“It looks like he’s whispering in her ear as they move along.” Then he points to Duncan and his husband. “Let’s not be like them.”
“Is that dirt in his nose?”
I feel Wilder lean closer to get a better look. “Shit, it is,” he says. “Okay, if we end up falling, tuck and roll and I’ll take the hit. But for the record, I don’t plan on falling. I’m sturdy as an ox. All we need to do is take our time, concentrate, and work together. This isn’t a race. This is about communication.”
“Understood.” I lightly nod. “But given our situation, don’t you think we should bicker a little? You know, to show everyone that we’re here for a reason? But then surprise them when we end up pulling out the win? Like classic chaos on the outside, but when push comes to shove, we excel at everything we do.”
“Yeah, I like that.” He pauses for a moment and then says, “Chaos I can do.” He clears his throat and speaks slightly louder so the couples around us can hear. “Can you not do that?”
Brad S and his wife, in front of us, glance in our direction from the sound of Wilder’s voice. A look of surprise and understanding falls over their expressions. Almost like they’re trying to say been there, done that.
Well then, I guess it’s time to put on a show.
Squaring my shoulders and wanting to match his energy, I say, “Do what? Tell you exactly what to do so we can win?” I derisively snort. “Remember, I’m the one who works for a putting company, not you.”
“Yeah, you edit content written by others,” he shoots back. “Strike me if I’m wrong, but you’re not out on the greens, teaching Tiger Woods how to zone in his putting. You have noidea what you’re doing when you have a stick in your hand. Trust me.”
Hey!
I glance back at him, murder in my eyes.
I know exactly what to do with a…ahem…stick in my hand.
“Don’t look at me like that.” He lifts his chin. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
I make a mental note to talk to Wilder about insults that we can toss at each other while not going below the belt, if you know what I mean.
“Not what you were saying two weekends ago when you were panting and squealing from my…hands.”
“Squealing, really?” he asks with a gigantic eye roll that I’m pretty sure could have been spotted from space.
“Yeah, squealing. People thought a farm walked into the apartment building from the amount of hee-hawing coming from your lips.” I nearly let out my own impression of the donkey braying sound that’s on repeat in my head, but Sanders clears his throat in front of us, bringing our attention back to the golf course and the competition. “Sorry,” I whisper with an apologetic smile.
“Apologies,” Wilder replies, but then after a few seconds, he clears his throat, and in a very sarcastic voice, he says, “Wife, you’re so good at this. I can’t wait to see how you eat up all these men, just like you swallowed all those men in college.”
Jesus, Wilder.
He pokes me in the back, encouraging me to shoot back. So I turn to look at him and say, “Pretty sure you were the one eating in college.”
“You’ve never had a problem with my munching.”
Ugh, why does he have to be so quick?
“And you, uh, you’ve never had a problem with my, uh, swallowing,” I shoot back, proud of myself, but that pridequickly vanishes as Sanders walks right up to us this time, blocking us out from the rest of the couples.
“Hello,” he says, pressing his hands together.
“Hi,” Wilder and I say at the same time.
“Now, I understand there might be some growing tension between the two of you, and maybe you aren’t entirely comfortable with not only being here but being tied up together and put to task within a half hour of arriving. But please, for the sake of peace at the camp, save the snarky commentary for our lash-out sessions. While we’re together as a group, we need to keep the harmony.”
My cheeks flame with embarrassment, because I’m usually one to follow directions and listen to the rules.
“Sorry about that,” Wilder says and then lets out a heavy breath. “Tension is high.”
“Yes, sorry,” I say again. “Long, tense road trip, and now we’re tied up together without taking a breather. Not sure I can remember the last time we spent this much time together consecutively.”
Understanding crosses Sanders’s face, thankfully. “I get it, but please don’t disturb the peace of others.”
