Kiss and Don't Tell(65)

“I’d rather watch you get ready. I’m truly interested in the process.”

She chuckles and points to her bedroom door. “Out, Pacey.”

Capitulating, I stand from her bed and walk to the door just as my phone buzzes in my pocket. “Hurry up, there’s a yogurt parfait in the fridge waiting for you, and then after that, the game is on.”

“Can’t wait.”

I shut her door behind me and pull my phone out. My eyes nearly bug out of their sockets when I read who the text is from.

Josh.

He has some fucking nerve.

Josh: Hey Pacey, it’s Josh. I know Dad spoke with you. He told me you’re in Banff. Wondering if you can carve some time out to talk to me on the phone. I have some things to tell you.

I blink a few times, reading the text over.

Some things to tell me?

What could he possibly want to share with me, especially since he wanted nothing to do with me? All of a sudden, he wants to talk to me?

Fuck that.

I exit out of the text thread and stuff my phone back in my pocket. I have better things to worry about other than patching things up with a guy who dissed me thirteen years ago.





Watching Winnie eat her yogurt parfait was torture. I swear she was licking the spoon seductively on purpose. She claimed it was so good that she wanted every last morsel, but I don’t believe her for a second. She was taunting me with her tongue. And it worked.

All I could think about was my dick in place of the spoon and her tongue running up and down it.

Yup. Torture.

“That was amazing. Thank you, Stephan,” Winnie says as she puts her parfait dish in the sink. She returns to her barstool next to mine. She places her hands on my knees and gives them a little shake. “Are you ready?”

I clear my throat and shift on my stool, not wanting her to see just how affected I was. “Ready.” I hold my hand out and so does she. “Best out of one?”

She nods. “Yup.”

“All right.”

Together, we pump our hands and say rock paper scissors. I throw down a rock and she shows up with scissors. Our eyes connect and I feel a smile pass over my face.

“Don’t get cocky. It was one win.”

“Just getting started. You looked like a scissors girl for your first throwdown.”

“Stop it.” She playfully pushes at my chest. “You did not know I was going to do scissors.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” I rub my hands together and ask, “How good are you at golf?”

“Uh, never played it. But I’ve played mini golf. Does that count?”

“Not really. This will be more fun.” I hop off the stool and take her hand in mine. “Let’s go.”

The boys are scattered throughout the house. Last I heard, Taters was in his room. Hornsby and Posey are playing chess upstairs and Holmes is reading in the library. No surprise there. Which means, the golf simulator is open.

I take her to the basement and she stops when we reach the bottom of the stairs.

“We’re not working out, are we? I know I said we could do anything, but please, my legs are still recovering.”

I chuckle. “Nah, I already got my workout in this morning, remember?”

“Oh, right. You were super productive this morning, unlike me, who slept in.”

“Trust me, if I could sleep in, I would.” I lead her down the hallway and into a room off to the side, then flip on the light, revealing the golf simulator. A large black screen is at the end of the room, a fake tee and greens are set up in front of it, and all different-sized golf clubs are on the right, along with a bucket of balls.

“Oh, this looks entertaining.” She heads over to the golf clubs and picks one up. “Are we going to drive balls into the wall?”

I take the club from her and say, “For one, that’s a putter, and secondly, we aren’t just driving them into the wall.” I flip the switch and the simulator comes to life. “We’re going to play a round of golf.”

She takes in the screen and her face lights up. “Wow . . . you boys really do know how to have a good time, don’t you?”

“This was Hornsby’s idea, and it was a very well-received idea. He spends the most time down here, but we all like to challenge each other. I’m not terribly good, but I can do a pretty good job. I thought we could take turns hitting. So, I would drive, you’d set up on the green, and then I putt. Then you drive, and so on and so forth.”

“We’d work together.”

I nod.

She smiles at me. “I like that idea, because I think we know that you’d destroy me if we played against each other.”

“Uh, yeah, I figured that out the minute you picked up the putter and started talking about driving.”

I go over to the screen and set it up for one player and a course of all par three holes. I figure that would be easier for Winnie.

When it’s all set up, I turn to her and catch her staring at me with a smirk. She’s in a pair of black leggings and a hot-pink top. Her hair is still drying from her shower but she put it half up, half down. She looks adorable.

“What’s that smirk for?” I ask her.

“Are you going to be that guy who leans in behind me and teaches me how to hit the ball?”