The Perfect Putt: A Sweet Boss/Assistant Golf RomCom (More Than a Game Book 2)

29. Ellie Hart

I stare out at the waves as I stir my iced coffee round and round.

“The more you stir, the faster your ice melts and your drink will be watered down,” Molly says as she slides a chocolate croissant in front of me.

“I don’t think I even want it. I just felt bad taking up space without paying,” I say on a sigh. “What’s the croissant for?”

“You look like you could use some chocolate.”

She sits in the seat across from me, staring at me with eyes as blue as the ocean view she’s now blocking. Her gaze is filled with concern.

“What’s going on?” she asks.

“Yesterday Miles had lunch with his dad who–” I pause. Molly would never share information like this, but I still want to be considerate of Miles. “Let’s just say they don’t have the best relationship. And while I was waiting for him to come back, he called Fitz and asked him to come pick him up and to tell me that I should go home for the day. Then this morning he texted me not to worry about coming by his place, but that he’d meet me at the beach tonight to talk.”

“What do you think he wants to talk about?” she asks, leaning over to tear off a piece of my untouched croissant. I push the plate over to her. I don’t know if I can stomach anything until I talk to Miles.

“I don’t know. Lately he’s been different, in a good way.” A smile pulls at my lips. “He’s touched me more and looked at me like I’m more than a friend. Much more than a friend.” My face heats as I recall the way he looked at me on the beach.

Molly smiles. “That’s amazing, Ellie! I’m so happy for you.”

I look down at my drink, thoughts racing through my head so fast I’m not sure what to hold on to. “It’s been so great, but he also hasn’t said anything about changing his mind when it comes to marriage or relationships. And after meeting his dad…”

“You can see why he’s been against it,” Molly finishes my thought.

I lift my head. “Yes, and the thing is I like him a lot, Molls.” I pause. Take a deep breath. “Maybe even more than like him.”

It feels childish to say it that way, but uttering the word would make it feel too real. And if I acknowledge it only for Miles to not feel the same, it would be awful. Who am I kidding? It would be awful even without saying it out loud.

I’m in love with Miles.It probably doesn’t make sense to fall for a man who’s said that he’s against marriage. But love defies logic. It wasn’t logical for Naomi and Owen to fall in love while she was on vacation here, but they did. And I’ve never seen anyone love each other like they did. That’s the kind of love I’ve always wanted. The all-consuming kind. The one where you walk in the room and you don’t see anyone else but that other person. The kind of love that sacrifices.

I know I can’t have that with Miles until he chooses me too. Maybe that’s why it’s so scary. The potential for something wonderful is right within reach, but I have to wait on Miles to grab it.

“Do you think he feels the same?” Molly asks.

I think of the smiles he’s given me, the secret ones reserved just for me. The way he says my nickname and how he held me in his arms when I hugged him on the golf course.

“I do,” I whisper and she gives me an encouraging smile.

“Then maybe he wants to talk to you tonight to tell you that. I mean he invited you to the beach. What’s more romantic than that?”

I bite my lip. My nerves have my stomach swirling like the drink I’m stirring. “We do both love the beach.”

She reaches across the table and grabs my hand, then squeezes it. “Don’t worry about it. Everything will work out. I’ve seen the way he looks at you, there’s no mistaking he has feelings. And if things don’t go the way you expect…”

My heart drops. She squeezes my hand again with a wry smile.

“There’s always Mr. Wilkin’s boat.”

Her words surprise me into a laugh. We end up giggling hysterically together. My nerves begin to dissipate the more we laugh together.

I dab under my eyes with a napkin. “Thanks, Molls, I needed that.”

“I’m always here for you.” She stands up. “Now breathe, and eat your croissant.”

I follow her advice and take in a deep breath. It’s all going to be okay.

I smile and hope I’m right.

I pull my cardigan tight around me as I walk down Wave Way. The palm trees overhead sway with the intensity of the wind. I’m glad I pulled on this sweater before leaving. I was tempted to wear Miles’ sweatshirt, but I worried that it would look weird to wear it two days in a row. So now I’m walking to the beach in jean shorts, a lavender shirt, and a white knit cardigan. I stared in the mirror after getting dressed and imagined Miles telling me he wanted to be more than friends. Several outfit changes later, lavender seemed like the best color for confessing feelings.

