Page 51 of Over the Limit

I should feel rejection, but I don’t. He wouldn’t be here if he didn’t want something more. It’s just the uncertain territory we’d be treading into that makes this more than complicated.

“What do you mean that this isn’t—”

“Are you hungry?” he asks and then springs up without warning and runs across another green toward what looks like a clubhouse.

“What?” I laugh out as I jog after him, still trying to process the headiness of the moment we just shared and his obvious need to put distance between us.

And when I catch up to him, he’s at a vending machine pushing all kinds of buttons until that telltale thunk of food falling to the bottom of the machine can be heard.

“Here we are,” he says and holds out a handful of treats. Cookies and candy and chips. “Snacks of champions. Can’t say I don’t know how to take a woman out for an expensive meal.” He laughs and then lifts his eyebrows. “Which ones are you going to pick, Carmichael?”

“Um . . . I’m good.” My stomach growls. “The last thing I need are snacks.”

“Nope. Not going to hear it,” he says, his grin infectious. “You need to eat to keep your energy up.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, I seem to eat plenty.”

“And thank God for that.” He looks me up and down more in appreciation than predatory and damn if that single look doesn’t make me feel like a million dollars. “I’d be hard-pressed to find another woman who can fill out a pair of jeans like you do.”

“Whatever.” I roll my eyes.

He takes my hand with his free one and holds my arm out as he takes me in before murmuring, “Damn, girl. Just damn.”

“Lach.” His praise is unexpected and overwhelming. I blush and struggle with what to say.

“Own it. I won’t accept you doing anything other than that.”

“Now you’re just being ridiculous.”

“No. Now I’m telling you what you deserve to hear. You’re stunning. Truly.” Our eyes meet and as much as I’m uncomfortable with the attention, his does things to my insides that should be illegal. “Now, pick a snack, Tink, or else I’m going to be offended that you think I’m a cheap date, which will prompt me to buy every single snack inside that damn machine.”

This time when he holds them up, I don’t hesitate going for the cookies. They’re not ice cream but they are most definitely a good substitute.

“Good choice.” He nods resolutely. “Definitely a good choice and worth missing a flight for.” He looks around us. “Now let’s talk options for how exactly we’re going to play next.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Blair

“You are not beating me this time,” Lachlan yells as his golf cart inches in front of mine.

“Watch me!” I shout over to him as we race against each other down a fairway.

The golf carts aren’t exactly fast. The governors on their throttles have obviously been adjusted so assholes like Lachlan and me can’t race over the golf course.

But we’re doing so, nonetheless. Doing so and laughing so hard that my sides hurt and my cheeks are sore.

I push the cart’s limits until the whole thing shimmies and shakes as we bounce down the uneven grass. I’m gaining on his slight advantage with every foot we go.

“Eat my dust, Evans,” I yell over to him as I pull in front and then throw my hands in the air and shout out in victory when I win. “Woohoo!!!”

“Two out of three,” he says as he pulls up beside me.

“Two out of three?” I shriek and jump out of the golf cart to go to his. “That was more like eight out of ten.” I huff on my knuckles and shine them on my shirt. “I’m beginning to think I’m in the wrong line of work.”

Lachlan leans back, his arm slung across the back of the golf cart’s seat, his smile smug but contrite.

Jesus. He’s never looked more handsome.