Love At First Sight (Love Comes First Book 2) Read online

  If he tries to wrap his arms around me from behind to correct my swing, I’m going to implant my putter into his forehead.

  It’s only the third hole and I’m already out of patience. If I have to hear Edgar, Barney, or Raymond joke one more time about washing each other’s balls while they scrub their golf balls before each drive, I’m going to kick them in their real balls.

  “Let’s see what you can do with a stiff shaft,” Barney says as I walk over to the tee with my club.

  “Just grip it softly,” my boss Edgar says with a creepy grin on his weathered face, “and stroke it smoothly.”

  Oh my God. I hate these guys. So much.

  I’m biting my tongue as I bend over and sink the tee into the grass. They’re worse than teenage boys, whispering and snickering at my ass as I place the ball.

  I get up as quickly as I can and shoot them a glare before lining up to let another shitty drive loose.

  “You’re going to want to spread your legs,” Raymond comments, and the other two pervs start laughing.

  I just want to go home.

  The stupid ball falls off the tee and I curse as I bend over to put it back on. That’s when I hear a click.

  I whip my head around and see my boss shoving his phone into his golf bag. Real classy. I guess these guys haven’t heard about the Me Too movement. I’m surprised since it was created because of creeps like them.

  The first time I hit a golf ball was three days ago at the driving range, so there’s no reason to think that I can aim the ball when I hit. Still, I aim right for the thick tree trunk a few yards away.

  “Come on,” I whisper. “Please make this happen.”

  I hit the ball as hard as I can and it flies off the tee and lands right where I aimed it. It smacks into the tree trunk with a thunk and comes flying back at my playing partners. They all yelp as they duck out of the way.

  “Oops,” I say with a grin as I strut back to the cart. I shove the club back in my new bag as they stare at me in shock.

  “You’re supposed to hit the ball that way,” Barney says with a derisive laugh.

  “I think the shaft on that club was too long for her,” Raymond says, grinning at Mr. Miller. “She looks like she could use a short shaft. Probably why she’s with Edgar.”

  With Edgar?! Geez, what the hell is wrong with these guys? I’m the new saleswoman at the office, not his escort.

  I sit in the golf cart as the three of them tee off. We’re playing best ball, which means I’m going to be hitting from wherever Mr. Miller’s ball lands all day.

  His ball lands near the pond in the distance and he’s cursing as he gets in the cart. I’m just happy that we get to go near the ducks. That should kill a few minutes of this dreadful day.

  “How long do golf matches last?” I ask as he drives along the path toward our ball.

  “First of all, it’s not a golf match,” he says with a laugh, and I have to try really hard not to shove him out of the speeding cart. “It’s a golf game.”

  Whatever.

  “And they normally take about four hours.”

  Four hours?!? I nearly throw up.

  “But tournaments are often longer than that,” he adds. “So, maybe around five?”

  My stomach lurches as I stare at the ducks on the pond. Even they have a better place to be, since they take off as we approach.

  “So, I’ll be home around six?” I ask hopefully as he parks the cart by the water. I really don’t like to leave Chester home for very long. The poor pup was sick this morning.

  “Six AM is more like it,” he says as we walk around to our bags in the back. “We’re staying for the dinner tonight. You’re my date.”

  That granola bar I ate in the car is coming back up as I watch him pull out a club.

  “You’re going to want to use a three iron for this shot,” he says as he walks over to the ball.

  I don’t even know what a three iron is and I really don’t care. I just want to go home and take care of my sick dog. I don’t need this.

  My jaw is clenched and my pulse is speeding angrily when I see the corner of his iPhone sticking out of his bag. I grab it and head to his photos as he’s busy lining up his shot, rambling on about the yardage to the hole and the direction of the wind.

  The first picture that pops up is of my bent over ass in my baby blue shorts.

  As soon as he swings his club, I toss his phone into the middle of the pond. It disappears with a plunk.

  That’s what you get, perv.

  “What was that?” he asks as he turns around to look at the pond.

