
The one thingabout dating a stockbroker who wore bow ties? He liked to play golf, so Emily knew how to play the game. In theory.
She tucked the fitted white polo shirt from the hotel store into her new navy golf shorts, the fabric smooth over her belly, the shorts fitting nicely against her thighs. She might not possess giant jugs, but she had a flat stomach and her butt wasn’t half bad. But for someone athletically built, she had a hell of a mental block when it came to golfing. Or so her ex-boyfriend had told her. Typically, with a look of annoyance. And a roll of his eyes.
God, he’d been an ass.
No more dating asses. The next guy she dated would never tell her what to do, and he wouldn’t look down on her either. She was accomplished, dammit.
And she’d just made an argument for why dating Levi was impossible, even if he hadn’t already dated her sister. And was her boss.
Levi told Emily what to do daily. He even told her what to do the one night she wasn’t technically on duty, by shoving her out the door and into a cab.
She took a deep breath, held her head high, and strode out of the employee exit toward the first tee near the pro shop. Levi had said they needed her on the golf course because the entire Shin Electronics group had decided to play this morning. Wes had made good on his promise to close the course for a couple hours to allow the company exclusive play, and Levi wanted her and her translation skills present.
“I can do this,” she said as she caught sight of Levi, his brothers, and their guests. But her hands began to shake.
Levi turned around, scanning her—his gaze lingering on her legs.
He was a guy; of course he looked at women’s legs. Nothing unusual about that. Didn’t mean anything. Hunt looked too. It was just normal guy stuff.
She stopped beside Levi. “I don’t have clubs.”
He lifted his chin, and Wes disappeared into the pro shop.
Wes returned seconds later with a full set of golf clubs and handed them to a caddy nearby, pulling out a putter and driver. “Test these out. You’re tall for a woman, but these should work.”
Great. They expected her to swing with an audience?
Emily propped the putter on the ground and bent her legs. “This is fine.”
“What about the driver?” Levi said.