The closer I get, the more my stomach swirls and my chest aches. I simultaneously want to run there and slow down at the same time. The wind whips through my hair. Coastal Cove’s usual gentle windchime lullaby has been replaced by wild clanging mixed with the sound of palm fronds fluttering. It’s not the most romantic soundtrack, but our relationship has always been a little more chaotic than a peaceful beach evening.

I smile as I round the corner to the access point. The crash of the waves joins in with the odd chorus, and eventually drowns it out altogether as I walk down the boardwalk. Cold sand greets the soles of my feet. I take a deep breath of salty air to steady myself. In the distance, just out of reach of the tide, is Miles. There’s no one else on the beach tonight, so it’s just us out here.

His hands are in the pockets of his shorts. He’s facing the horizon, which is turning a deep indigo. The last dregs of the sunset burn orange in the sky, like a flickering candle about to go out. The image of his silhouette against the sky is something worthy of a painting. If I was as talented as Jada, I’d run home tonight and paint this moment. But since I’m not, I’ll have to be content with the memory hanging in the gallery of my heart instead.

As I get closer, I notice the tight bunch of his shoulders beneath his white t-shirt. He’s hunched over slightly, probably from the cold since he’s wearing a short sleeve shirt. With a smile on my lips I step up and wrap my arms around his waist.

“Hi,” I say quietly, resting my cheek against his back. His muscles don’t relax at my touch. Instead, they seem to coil tighter. I step back and let my arms fall to my sides.

Maybe he’s nervous. Yes, that’s why he’s so tense. Plus, it’s not like I’ve been very touchy-feely with him in the past. It could have caught him off guard.

He turns to face me and the expression on his face confuses me. His jaw is tight, and his mouth is set in a hard line. Even his eyes are different. They aren’t sparkling or playful. They’re dark and unyielding.

“Is everything okay?” I ask him and for a second his expression softens, but it’s quickly back to stone right after.

“I need to tell you something, and it’s not easy for me.”

I reach out and touch his arm in an attempt to soothe him.

“It’s okay,” I say with a small smile. “You can tell me anything.”

A pained expression overtakes his face.

“No, it’s not like that.” He pushes both his hands through his hair. “Why is this so hard?” he mutters under his breath.

My heart melts. He must be so nervous he doesn’t know how to act.

“Miles, it’s okay, I feel the same way.” I didn’t want to be the first to say it, but maybe if I take the risk he’ll feel comfortable taking it too. “I have feelings for you too. I know it’s hard for you but–”

He shakes his head and the words die in my mouth. His eyes are lined with pain, as dark and tumultuous as the sea.

“No,” he grits out and I feel my heart crack. “That’s not what I came to tell you.”

“What?” My voice breaks.

“I came to say I’m sorry, but I think we need some space.” I swallow, trying to fight the stinging in my eyes as he continues. “You’ve become a distraction, and I-I think it would be best if you didn’t come to the tournament.”

“Is this about your dad? Did he force you into this?”

“No, this is my decision. I need to focus on winning.”

His words feel like a physical blow. I take a step back and shake my head.

“This doesn’t make any sense. You’ve been flirting with me, and we’ve spent so much time together lately. At the golf course and here at the beach.” My words are tumbling out of me. I’m not sure if I’m even coherent because I can’t think. None of this is adding up.

“I’m sorry if you misinterpreted–”

“No.” I cut him off, anger shooting up like a flare gun within me. “Do not try to make me think this wasn’t what I thought. You took care of me, my favorite drinks are in your fridge, you gave me your sweatshirt. We shared our dreams,” I whisper the last line, feeling hollow and broken.

He looks as broken as I feel, which makes everything worse. Why is he doing this if it’s hurting him too?

“This is for the best, Ellie. You’ll see.”

I meet his gaze, tears streaming down my face, the harsh winds drying them quickly. “Is this what you really want?”

He looks off toward the waves. His throat bobs as he swallows. “Yes.”

“Then consider this my two weeks” notice.”

His head whips back toward me. “What about saving for the shop?” His question feels like salt in a fresh wound.