  “A duck, I think. That was a great shot, sir!”

  I’m bouncing around with a big excited smile on my face as he turns back to his ball, looking proud. “It was pretty good.

  “Your turn,” he says as I squeeze my club, hating every second of this. At least, it’s a nice day, but that also means my tan is going to look horrendous tomorrow.

  I hit the ball as best I can, which is pretty embarrassing considering where it goes. I’m wondering if I’m the only golfer in the world who can hit horizontal as Mr. Miller gets back into the cart.

  “I’ll catch up,” I say with a wave. “I’m going to go find my ball.”

  He shrugs and then drives over to where Barney and Raymond are hitting.

  I should just leave. The creep took a picture of my ass!

  But I know that I can’t. It took me four months to find this job that I’m overqualified for, and I desperately need the money. My one-year-old French Bulldog has cancer and the vet bills are piling up. I start tearing up just thinking about it.

  I pull out my phone and look at a couple of adorable pictures of him before texting my neighbor to ask her to let him out. We help each other out sometimes. Jody is a single mother who works full time, so she’s always needing me to watch a kid here and there for a few minutes while she scrambles around. I don’t mind. I like her kids and it lets me ask her for help once in a while without feeling guilty.

  No problem, she texts back. Have fun and try to meet a boyfriend!

  I sigh as I shove my phone back into my pocket. A boyfriend here? Yeah, right. I’ve never been in a relationship and I don’t think I’m about to start now. Especially surrounded by these three creeps. If anything, they’re going to swear me off men forever.

  I’m walking through the trees, kicking leaves and branches as I look for my ball. It’s right there, but I prolong this moment a little. I glance over at my boss and drop my head back with a groan when I see the three of them lighting the biggest cigars I’ve ever seen. Just when I think this can’t get any worse, they assault another one of my senses. I’m going to have to smell that thick cigar smoke all day instead of the freshly cut grass and pine trees.

  I wish I could go home. I wish someone would save me from this horrible day.

  I glance over at the foursome starting on the first hole and my breath catches when I see a tall muscular man practicing his swing. He’s already got a strike against him since he likes golf, but those broad shoulders and thick arms are just nice enough to let me look past it.

  He’s with two other guys his age, which looks to be about late twenties/early thirties, and an older man.

  I sneak behind a tree and gawk at him as he says something that I can’t hear. It sends shivers down my spine with the way his sharp jaw moves. Now, that’s a foursome I wouldn’t mind being in. Or, perhaps a twosome would be better. Just me and him.

  I can’t take my eyes off him as the old man swings. Now, it’s his turn. He struts up to the tee and I swallow hard when I see his ass as he bends over to place his ball. The irony that I’m gawking at him, but mad because my boss was gawking at me is not lost on me. It’s a double standard, but I don’t care. I’m looking.

  He stands up straight, separating his powerful legs and my heart is beating hard when I see the V shape of his muscular back. I guess golf isn’t so bad.

  With a hard swing, he clocks the ball…
right into the water.

  I grin as I watch him walk back to his cart with a shrug. Maybe he likes golf as much as I do.

  “Carrie!” Mr. Miller shouts from across the fairway.

  I turn to him and he’s got his arms open with a cigar hanging from his lips as if to say, what the hell are you doing?

  I quickly grab my ball, hold it up to show him, and then rush over while the foursome behind us waits impatiently to hit.

  “Did you guys hit?” I ask, feeling a little better now even though I have to wave a thick cloud of smoke out of my face.

  “Right onto the green,” Raymond says with a grin, like I’m going to be impressed.

  “He always gets his balls near the hole,” Barney adds with a snort, “but can never seem to find the hole.”

  “After it rains, I can,” Raymond says as they all chuckle. “I can always find a wet hole.”

  I put my sunglasses on so that I can roll my eyes.

  “Let’s go, Carrie,” Mr. Miller says as he walks over to our cart.

  “You go on, Edgar,” Raymond says. “I’ll walk with her up to the green. I have a couple of tips for her swing.”

