Chapter 4
AVA
Knox, ever the gentleman, holds the door, letting me enter Where the Wild Things Par ahead of him.
A cool blast of air rushes out to greet me, accompanied by the whirring bells of an arcade game or twelve.
The clubhouse is dim but clean, and an older man with thick gray hair and a bright Hawaiian shirt stands behind the counter.
His face lights up the instant he sees us.
“Knox, my boy!” He grins broadly, the smile reaching all the way to his eyes. “It’s good to see you. What’s it been, three months?”
“Has it been that long?” Knox cringes. “I’m sorry.
Things have been a little busy, and I’m running behind at the worksite, but I’d love to get a game in today.
” He turns to me. “This is my friend Ava. She’s new to the area, and I promised to show her all the best places, which is why we came here first.” He gestures back to the counter.
“Sam is the best mini-golfer you’ll ever meet.
He’s destroyed me more times than I can count. ”
We exchange greetings, and Sam stage whispers, “Don’t let him fool you. I taught the kid a few tricks along the way.” He laughs good-naturedly, and I join in. “We all have our talents. Speaking of which, are you ready for the game?”
Knox tenses, but his smile is unwavering. “Absolutely. You know I always give it my all.”
“Don’t get too cocky,” I tease, nudging him playfully. “If memory serves, you suffered a stunning defeat in the last face-off.”
Sam’s eyes go wide, but he presses his lips together and pushes a scorecard across the scarred counter. “What color balls can I get y’all?”
“Blue for me.” Knox grins. “You know I’m a creature of habit.”
Sam pulls out an electric blue ball, shaking his head. “You and your superstitions.” He turns to me. “And for the lady?”
“Can I have pink?”
He sets a hot pink ball on the counter, and I grab it before it can roll away. Excitement fizzes in my belly. I’ve never played miniature golf before, but how hard can it be?
“You’re going down,” I announce, channeling my inner Lexie. After all, if it weren’t for Lexie’s bravado, Knox and I never would have met. It was her competitive spirit that had me throwing down the gauntlet in Cancún.
That, and the fear of letting her down.
Knox chuckles. “You wanna bet?”
“That depends.” I cock my hip and flash him a syrupy-sweet smile. “Are you up for another tattoo? I’ve already got the purr-fect one in mind.”
He huffs a laugh. “Not a chance.”
Knox pays the bill, we choose our clubs, and Sam sends us on our way.
We exit through the rear of the clubhouse, and I get a look at the course for the first time. “Aren’t these places supposed to be themed?”
Based on the name, I was expecting palm trees and big scary monsters.
Knox laughs and guides me to what I assume is the first hole. “Oh, there’s a theme, but it’s hard to spot if you’re not Georgia born and bred.”
“Like you?”
He nods. “I grew up not far from here. My parents and I spent a lot of weekends on this course when I was little. My dad was determined to make a golfer out of me, but it didn’t really take.
The twist-top cones, however, did.” He laughs, low and deep.
“My mom must’ve taken a million pictures of me posing on this course with ice cream dripping down my shirt. ”
A pang of jealousy lances through me. I shove it down. It’s not Knox’s fault I grew up in a single-parent household.
“That sounds really nice.” I shield my eyes from the late afternoon sun and scan the course, taking in the fiberglass structures that mark each hole. “Tell me more about this theme, because I’m definitely not seeing it.”
“Each hole is one of Georgia’s natural wonders, or a significant historic site.
” He points to a giant gray rock on the far side of the course.
“That’s Stone Mountain. And over there,” he says, shifting his focus to a manmade waterfall, “is Amicalola Falls. It’s a great hike if you ever have the opportunity. ”
He lists several other sites I’ve never heard of, and I wonder if I’ll be here long enough to visit them all. But that’s a problem for future me. Current me is on the best date I’ve been on in ages.
Knox is sweet and funny, and he baked me cookies. From scratch. No man has ever baked for me before. Or offered to do home repairs.