“It’s none of your concern anymore,” I tell him, trying to keep my voice level. “I’ll write an official resignation email tomorrow.” After I finish crying until I’m out of tears.

“Red–” he stops, corrects himself, “Ellie. You don’t have to quit.”

“I do. You know I do.” I take another step back. His eyes are shining and I think I see a tear fall before I turn around. “Good luck at the tournament, Miles. You gave up everything–and everyone–to win. I hope it was worth it.”

He doesn’t call out, doesn’t grab my hand to stop me. With each step away from him my tears come faster. By the time I get to the sidewalk on Wave Way my neck is wet from my trail of tears. I pull out my phone and dial Naomi’s number.

“Hello?”

A sob breaks loose. I clamp a hand over my mouth.

“Ellie, what’s wrong?” Panic coats her voice.

“Miles,” I say through my tears. “I’m so stupid, Naomi.” I furiously wipe at my eyes, angry that I’m even crying. “I just need my sister,” I say, unable to get the explanation out.

“Tell me where you are. I’m putting Archie in the car now.”

“I’m on Wave Way.” I glance behind me, realizing Miles might come up to the parking lot any minute now. “I’m going to go stand by Coastal Coffee.”

“Okay, I’ll be there soon. Just stay put.”

“Thank you,” I whisper into the phone.

“What are sisters for if not this?”

“Okay, I don’t have any ice cream, and you said no pie, so all I have is a half a bag of semisweet chocolate chips.” Naomi sits down on the couch and sets the bag on the cushion between us.

“I told you I didn’t want anything. I’m okay, really.”

I tug my blanket cape tighter around me. I just got through telling Naomi everything that happened on the beach. She consoled me as I cried my way through it, then offered me everything in her kitchen to eat, even after I insisted I wasn’t hungry. I know she’s trying to take care of me though, so I don’t mind.

“All right, but let me know if you change your mind.” She snags the bag and sets it on the end table to her left.

I heave a sigh and stare blankly at the cartoon on the TV. My cry for help resulted in waking Archie up to come get me, but thankfully after a little warm milk and his favorite cartoon, he was back fast asleep. I would have felt even worse if Naomi had to deal with a cranky Archie because of me.

“How about you lay down and I play with your hair like Mom used to?”

A weak smile stretches my lips. “That sounds nice.”

I lay down beside her in my blanket cocoon. Her fingers start to sift through my hair. When we got sick when we were younger, I remember Mom coming in and brushing my hair back from my forehead. She’d tell little stories, or just hum softly until we fell asleep. Sometimes I’d pretend to be sick longer just so she would keep doing it.

Though I know I shouldn’t feel bad for him or even think of him at all, I can’t help but wonder if Miles had anything like that. If his mom ever cared for him while he was sick or told him bedtime stories. Were his parents ever good or did he grow up with the version of his dad that I met yesterday?

My heart aches for him in so many ways. I wish he would have just talked things through with me, but at the same time I know he thinks he’s doing the right thing. He said as much on the beach. I just don’t know how to get through to him, and I can’t open myself up to any more hurt by trying.

“Why does it hurt so bad?” I whisper, shutting my eyes as warm tears begin to fall. I thought I had cried all of them, but I guess I was wrong.

“Because you care so much. You have a big, beautiful heart and when you love, you love with every bit of it.”

“I wish I didn’t.”

“You wouldn”t be the Ellie I know and love if you didn’t.”

“But I wouldn’t get hurt as much either.”

She hums as she continues trailing her fingers through my hair. “Pain and heartbreak are a part of life. Even if you changed everything about you, you couldn’t avoid it.”

I think about her losing Owen. How she laid on this same couch for days, bags under haunted eyes because she couldn’t sleep without him. I realize that somehow over the past two years she’s become the one comforting me. She found the strength to keep going. It feels foolish for me to cry about this after everything she’s been through, but I know if I said so she’d reprimand me.

“I know you’re right, but I wish you weren’t.”

She laughs a little. “Me too.”

I shut my eyes, tired of talking, tired of everything. I fall asleep on Naomi’s couch, and dream of a version of tonight that didn’t end in tears.