A Date to Play Fore - Heidi McLaughlin Page 0,4
shirt. Once my hair is braided and out of the way, I’m ready to go. When I get down to the pro shop, Bryan is outside in a cart with our clubs strapped to the back.
“That was fast,” I call out.
He shrugs. “I had them all ready to go before I even asked you to golf. I figured you’d say yes so I made us a tee time earlier this morning.”
Laughing, I hop in. “Smart.”
The first hole is close by, and luckily, no one is there. We can get right to teeing off. The fairways are plush, and the greens are immaculate. A beautiful course. The wind is strong, but we’re used to playing in various weather conditions and geographical locations. My family and I traveled the world when my dad played in tournaments. What I love about playing golf in Charleston is the ocean.
Bryan walks up to his tee box and stretches. I’m curious to see how he does with his wrist. When he broke it, the doctor said it was one of the worst breaks he’d ever seen. Once his ball is teed up, he gets into place and drives the hell out of it. I watch it sail down the fairway, straight to the green.
“Oh my God, Bryan, that was amazing,” I squeal.
He turns to me and brushes off his shoulders. “I’ve been practicing.”
“I can see that.” He gets in the cart and drives me down to the forward set of tees. “The PGA Tour starts soon. I’m not missing it.”
This is good news and I know our father will be ecstatic. I hug him hard. “And I will be there to support you,” I say to him.
We play the first couple of holes rather quickly and soon catch up to two men on the fourth hole. It’s a par five hole and they’re right in the middle of the fairway. We have to wait to hit until they get at a safe distance away. Closing my eyes, I breathe in the salty sea air. If I didn’t love my job at my Charlotte hospital, I’d move to the beach in a heartbeat.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” Bryan growls.
Heart racing, my eyes snap open. “What?” I gasp.
He points toward the fairway. “Look who it is.”
There’s only one person it could be to earn such a hated look from my brother. And of course, when I focus on the guy about to hit his ball, I recognize his stance. Greyson Jennings has his own style when it comes to golf. I hate the guy, but he’s one of the best. You can’t help but admire how talented he is.
Bryan fumes and clenches the steering wheel. “Of all places he could be, why in the hell is he here?” I’ve been wondering the same thing. Greyson never answered when I asked him. It wouldn’t surprise me if he did it on purpose. The only way he could’ve found out would be through my social media.
Bryan hops out of the cart and reaches for his driver. Eyes wide, I can feel my heart pounding harder. “Bryan, what are you doing?”
He tees up his ball and smiles. “Just having a little fun, sis. If I knock him out, he deserves it.”
This is going to be a disaster. I just know it. The sound of his driver connecting with the ball is so loud it echoes in my ears. I watch it sail through the air, right in the direction toward Greyson. He doesn’t even yell fore, and I’m too shocked to even speak. The ball starts to drop from the sky and when it lands, it’s only about three feet away from Greyson and his best friend, Eli. He jerks around and throws his arms up in the air. Bryan bursts out laughing and flips them both off.
Greyson and Eli jump in their cart and head toward us. This is not what I want. “Just great,” I grumble. “Now look what you did.”
Bryan comes over to me and leans against the cart. “The fucker deserved it. It’s time he knows I’m back in the game.”
The last thing I want is to get in the middle of a testosterone match. I don’t care about seeing who has the bigger balls. When Greyson gets closer, his snarl turns into a smile when he notices me. Definitely not what I want. Bryan steps forward, driver in hand.
“Sorry about that,” my brother taunts, “I didn’t exactly hit what I was aiming for.”
Greyson