  Oh, great.

  As soon as Mr. Miller and Barney drive away, I know something is up. He’s wringing his hands as he turns to me.

  “I was wondering, Carrie,” he says as he glances around nervously. “Do you have any friends who would like a similar arrangement?”

  I just stare at him blankly. “What arrangement?”

  “Like the one that you and Edgar have.”

  “Oh,” I say with a nod. “Wait. What?”

  He starts fidgeting with his white glove as he reluctantly continues. “A sugar daddy situation where I pay for rent and bills in exchange for…”

  “For?” I say, staring at him in disgust. I’m going to make this creep say it.

  “For sexual favors,” he finally spits out.

  “Gross,” I say as I stare at him in horror. “Me with Mr. Miller? Vomit.”

  He bites his bottom lip as he quickens his pace.

  “Is that what he told you?” I ask as I hurry to keep up with him.

  He won’t look me in the eyes. “He said you two had a deal.”

  “Oh, my god!” I storm past him and charge right up to Mr. Miller with my heart pounding. I want to kill him.

  “You told these guys I was your whore?” I hiss as he looks inside his golf bag.

  His eyes darken and he frowns as he grabs my arm a little too hard. “Watch yourself, young lady. I said no such thing.”

  “You said we had a deal! What deal?”

  “You work for me and I pay you,” he says, finally letting me go. “Some people would describe that as a deal.”

  “You led them to believe that the deal was… sexual.” Ew. I can’t even say that without gagging.

  “Oh, please,” he says as he yanks out his putter. “Raymond is a verifiable idiot. He’s always making great leaps.”

  My heart is still hammering, but the wind has been yanked from my sails.

  “You are an employee of Miller Inc, Miss Rivers, and this is a work event. Now, you will knock that scowl off of your face right now and put on a smile or you will be fired. Understand?”

  I want to tell him where he can shove this job, but I can’t. Chester pops in my head and I have to fight back the tears threatening to pour out. I don’t want to lose my dog. He’s all I have.

  I suck in a deep breath and nod my head. “Yes, sir,” I say with a forced smile that probably makes me look deranged.

  “Good. Now grab your putter and meet me at our ball.”

  I’m trying to figure out which one is my putter when he turns around. “And Carrie?”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “Have you seen my phone?”

  Chapter Three

  Eli

  “Nice hit, Nolan!” Mr. Brown beams as my brother’s golf ball soars down the middle of the fairway like it’s got a freaking rocket strapped to its ass. “Eli, you’re up.”

  This is the third hole and my score is already almost as high as my age. I hate golf.

  But I like money, so that’s why I’m here.

  “See, the trick to golf is to keep it on the grass and not in the parking lot,” Mr. Brown’s son Gabriel says with a smirk.

  I force out a laugh as I shove my tee into the dirt. Jokes on him. I got it in the water and then in some guy’s backyard, not in the parking lot.

  Normally, I’d tell a trust fund baby like Gabriel where he can shove his club, but Nolan and I are committed to professionalism today.

  “Fuck!” I scream when I smack the ball and it heads right for the trees, disappearing with several clunks. It takes everything I have not to bend my worthless club over my knee.

  “Hmmm,” Mr. Brown mumbles with a disapproving look on his face.

  “My brother is a very passionate man,” Nolan quickly says, trying to cover for me.

  “Passion is for the Lord,” Mr. Brown says with a quick glance at the sky. “In business, a successful man requires patience, calmness, and an unflinching steady hand.”

  “That’s right, pops,” Gabriel the kiss ass says. “Watch how it’s done, Eli.”

  My jaw is clenched as I watch Gabriel smack a perfect ball down the fairway. It lands several yards behind Nolan’s.

  “Nice shot!” Nolan says, clapping his hands.

  I guess Gabriel is not the only kiss ass around here.

  Mr. Brown hits next and the ball goes… ah, who cares? How much time is left to this shit anyway?

  “Calm down,” Nolan says as we get into the cart. “You’re making a spectacle.”

