Chapter Twenty-One
Daniel
S afely tucked inside The Country Club, I let my hand find a perch at Wren’s lower back. Of course Ryan had invited her to the location scout, and since it was on Friday afternoon, she was able to come.
“Thanks for making this work,” Ryan told Peter, shaking his hand.
“It’s offseason, and the club is very quiet. Valet will let me know if anyone arrives. We shouldn’t have any unexpected visitors.”
Ryan’s bodyguard, Jerry, who didn’t go everywhere but was here in case the paps arrived, nodded.
“You already know Danny here, our star, and this is Birdie…”
“You mean, Wren,” Jerry corrected his boss. He’d only met Wren this morning, doling out his thanks for the ski situation. Of course Jerry had been on the ski trip and had warned Ryan. And when I got hurt, he’d been furious.
Although the real star was Peter—he didn’t miss a beat, picking up on Wren’s nickname, looking right at her. “Oh I know Wren. I’ve been intimately involved with her stroke.”
Slipping him the side-eye, I added, “She’s one hundred percent under my tutelage now.”
Ryan, my savior, redirected the afternoon. “Okay fellas, where should we start?”
“We need certain golf shots,” said Mandy, one of the studio people. The creative director, or whatever her title was. “We are using this for our outdoor shots for the US Open, where our main character makes a stunning comeback. Daniel, do you have ideas?” Mandy looked at me to finish.
“Since we are looking to film in the next month, we can improvise with CGI when it comes to weather and/or color of grass,” Ryan added.
“I think the first hole, and maybe something in the middle, and the last. Honestly, I don’t know shite, but you asked me…”
“No, you’re right. Let’s see the course,” Ryan said.
Mandy was busy taking notes and pictures.
“This way,” Peter said, leading us to a few golf carts.
Boston gifted us with another mild day as we drove the course and scoped out a few scenes.
“No double taking your shots?” Peter asked me, winking.
“Did you study theater at UCLA?” Laughter rang through my question. “Considering I taught you a lot of your tricks, you should know better,” I added.
Peter put his hand on my back. “I do owe you a lot,” he admitted.
We both knew our zings were all in good fun, but Ryan chirped in with, “We got Danny for a reason. Wanted the real thing.”
On that note, we finished up, Wren taking an interest in whatever Mandy was orchestrating until we returned to the clubhouse and she fastened herself next to me.
“See all you need?” she asked me, her smile and gaze wholly focused on me.
“I did. Ryan, Mandy, all set?”
Ryan nodded. “Thanks, Peter. Our office will speak to your office, figure out fees and course closures for filming. You’re welcome on set anytime, with Wren here…”
“I’m looking forward to it.” Peter was professional when this was both a personal and career coup. His club would be featured, and he would get all the credit while rubbing elbows with Hollywood celebrities.
“Dinner?” Ryan asked in our chauffeured SUV. Mandy was taking an Uber to see a friend.
“Birdie?” I looked at Wren.
“I’m hungry,” she said.
“Let’s do it!” Ryan answered Birdie, and she tried hard not to fall prey to the movie star, but he was enigmatic. Even I knew this. I wasn’t jealous of my friend; I loved the way he welcomed Birdie and made her at ease.
I loved the way Wren’s cheeks blushed, her straightened hair tucked in a winter hat, a faux fur coat keeping her warm.
“What about Rourke?” I asked, wondering if she forgot about the little guy in her Ryan haze and if he could stay alone for this long.
“His regular walker came while I was at work, and Genie is going to get him after work and take him back to her place.”
“So you pretty much guessed you’d have one smoking date for tonight—me—and a third wheel, Danny,” Ryan joked.
Wren started to laugh. “Exactly,” she said.
“Sorellina is holding a table for us. In the back.” Ryan looked at his phone. “You want to come, Jer?” He asked his question to the front where Jerry sat in the passenger seat.
“I’m going to head back to the hotel and plan some details for next week when we film by the Hollywood sign. It’s going to be a mess.”
“We’ll bring you back food.”
I saw Jerry nod before he stated, “I’ll come to get you later. Don’t exit without me.”
Ryan said, “Yeah, yeah,” but hadn’t planned on the one person snapping his picture while we were eating, and then TikTok exploding, leading to an influx of starstruck fans mobbing the table. “It’s not this bad in LA. I think people are more used to it.” He apologized to Wren. “Let’s get out of here,” he suggested before dessert, having texted the driver and Jerry.
Of course, as we exited, Wren tucked in my arms, we were photographed more times than I could count.
“RYAN, did you decide to do this film because of your friendship with Daniel?”
“RYAN, who is the woman? A costar?”
“DANIEL, did you hear you’re in the running for SEXIEST golfer at People mag?”
The questions kept coming and we did our best to ignore them, shuttling into the car. But by the time we made it back to Wren’s, we were plastered all over the internet.
“Told you so,” I teased Wren as I laid her down on the bed, slowly undressing her, marveling at her curves.
Her clothing in a pile on the floor, she looked at me while on her back, wearing nothing but a black bra and panties with the words For you knitted on the front.
“I’m forever linked to the SEXIEST golfer.” She faux-shouted the sexiest part, mimicking the paps.
“I can’t hear you,” I teased. “I’m too busy reading your undies. For me? Is that what I’m seeing?” I asked.
“It’s Friday, by the way,” she noted.
We both laughed as I started to take off my own clothes, feeling incredibly warm all of a sudden.
“Even if you know the correct day, I’m never going to let you live down the day-of-the-week skivvies.”
“Hey, they landed me a sexy-as-fuck golfer.”
I was impressed how in-stride Wren was taking the whole situation.
I crawled my way up her side and our mouths met, our tongues not waiting to get in on the action. I pulled Wren onto her side, her front meeting my front, and she hooked her leg over my hip.
Grinding into one another, my boxer briefs doing little to contain my excitement, kissing and not letting up, I felt heady. Like a teenage boy, not a grown man.
“Want to take my time with you,” I whispered into Wren’s ear before sliding down her body, nipping at her nipple, running my tongue over her abs, making sure she was comfortable on her back before tugging her underwear to the side and feasting on Birdie.
Call me a caveman, but I couldn’t bring myself to remove the panties that said this was all for me.
As Wren came apart underneath my chin, I didn’t let up, watching every ripple make its way through her, savoring the view. It was only when she’d been wrung out of every sensation that I threw taking our time to the wind, moving quickly up her body. Wren seemed to get the fever running off me as she kicked off the underwear. With her bra shoved out of the way, exposing her breasts, she invited me to have a taste. I did while wiggling and shrugging out of my briefs.
Sliding inside Wren, slowly, not wanting to miss a single moment or feeling, I let my palm graze her cheek. I caught her eyes and spoke only for our ears despite no one else being in the room. “I’m glad…we did this…reconnected.”
I watched her swallow and blink before she said, “Me too.”
I moved a little bit, dragging in and out of her as her hips rose. “Makes me sad that we missed a few decades of this.”
“I know,” was her response.
“We’ll make up for it…” I started to pick up speed, and Wren’s arching of her back let me know she was open to it until she stilled.
With her hand on my face, she looked at me and said, totally deadpan, “After you make your movie and you’re not only the sexiest golfer but actor too.”
With a comment like that there was no way to explain other than to show her how she made me feel like a king.