Merit (Treasure State Wildcats Book 4)
Merit: Chapter 15

The moment I pulled up in front of Mission Mini Golf, Stevie groaned. “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, come on.” I shut off the truck. “It’ll be fun.”

“I don’t like mini golf, Houston. You know this.”

Only because when we’d come here on a family outing years ago, not long after the owners had opened the place, she’d scored dead last. Even behind Bodhi, who’d been three or four.

Not one of us had let her live it down.

“Give it another try,” I said. “Go into this with a bit more finesse, and I bet you’ll love it.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I have finesse.”

“Sure you do. Let’s go.”

“Nope.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“Tough shit, Adair. As your fake boyfriend, I’m obligated to take you on at least one cutesy date. And what is cutesier than mini golf?”

She scowled. “I’m not cutesy. And neither are you.”

“We are tonight, baby.” I winked, then opened my door, waiting by the hood for her to finally join me outside.

“Don’t call me baby.” She stormed past me for the arched gateway that opened to the course.

Cutesy was the only way to describe Mission Mini Golf. It was more of a garden showcase than an amusement area. There were flower beds and pots everywhere, adding color to green space. The windmill was sided in cedar shakes. The trickling stream and fountains meant that at every hole there was the babble of water.

That Stevie didn’t like it here, when the woman loved flowers and the outdoors, was a testament to just how much she hated to lose. That single loss had tainted the whole sport for her.

“How many?” the clerk asked from the hut just inside the course’s gates.

“Two.” I fished out my wallet from my shorts pocket, handing over my credit card.

With my receipt, she handed over two golf balls, one blue, one pink.

Stevie snatched the blue from my hand and picked out a putter from the rack beside the hut. Then she collected a scorecard and tiny pencil, smacking both against my chest. “I’m going first.”

“Go for it.”

She set the ball down, lined up her putter and hit the ball so hard it bounced outside the concrete borders of the turf onto the lawn.

I rubbed a hand on the back of my neck, ducking my chin to hide a smile.

“Not. One. Word.” She pointed the end of her putter at my face.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, honey.”

Her nostrils flared, but she didn’t tell me not to use the endearment.

“That one didn’t count.” She picked up her ball and brought it back to the starting point. Then she hit it again, this time sending it around the curve.

I tucked the scorecard in my pocket, then twisted my hat backward as I took her place. With a quick sweep, my pink ball rolled across the turf and dropped with a plunk into the hole.

“See? Finesse.” I couldn’t help a smirk.

She rolled her eyes. “Good job.”

I laughed, giving her a playful push toward her ball. “Just have fun. No one cares if you’re good or bad at mini golf.”

“Fine.” She stuck out her tongue and blew, exactly like we used to do to each other as kids.

Despite what Stevie believed, I hadn’t brought her here for torture. If she relaxed, if she didn’t take this too seriously and didn’t have so many people heckling her bad shots, I knew she’d like it, both the sport of it and the scenery.

She lined up and finished the hole in two. When she bent to retrieve both balls, I had the perfect view of her perfect ass.

Mini golf was fucking great.

I’d told her we were going casual tonight, so when I’d picked her up, she’d walked out of the house in a pair of cutoff denim shorts, a black-and-white-striped crop top and all that hair piled in a messy knot. I’d been fighting a boner ever since.

She didn’t even realize she was sexy, did she?

It was getting harder and harder to hide my physical reaction. Ever since that first kiss, it was like the years I’d had smothering this attraction to Stevie, practicing my indifference, had been erased.

I was a teenager again, seeing her as a beautiful woman, and there was no way to ignore her beauty.

“You go first this time,” she said, walking to the next hole, a curved bridge over a trickling creek.

My ball sailed to the other side, not a hole in one, but close.

Hers flew off the side and into the water.

I didn’t even bother updating the scorecard after that hole. We both knew exactly what was happening tonight.

She’d get her ass kicked. And while she probably expected me to rub it in her face, I was going to keep my mouth shut and just enjoy the night.

Fuck, but I loved Saturdays.

These dates of ours had become the highlight of my week.

“What if we went out a different night?” I asked as we moved to the third hole.

