Chapter 27
Genevieve
“Ahhhhhh.” I lift my face. “That breeze feels good.”
“Worst possible timing,” J.B. murmurs close to my ear, and my brows knit.
“What do you mean?”
“The breeze happened just as Luke was teeing off. Which means he probably didn’t club up enough to carry the wind. That shot is most likely coming up short on the green.”
“Is that really bad?” I ask, pulling my bottom lip between my teeth.
“Yes, it’s bad,” Luke’s dad snaps from behind me, making me jump.
“Not necessarily,” J.B. slides his arm around my back and gently moves between Luke’s angry dad and me. “He’ll just need more strokes to finish the shot.”
“Which means his lead decreases.”
“Will he lose?” My hand reaches for my necklace, and I fiddle with the dangling charm.
“Second place isn’t bad by any means” Luke’s dad scoffs, only for J.B. to look over his shoulder with a glare. It’s the first time I’ve seen him exhibit any outward reaction. “He’d have to keep on this downward trajectory for that even to be a remote possibility.”
Gripping the charm in my hand, I find it hard to fathom Luke falling apart, especially with how he handled that goof on the previous hole.
Got his first bogey, but it could’ve been so much worse.
The breeze was a fluke.
The crowd around us claps as Luke holds his hand up from down the fairway.
“Par!” J.B. shouts, “Great job Nichols! Way to handle adversity!”
“Par, Ha!” Luke’s dad’s guttural voice grumbles in my ear. “Told you you were a distraction.”
My shoulders inch upwards, the muscles locking tight enough to sting, but rather than acknowledge him, I celebrate along with everyone else.
Luke and his caddie head toward the next hole.
“Genevieve!” J.B. reaches for my elbow and gently guides me in front of him, once again separating me from Luke’s dad. “Let’s get moving.”
Glancing over my shoulder at Mr. Nichols and the scowl on his face, my stomach drops. How did Luke survive this man? I’ve only been around him for a few hours, and I feel off balance.
He reminds me of a chihuahua. My least favorite breed. They always seem to want to pick a fight. barking and snapping at anything that gets too close to what they think is theirs. Like Luke’s success is his territory, and I’m the intruder crossing the line.
“Did you know Luke’s dad before you became Luke’s agent?” I ask, grabbing the handle as we start the drive to the sixteenth hole.
“We had crossed paths over the years, but I wouldn’t say I knew him.”
I nod. “So you wouldn’t know if it was common for him to act out as he did before?”
J.B. doesn’t answer right away. Glancing in his direction, I notice his furrowed brow.
“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”
“It’s not that.” He shrugs a shoulder. “I didn’t really pay attention before, since I was rarely in the same place as Theo Nichols for long. You see how this works, you follow the guy you're with.”
“Makes sense.”
A lump forms in my throat as I think about Luke having to put up with this kind of treatment for decades.
“I had heard rumors.”
“With how his dad acted, I can see why.”
“It’s not true, you know.” J.B. gently nudges my arm. “You’re not a distraction. And the way Luke overcame those mistakes today shows it.”
“What he said made me angry. Not upset. He reminds me of a small dog…all bark and bluster, yapping to scare off anything that threatens his little kingdom.”
J.B. throws his head back and laughs.
“Why is that funny?” My brows shoot past my hairline.
“Theo Nichols intimidates everyone he meets, but you, Ms. Garrett, he angers. And not only that, you compare him to a dog. A small one at that.”
“Everyone lands in a dog category at some point. It’s a professional hazard.
” J.B. roars. “But Luke’s dad is being completely selfish, not thinking of his son at all.
” Running my hand jerkily through my hair, I sigh.
“I don’t want Luke to have to worry about me on top of everything else. I can handle one cranky old man.”
J.B. nods and parks beside the other carts. “I know I said it before, but now I’m one hundred percent positive. You’re good for Luke.”
My cheek pulls up, and I head over to the observation area. Slipping under the rope, I throw over my shoulder. “I know.”
“Genevieve, what type of dog am I?”
“I haven’t decided yet. You’re easy-going, smart, and yet intense.”
Situating myself close to the front, I stand next to the rope so I can see Luke when he arrives. Movement on my left catches my eye, and I glance over, expecting J.B., but find Luke’s dad.
“I know you’re not happy I’m here, but I’m not going anywhere.” He rolls his eyes and looks away, not saying a word.
Huffing out a breath, I hope his silence means acceptance or, at the very least temporary truce.
Luke catches my gaze on his way to the tee-box and tips his hat. Heat creeps up my cheeks, knowing all eyes in the crowd are watching our every interaction.
Including Luke’s father.
Without looking at the man standing next to me, I can feel the weight of his glare burning into the side of my face.
Rolling my neck, I concentrate on Luke instead.
He’s getting his club, taking his practice swings, and then placing the ball on the pin.
The same ritual every time. I’m reminded of his approach as I learn to train Bogey.
Once he got past his frustration, there was a quiet determination that pulsed through every inch of him.
It’s sexy as heck.
The burning on my cheek starts to feel like daggers, and I take a glance at Luke’s dad to confirm that he’s still staring at me. His mouth opens, and I shove a palm in his face. It works with both humans and canines.
Under normal circumstances, his popped eyes would make me smirk. Not now. Now I’m doing everything I can to keep my mouth shut and not give this man a piece of my mind.
THWACK
Luke’s tee-off is clean, and I let go of the breath I’ve been holding.
At the sound of the ball flying through the air, I slide the rope up and slip under. The last thing I want is to give Theo Nichols a reason to upset his son.
And I’ll be darned if I let him use me that way.