Chapter. 25

The giant mermaid water fixture gurgled in anticipation of our match-up.

Damon frowned. “You said you were going to prove you can golf.”

“I am,” I replied, stretching my arms.

“This isn’t a real course!” he declared, gesturing to the array of windmills, jack-in-the-boxes, and mini ferris wheels.

“Do you have five hours to spare for a full eighteen holes, Damon?” The partially rubber putter helped me balance as I drew a foot back and bent my knees. “Or would you prefer I film and edit myself? Send a score card?”

Apprehension lined Damon’s face as I switched to the other leg for a nice stretch.

I grinned at his silence, my victory. “Neither do I. Plus, this place has a driving range!”

“Fine. But this counts as one of our weekly ‘dates.’” Damon grabbed a club. “Can’t even train with these flimsy—”

“Now, you just sound elitist,” I said, plucking a neon pink ball from the bucket.

Bristling, Damon avoided the mini avalanche of tiny balls by snatching the closest one. “This is the golfer’s equivalent to a chef making boxed mac and cheese to prove their craft.”

“This course is full of challenges! InsideBiz surveys indicate a strong finish promotes a strong relationship.”

Damon crossed his arms. “That’s only if they both finish strong. Otherwise, one resents the other.”

“Good dating advice,” I deadpanned, strolling past him. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I am going to go for the putt-putt cup.”

I strode up to the first challenge: a twisty curved path with foam gumdrop blocks.

Damon crossed his arms. “This is ridiculous.”

“This is strategy.” I wagged my hips, surveyed the course, and thwacked the ball. It sped through the curve, hopped over a hill, then danced back around to the blocks, clicking off them like a neon pinball in a machine before clipping the edge of the hole.

“Ah, so close!” I slid to the left to make room for the ever-unimpressed Damon. “Let’s see what you’ve got, hotshot.”

Damon dropped his ball and shuffled it with the bottom of his foot. “Too bad the actual tournament is more about sand pits, trees, and actual distance.”

“This should be a piece of cake, then.”

“Yes.” Damon swung, sending the ball flying. It swirled around the curve only to roll back from the hill and nestle against a block. Groaning, he stormed after his ball. “Real courses don’t have that!”

“Mmhmm.” Putter dangling between my fingers, I sauntered past him. “Bet boxed mac and cheese is sounding pretty good right now.”

“Winner picks dinner!” he declared, squaring up for his next shot.

“I thought this was our date?”

“We have to eat.” He shrugged. “Now, stop distracting me.”

I clutched my wrist behind my back, rocking back and forth on my feet. “There will be other people talking at the golf tourney. Especially if we’re negotiating—”

“Alina!” He gestured to the ball.

I bit back my smile. “Sorry, I didn’t know you were taking this so seriously.”

After two more hits, he knocked his ball into the hole and exhaled sharply. “Your turn.”

One tap, and I was good.

Damon scooped the balls out and handed me my pink one. “Just wait ‘til the next hole… I used to be a caddy, you know.”

“That won’t protect you from the moat.”

“The what? Are you—” He shook his head and approached the mini castle with an automated drawbridge. “You know what? That’s fine. It’s all about timing.”

Timing. For whatever reason, fate had decided three years in the past was far enough for me. I was beginning to agree. I could still save my dad’s company and my legacy. I’d invested in a bunch of stocks I knew would do well in the next few years, Gibbons Group was on the rise, and I’d be getting married to receive enough shares to push Martin Enterprises in the right direction. I could really be its leader within two years! I could save everybody!

Damon shot through the drawbridge on his first try and turned to me with a triumphant smile.

“Congratulations?” I teased. “You still need to get it in the hole, darling.”

When my ball hit the corner of the drawbridge and fell into the moat, I gasped. “No! We are going to storm this castle!”

Chuckling, Damon handed me a towel from the station to dry it off and try again.

The rest of the holes flew by in a blur of colorful courses, banter, and laughter.

Damon got a hole in one on the ferris wheel hole and raised his arms in triumph.

“Ohhh, the professional, there he is!” I jeered, giving him a high-five strong enough to sting.

I got a hole in one on the carousel one and turned to him immediately, spinning into a curtsey as he clapped and hollered.

“Finally! Do that on the next one and maybe you can drive the cart or something,” he teased with his charming smile.

“Hey, I’m winning!” I protested, chasing him around the course.

When all was said and done, I beat him by three strokes and took a commemorative photo of us on my phone, Damon arching his eyebrow in the background like “Really?”

“You did great,” he told me, depositing our balls at the entrance. “But I have one more test.”

“I can take it!”

He led me to the driving range and placed a bucket of balls next to me. “Let’s see your range.”

“Okay.” My heart rate picked up as I lined up my shot. This was all about power and precision. I knew I could do it.

Sucking in a breath, I swung hard. The ball sailed to the far reaches of the court. “Aha! See?”

“Alright, one more time, and you can come to the tournament.” Damon dropped another ball in front of me. “That was fantastic, just a little off on the release. May I?”

“You may.”

I stepped back, expecting him to hit one, but Damon actually sidled up behind me, his hands gently guiding my hips and wrists.

His breath warmed my ear, sending shivers down my spine. “You’ll want to stay tight, right here.”

Right here . It wasn’t the worst place to be.