“Are you busy next Saturday or something?”

“No. Just thought it could be fun to mix it up.”

“Oh.” She nibbled on her lower lip, and I tightened my grip on my putter so I wouldn’t reach to tug that pout free. “When?”

“Whenever.” Monday. Tuesday. Wednesday. I’d take any day. Time with Stevie meant everything else faded away.

There was no cancer. There were no explanations. She already knew everything that was happening with Mom. I didn’t have to answer questions because Stevie was in the thick of it too.

“How about Wednesday?” She took her shot, missing the tunnel where the ball would shoot into the hole, but only by about six inches.

“Wednesday it is.” Maybe I’d go to her place, cook her dinner again.

It had taken all of my willpower to leave last week. To keep my mouth off hers. To keep from laying her over the kitchen counter and having her for dessert.

But I’d needed time to think. To figure out where to go next.

Stevie had been jealous of Megan, hadn’t she? She wouldn’t admit it, but if it was jealousy, then it was a game changer.

Maybe I was getting under her skin. She’d sure as hell crawled under mine.

Maybe I could figure out this girlfriend thing after all. And maybe there was a chance she wanted me on my own merit. Not so I’d turn down Declan’s job offer. Not to make Mom’s dying wish come true.

If Stevie was jealous, then she might just want me for me.

I’d never worked this hard for a woman’s attention before. I kind of liked it.

“How’s work going?” I asked as we moved through the course, taking our time as the people ahead of us laughed and meandered hole to hole.

“Good. I’ve only got a few clients of my own. It’s been a lot of learning so far, shadowing Dad. But I’m enjoying it. The other designers are great. If I could just keep Dad from hovering, it would be perfect.”

“Did you expect Declan Adair to do anything but hover?” I chuckled. “You’re his baby girl.”

Her father had been the helicopter over her shoulder since the day she’d started wearing training bras. Declan would move every mountain around Mission if it meant she was happy.

“It feels different than him being protective. It feels like he doesn’t have confidence in me.”

“Oh.” Damn. “Really?”

“I think some of it is his new assistant. Samantha.” Her lip curled as she set down her ball. “She offered to proofread my proposals, which he thought was a great idea. Except she’s nitpicking everything I’m doing, which then pulls him into my projects. And then there’s him offering you a job as manager. He hasn’t said it, but there’re enough signals flashing that I know he’s not sure I can handle Adair on my own someday.”

“Give it time. I don’t think him offering me a job had anything to do with your skill. He knows I’m awesome and wants a piece of it.” I managed to say it with a straight face.

“Oh my God.” She burst out laughing. “Your ego truly knows no bounds.”

I chuckled. “Good thing I’ve got you around to keep it in check.”

“Yes, good thing. Though this golf game isn’t helping. What’s the score?”

I arched my eyebrows. “Do you really want to know?”

“Probably not,” she muttered.

“Let’s forget the score. Play for something else instead.”

“That sounds dangerous. What?”

“Tell you in a minute.” I jerked my chin for her to take a putt.

The people behind us were getting closer and this was not something I needed them to overhear. So we finished that hole and as we moved to the next, putting distance between us and the other players, I moved in close enough that I could draw in the sweet, orange-blossom scent of her hair.

“If you beat me on one hole, you get a prize.”

“I’m intrigued.” Her chin lifted, not shying away as I inched closer. Her mouth was so damn close it took effort not to bend and take it. “What kind of prize?”

“An orgasm.”

Her gasp, her eyes flaring, shot straight to my cock. Then her cheeks flushed as she glanced side to side, making sure no one was close.

She was never prettier than when her face was that pretty shade of pink. The same shade as her mouth.

“What are you . . . Do you mean . . .”

“No, not that.”

I wanted her naked and spread out beneath me, but I wasn’t taking her virginity until I was sure of where we stood. But we could have some fun in the meantime. If we ever took it all the way, I wanted to know every inch of her body first. I wanted her to crave me as much as I craved her.

She blinked too fast, her gaze shifting to my gray T-shirt, staring blankly at the Wildcats logo over my heart. “What do you get? If you win?”

