I’m sadly glued to the television as Gray moves from hole to hole, zooming to the top of the leader’s board. At one point, I think I even cheered out loud. The same can’t be said for Jackson, who is snoring. I threw chips at him once to get him to stop, but he shoved it off his face with his hand and went back to snoring.
At the last hole, Gray struck once and got so close to the hole, I’m sure he could almost taste it. He’s standing at it now, ready to baby it in the hole. I watch as he chooses his club and I’m literally sitting on pins and needles. The camera zooms in on him, the wind ripples through his hair, and I’m holding my breath as I watch him swing and connect with the little white ball. It rolls towards the hole… and sinks. Cheers erupt, and I’m not any different as I screech out in celebration, waking Jackson up. I immediately want to call him and congratulate him.
I reach for my phone just when I see Cammie running out and hugging him. I want to bust the television screen. Gray returns her hug, though I can’t say he was overly friendly. He’s shaking hands with some of the other men and players. I’m still frowning at the television, wondering how I can kill Cammie Riverton from afar.
The reporter pulls Gray to the side and I breathe a little easier because it cuts Cammie out of the picture enough that she doesn’t show up on my screen.
“That was outstanding, Gray. Can you walk our viewers through that last hole and how you rebounded after getting that bogey early in the match?”
“It’s all a blur, honestly, Pauline,” he says, laughing easily. “I just went into competition mode. I want to hurry and get this match done because I’m heading to Kentucky to spend the week with my woman.”
“Does this mean that golf’s most notorious bachelor is off the market?” she asks.
“Completely. My heart belongs in Kentucky. Now if you’ll excuse me, Pauline, I have a plane to catch,” he says, and then, adding with a wink, “See you soon, sweet lips.”
My stomach flutters. What did Gray just do? Oh my God! Then I fall back on the couch giggling like a school girl. Jackson’s glares from my waking him up again can’t even stop the happiness surging through me.
Holy crap! I think Gray really likes me!
I’m more than half asleep when I hear it: a noise coming from the living room. At first I think I dreamed it because I don’t hear anything else right away. I sit up in bed and do my best to focus my eyes in the dark. There’s a faint light in the hall coming from the bathroom, and it helps keep me from being completely blind. I reach over beside the head of my bed and wrap my fingers around the baseball bat I keep there. My fingers tighten against the wrapped handle as I wait. I hear the noise again. This time, it’s definitely real and definitely coming from the living room. I can no longer write it off to just sleeping.
I carefully get out of the bed, clutching the bat as tight as I can. My heart is pounding in my ears and bumping so hard against my chest, it’s a wonder I can breathe. Quietly, I walk through the hallway. As I near the end of it, I can make out a shadowy figure standing by the couch, bending over. I pick up my speed, walking quickly and forgetting silence in hopes I can attack fast and hard. He has to have heard me because he jerks up just as I swing with the bat, claiming the lamp on my sofa table. I close my eyes tight as I hear my lamp shatter, then wait for the dull thud of hitting the person breaking in.
That sound never comes because the bat is jerked out of my hand. I try to hold on and wrestle with it, but it only succeeds in bringing me closer to the person. So, instead, I let go all at once. I hear a muffled, “Motherfucker!” before the figure goes barreling back and falls on the ground.
I take off running towards the front door, deciding there’s no way I’d win in a fight with this asshole. If it had been a woman, sure, and even some men, I think I could take on. But this man was strong when we were fighting over the bat and his voice was very male. Banger didn’t raise a fool. Run now, live tomorrow.
“Jesus Christ!”
I stop with the door halfway open. I know that voice. I hit the light switch by the door. It takes me a few minutes before my eyes adjust, and when they do, it’s to discover Gray lying there looking pissed—but somehow still sexy as hell. He’s sprawled out on the floor, which I can only assume is where he landed, and he’s sitting among the broken glass of my favorite lamp.
“Gray?” I’m sure I’m hallucinating. Heck, maybe I am still asleep.
“Fucking hell, Cooper. Are you trying to kill me?”
“What? No. I mean… Wait… What are you doing here?”
“I caught a red-eye so I could get home to my woman sooner! Now I’m thinking I shouldn’t have bothered.”
I close the door slowly and lean on it while I still my breath.