The lady touched hers and smiled. “Mistletoe is magical. I love wearing it around the holidays.” She giggled and waved a hand around the room. “I mean, I did get a free round of golf, didn’t I?”
“Yes, you did,” I chuckled. “Maybe you can give me some of your luck? I kind of need it.”
She patted my hand again. “Uh-oh. Are you experiencing the holiday blues? You can tell me about it.”
“Just a little,” I confessed. I glanced at my watch; my tee time was coming up in two minutes. “If you want to hear about it, you can partner up with me. There’s no reason for us to play alone, right?”
Her face brightened. “I would love that. I’ve never played golf with a pro before.”
“How did you know I was a pro?” I asked.
She pursed her lips. “I do watch TV, and I might indulge in a little celebrity gossip every now and again. Needless to say, I recognized you.”
Ryan threw his head back and laughed. “Yeah, I keep waiting for the paparazzi to show up.”
I rolled my eyes. “They’re not coming here. I’m boring to them right now.”
The lady blew out a sigh. “That’s a good thing.”
“I agree,” I said.
Ryan flourished a hand toward the door. “You two are up now. Have fun out there. And Jake, call me soon and we’ll get the guys together.”
“Sounds good to me.”
The lady and I walked outside, and I extended a hand. “I know you know who I am, but I’m Jake Reynolds.”
She clutched my hand and shook. “Margaret Grant. I’m honored to be here with you today.”
Her golf clubs were just outside the door, so I secured them into a cart along with mine. “Do you play golf often?”
Margaret snickered and hopped in the cart. “Not really. I just had the urge to play today.”
I drove us to the first tee box and got out. It’d been a few weeks since I’d been on any golf course, but it felt like coming home when I took my first swing. Being on the course was heaven to me. My ball went straight down the fairway.
“Very nice, Jake,” Margaret praised. “Don’t laugh when I hit mine into the sand trap.”
I stopped at the women’s tee box, and she went out there with her driver. Her form was a little unorthodox, and her swing was unlike anything I’d ever seen, but she hit the ball, and it sailed through the air . . . right into a sand trap.
“Told you,” she said, giggling.
We rode down to the sand trap, and she trudged into it. With one fluid swing, she hit it out, sand flying everywhere. It stopped rolling just a few feet from the hole. I walked over to my ball which was right by the green, while she returned to the golf cart. I tapped it gently with my putting wedge, and it rolled across the green, sinking right into the hole.Birdie.
Margaret cheered from the golf cart. “I can see why you’re one of the best. Nice shot.”
“Thanks.” I hopped back in the cart and drove us around to the other side of the green so she could finish her putt.
“Tell me, why are you experiencing the holiday blues?” Margaret asked, fetching her putter.
We walked out onto the green together, and I reached into the hole to grab my ball. “Let’s just say I’m in love with someone, and I don’t know if she loves me back.”
“Why wouldn’t she? From my first impression of you, I’d say you’re an amazing catch.”
“Thanks,” I said, smiling at her. “Lydia and I have been friends for almost all our lives. We grew up together. She knows me better than anyone and I thought I knew the same about her. But recently, she hasn’t opened up to me like she has before. I don’t know what she’s thinking.”
Margaret giggled. “Most men wouldn’t want to know what we women think about.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “You may be right.”