I leaned in close, my nose brushing the shell of her ear. “To give you an orgasm.”

Stevie did another quick intake of air, and I let the sound sink deep, let it stoke the heat in my veins.

“Have you ever had one?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Has anyone ever given you one before?”

She whimpered as I dragged my mouth along her cheekbone. “No, um, not really. There was a guy who tried but I couldn’t . . .”

Couldn’t get out of her own head.

Whoever that guy was, he was an idiot. I’d gladly show him up. I’d show her what it felt like to have someone else’s hands on your body, chasing away any other thought and blowing your damn mind.

She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, worrying it for a moment.

I tugged it free with my thumb, taking a moment to get lost in the gold flecks of her eyes. They were on fire tonight, alight in the soft evening glow. “What do you say? Want to make the bet?”

She swallowed hard. “After last week, when you said you wanted to be friends and left, I didn’t think . . . I didn’t think you wanted that anymore. Anything, um, physical.”

I snaked my arm around her waist, hauling her against me. And then I pressed my growing arousal against her hip. “Thought we covered that in the back seat of my truck.”

Her eyelids drifted closed as her hand came to my bicep, using me to keep her balance. “I’m not . . . what will happen, specifically?”

Of course she’d want specifics. Something to stress over for the next eleven holes. Well, if this happened, it was going to be my way. We’d do what felt good in the heat of the moment.

“You’ll have to take the bet to replace out.”

Not that I was going to tell her. I wanted her to give up that control she loved so much. And surrender to a little bit of my chaos.

“Yes or no, Nadine?”

She let me go, taking a step back when the voices of the people behind us came closer. With a shaky hand, she tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear and placed her ball. She glanced to me as she took position, readying her putter.

Her nod was so slight I barely caught it. But when her eyebrows furrowed, when she put on her game face, I knew it was a yes.

She inhaled. Exhaled. Then with perfect concentration and execution, with finesse, she sent the ball down the green, through the white plastic pipe that dropped it around a corner.

And into the cup.

Hole in one.

I smiled, so wide it pinched my cheeks. “Nice shot.”

She closed her eyes, unable to hold back her own smile. “Maybe mini golf isn’t so bad.”

“My turn.” I took her place, keeping my gaze on hers as I dropped the ball. When it stopped bouncing, I whacked it with my putter, sending it nowhere near the right direction. “Darn. I guess you win.”

“Maverick,” she whispered.

“Go and get your ball.”

She hesitated for a moment. A pause that made me worry I’d gone too far. But then she whirled, collecting her ball while I did the same with mine.

When I met her at the start of the next hole, I took her hand and pulled her toward the hut.

“We’re done?” she asked.

“With mini golf.”

“Oh my God.” She said it so softly I barely caught it.

“Thanks,” I told the clerk, returning both balls and putters. Then I led Stevie through the exit.

The gravel lot was packed with vehicles, other couples and families out to enjoy a beautiful summer evening. A night like this, most would take a moment to appreciate the beauty that was Mission, Montana.

I’d catch it another time. Tonight, I wanted to lock myself inside a room and not come out until dawn.

She wiggled her hand as we got to the truck, trying to slip from my grip, but I walked her to her door, pressing her against the warm metal of my truck.

Then I crushed my mouth to hers, swallowing a mewl as my tongue swept inside and tangled with hers.

Her hands came to my shirt, fisting the hem, as she rose up on her toes.

I’d never kissed a woman the way I kissed Stevie. There was no holding back. No teasing or foreplay. No fragment that I didn’t surrender to her entirely.

Everything I had, I gave this woman.

The sound of a car parking broke us apart. I took a steadying breath, a moment of composure to get my dick under control.

That moment was all it took for that lip to be worried between her teeth again.

“Hey.” I hooked my finger under her chin, forcing her to meet my gaze. “One word and we forget the bet. Stops right here. Right now. It’s your call.”

She closed her eyes and shook her head. “Where should we go?”

That breathy whisper. I wanted it in my ear when I was buried inside of her.

“Is there anyone home at your place?”

“No. Jennsyn and Liz are both spending the night with their boyfriends.”

Thank fuck. “Your place it is.”