  “I’m making a spectacle?” I say, shooting him a look of disbelief. “We’re only here because you made a spectacle, remember? On Mr. Brown’s car with your little—”

  “I know what happened,” he snaps. “Just play it cool. Hit the ball onto the grass.”

  “I’m trying, Nolan!” God, what is wrong with everyone today?! “Do you think I’m aiming for the fucking forest?!”

  He sighs as he drives the cart along the trees. “Go find your ball and take a few deep breaths. This isn’t going well.”

  “I know that!” I hiss as I jump out of the moving cart.

  He shakes his head as he drives off to his perfectly placed ball.

  I’m trying to think of an excuse to leave—maybe a leak in my condo or an emergency lobotomy—as I walk into the forest, kicking rocks and leaves as I search for my stupid ball.

  “Oh!” a feminine voice gasps. “You scared me!”

  My eyes snap up and then go wide when I see her, standing in the trees looking like a gorgeous Lord of the Rings elf, complete with the glowing aura around her, but minus the pointy ears.

  “Could they make these balls any smaller?” she asks as she ducks under a branch. “The last time I spent this much time in the forest was when I was eight and my dad dragged us camping.”

  I’m just staring at her in awe as my heart pounds in my chest like someone slamming a sledgehammer into a gong at a quick pace. She’s perfect. I want her.

  I need her.

  I swallow hard as I look down at her baby blue shorts that are showing off her shapely feminine hips. Her legs go on for days and her blonde hair that’s falling in waves onto her shoulders looks soft enough to drown in.

  “Let’s make a deal,” she says, shooting me a radiant smile that takes the strength from my legs. “I’ll keep an eye out for your ball and you keep an eye out for mine.”

  I only have eyes for one thing now. Her body. Fuck the golf ball, I’m not taking my eyes off her sweet curves.

  “I have a Tit-list,” she says.

  “I think that’s pronounced Titleist.” Shit. I’ve only said five words to her and it’s all mansplaining.

  “That makes more sense,” she says with a laugh. “What do your balls look like?”

  I raise my eyebrow and she starts giggling while a pink blush creeps into her cheeks
.

  “I meant, what brand is your golf ball?”

  She’s waiting for my answer, but I can’t even speak. I have tingles all over as I stare into her blue eyes. This girl has got me stunned.

  “You are golfing, aren’t you?” she asks with a playful grin. “Or, do you live in these woods? Treehouse or underground lair? You seem like a treehouse guy to me.”

  I open my mouth to say something clever or witty, but only a pathetic gurgle comes out.

  “Here’s one!” she says as she bends over, treating me to a gorgeous view, and picks up a ball. “Ah, crap. It’s a Callaway.”

  “That’s mine,” I grunt as she shows it to me. “But you can keep it if you want.”

  “Carrie!” someone shouts from behind her. “Let’s go!”

  “Boss is calling,” she says with a roll of her eyes. “Gotta go. I’ll see you later, Callaway.”

  She tosses me the ball and I catch it as she runs off. Out of the forest, out of my life.

  A vicious urge to chase after her and throw her over my shoulder is quickly building to a head inside of me when my brother’s voice jerks me back to reality.

  “Eli!” Nolan shouts from the golf cart. “What the hell are you doing? Mr. Brown is waiting!”

  I’m still staring at her through the trees as she approaches the three old men she’s golfing with. I need her.

  A panicky, twitchy feeling starts to overtake me as she starts walking farther away. How can I get her in my arms? How can I get her in my bed?

  “Eli!” Nolan shouts as loud as you can on a golf course without getting kicked out. “Get over here!”

  My head is spinning and my pulse is on overdrive, but somehow, I manage to walk out of the forest.

  “What hole is that?” I ask, pointing to where my angel disappeared.

  “Who cares?” Nolan says as he grabs my arm and yanks me into the cart. He’s peeling away before my feet have left the ground. “Let’s just get this over with. You got your ball?”

  I quickly slide it into my pocket. I’m not hitting this one into the water. She touched it. It’s priceless.