If for Any Reason (Nantucket Love Story #1) - Courtney Walsh Page 0,40
him at his aunt’s cottage for a cookout with his friends and then they were all heading down to the beach to watch the fireworks.
It was a big deal because it was the first time they’d be around other people, and while it was his people and not hers, it was a step—and he couldn’t wait to feel like they were an actual couple.
He stood in the hot July sun, wearing his one pair of nice khakis, a navy-blue golf club polo, and a white Titleist cap, his caddying uniform. His roommate, Jeb, stood a few feet away, polishing a nine iron from the bag in his charge.
When two older men started up the hill toward the first tee, JD’s stomach dropped.
Alan Ackerman and one of his hoity-toity friends were heading right for them.
As soon as the pair of older men reached the tee, Jeb took a step toward them and extended a hand toward Isabelle’s dad. “Morning, sir. I’m Jeb.”
Alan shook Jeb’s hand. “Good to meet you, Jeb, but it looks like you’ve got my friend’s clubs.” He turned to JD. “Your name, son?”
“JD.”
“Prefer my caddies not to give advice,” Alan said. “Just give me the clubs I ask for, and we’ll get along fine.”
“Works for me, sir,” JD said.
Alan nodded.
What followed was the tensest four-and-a-half-hour round of golf JD had ever caddied for—and it had nothing to do with the actual game.
When they reached the fourteenth hole, JD wanted to correct Alan on his club choice but stayed silent. (Alan landed in the sand.) At the sixteenth hole, the other man asked Alan about his daughter, Isabelle, and Jeb’s eyes shot to JD with all the subtlety of a freight train.
JD remained nonchalant, in spite of his racing heart.
“She’s heading into her senior year,” Alan said. “She’ll no doubt end up at one of the Ivies—we’re thinking she might study law.”
Again, JD wanted to correct Alan. He wanted to tell the man that his daughter had no interest in an Ivy League school or in becoming a lawyer. She wanted to travel the world and explore new cultures, maybe work with underprivileged kids. Mostly he wanted to tell Alan not to put his daughter in a box because Isabelle could do anything she wanted to do—but she needed time to figure out what that was.
And he wanted to tell the man that he was in love with his daughter, that he would make her happy—he knew he would—if they could get past the fact that he was a golf caddie working his way through university.
But he didn’t say any of those things.
Instead, he walked behind Alan all the way to the end of the eighteenth hole, accepted a decent tip from the man, then made his way to the locker room to change for his date with Isabelle.
But the whole day had shone a light on what the two of them were up against—years of tradition and money and expectations.
He met Isabelle later on that evening, struck once again by her beauty and her goodness. How she’d managed to turn into the person she had living with someone as privileged as Alan Ackerman, he didn’t know.
But it made him love her even more.
She stepped into his embrace and he held her as the seconds ticked by, wishing they could escape every prying eye from the outside world, wishing there was nothing to live up to but love. But the world didn’t work like that.
He kissed her, then led her out back, where several of his friends had already gathered, most of them having gotten the holiday off of work. JD needed the extra money, so he chose to spend his morning at the club, though now he almost wished he hadn’t.
“Are you sure these people won’t say anything?” Isabelle asked, pulling her hand from his.
“They’re good people,” he said. “But if it makes you feel better, we can keep our distance.”
Her eyes scanned the crowd—not a single face she knew.
“Or we can leave,” he suggested. “I don’t mind going to our beach and watching the fireworks from there.”
She shook her head. “No, I want to meet your friends.”
He smiled. “Good, because I want to show you off a little.”
She laughed, smoothing the line of concern on her forehead and settling his own worries, at least for the moment.
They ate burgers off the grill and drank wine coolers and he introduced her to everyone he knew. Oddly, Isabelle blended right into his world, as if the whole idea that