Or given you back-to-back orgasms.
Facts. Knox is a walking green flag.
A grin splits my face, and I’m probably beaming like a fool, but I can’t help it. Kayla and Lexie are never going to believe this.
Heck, I wouldn’t believe it if I wasn’t living it. This whole day has been like something out of a movie.
Just wait for the third act plot twist.
Nope, not going there. Not even a little bit. I deserve green flag energy, and I’m not going to let some niggling voice of doubt ruin this date.
“What about this hole?” I glance at the wooden sign to my right. “What is the Okefenokee Swamp?”
Knox doesn’t hesitate, and his enthusiasm is infectious. “It’s the largest blackwater swamp on the continent and home to about fifteen thousand American alligators.”
My smile falters. “Georgia has alligators? Like the way Florida has alligators?”
I feel like someone should have warned me, because I am so not okay with becoming gator bait.
Knox chuckles. “Yes and no. The gators are all south of the fall line, and Okefenokee in particular, spans the Georgia-Florida border. Which means the only gator you need to worry about is that one right there.”
He points to a fiberglass reptile midway down the green.
Its mouth is wide open, and there’s a small, dark tunnel where its throat should be.
“You can’t be serious.” I look up at him, not bothering to hide my incredulity. “There is no way this ball is fitting in that hole. It’ll be way too tight.”
Knox smirks. “Careful, darlin’. You’re dangerously close to making a dirty joke.”
“The odds of me making a dirty joke are way higher than the odds of me making this shot.” And those odds? Pretty close to zero. I step back and sweep my arm toward the gator. “Why don’t you show me how it’s done?”
“With pleasure.”
He drops his ball onto the green and lines up his shot.
I study his form, mentally marking the spot where he placed his ball.
The muscles in his back ripple as he swings, and there’s a satisfying pop as the club makes contact.
The ball rolls straight down the green and into the gator’s mouth. Because of course it does.
It rolls to a stop on the other end of the course, just inches from the hole.
“You’re up.” He grins down at me like the cat that ate the canary.
I stare at him, dumbfounded. “You made that look so easy.”
“You can always shoot around the obstacle.” The words are laced with challenge. “There’s no shame in taking the easy route.”
I square my shoulders.
The club feels awkward in my hands, and my posture is stiff, but I do my best to imitate Knox’s form.
I swing, and the ball flies down the green, going airborne. It clangs against the gator’s snout and bounces off into a thick bed of pine needles.
“Don’t worry about it.” Knox strides into the mulch and collects the ball. “Everyone gets a mulligan.”
Might as well add another green flag for being a good sport.
I sigh. “I have a confession. I’ve never actually played miniature golf before.”
Knox’s brows shoot up. “Really?”
I can’t fault him for being surprised, especially when he has so many fond memories of playing the game as a child.
“I was a competitive gymnast growing up.” I shrug. “The sport didn’t leave much time for other activities.”
Which was exactly how my mother wanted it. Because if I was busy, I didn’t have time to get into trouble. Not like she did.
“That explains so much.” Knox chuckles. “Like how you managed to scale my deck with your bare hands.”
“What can I say? I’m full of surprises.” I grimace, swallowing my pride. “Maybe you could give me a few tips?”
He agrees, and we quickly go over the rules before he gives me pointers on my grip and form.
“You’re close, but it’s not quite right.” He repositions my hands, his touch gentle. “Do you mind if I…” He gestures behind me, and it takes my brain a second to process what he’s asking. “Sometimes it’s easier that way. So you can feel the correct stance.”
“Oh, sure.”
Two words. It’s all I can manage because just the thought of Knox touching me again has my skin tingling in anticipation.
Thirsty, indeed.
He straightens my hips and uses his foot to nudge mine further apart.
There’s nothing suggestive or inappropriate in his touch, but tell that to my body.
Knox leans down, molding his chest to my back, and a shiver races down my spine.
He smells of citrus and sandalwood. It’s a sharp contrast to the scent I’ve come to associate with him, and I inhale deeply, filling my lungs with the calming aroma.
Knox clears his throat, and then his arms are around me, his hands encircling mine.
His breath is hot on my ear as he whispers. “How does this feel?”
Really freaking good.
But I can’t say that.
“Okay.”
“It might be a little uncomfortable at first, but after a few holes, it’ll be as natural as breathing.” Wait. Are we still talking about golf? “Don’t worry, we’ll take it nice and slow.”
I nod, unable to make actual words. Who could blame me? The prospect of having Knox back in my bed is—
“Breathe, Ava.”
I force myself to focus on the game and exhale, the breath leaving my body in a rush.
“There you go. Nice and gentle.”
He draws my arms back, and we swing as one.
My club connects with the ball, and a satisfying crack fills the air.
This time, the ball rolls down the green and right into the gator’s mouth, a metallic clang echoing across the green as it makes its way through the obstacle. It pops out the other end, and I watch with bated breath as it approaches the hole, circles the lip, and drops inside with a plunk.
“I did it!” Pride wells up from the pit of my stomach, and I straighten, bouncing on my toes. “I actually freaking did it!”
“Yeah, you did.” Knox grins, and I swear there’s pride shining in his eyes. It’s the same look my mom used to get when I landed an especially difficult vault. “And you got a hole in one.”
“Now let’s see if I can do it again, without help.”
Spoiler alert: My first hole in one is also my last.
By the time we finish the eighteenth hole, I’m well over par. Once I even had to pick up my ball because apparently you can run out of strokes.
“I thought you said golf lessons didn’t take?” I plant a hand on my hip and study Knox’s face for any sign of deception. “According to this scoresheet, you’re a pro.”
Be so for real. He’s had plenty of experience on this course, and you’re abysmal.
“Playing putt-putt is not the same as playing golf.” He smirks. “Take me to a real course, and I’m a disaster. I never know which club to use, and I’m pretty sure I hold some kind of record for shanking the ball.”
I laugh, throwing my head back. “That actually tracks. You’re so good at being bad that you hold an actual record.”
“What can I say? I’m an overachiever.” He rubs the back of his neck, and is it my imagination or is there a flush in his cheeks? It’s hard to be sure with the beard, and it could be the result of too much sun, but… “Did you at least have a little bit of fun?”
The question catches me off guard. How could this sexy, confident man have any doubt that I’m enjoying myself? The fact that he cares enough to ask is just another green flag in his favor. “I am having a great time, despite the fact that I’m terrible at miniature golf.”
He chuckles, and the quiet rumble reverberates in the air between us. “You weren’t terrible.”
“Tell that to the scoresheet.”
“I’m glad you had a good time. There are larger, more modern courses with all the bells and whistles, but I prefer to support local, family-owned businesses.”
My heart squeezes. Could this man be any more perfect? “That’s admirable, and not just because you have history with this place.”
We head back inside, and he excuses himself to say goodbye to Sam.
I wander over to the claw machine, trying to give them a moment of privacy.
I study the contents, a slow grin spreading over my face, and then I feed a dollar into the payment slot.
The lights flash and an upbeat melody begins to play as I maneuver the joystick, lining the claw up with my target.
Let’s see if you’ve still got the magic touch.
I smash the drop button and watch as the claw slowly descends, capturing the plush below. Adrenaline floods my system as it retracts, and I silently will it to hold. I’m fresh out of dollar bills, but this was too good to pass up.
When my prize drops into the chute, I fish it out and turn to find Knox waiting.
He gives me a curious look, and I present him with my gift: a stuffed gray cat with a pale pink bow tied around its neck. “It’s not a tattoo, but I guess this will have to do for now. Rest assured, I will be working on my game so I have a fighting chance next time.”
“Next time?” He grins, revealing the dimples I love so much. “I like the sound of that. What do you say we grab something to eat and get to know each other a little better?”