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Authors: Jordan Marie

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BOOK: The Perfect Stroke
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“Cooper? Where are you? I have something I need to run by you!” I yell, coming through the hotel room. I don’t know how I’ve managed it, but somehow I’ve kept CC with me for two weeks. We’ve traveled through Nebraska, Arizona, and North Dakota. Now we’re in Mississippi. I’ve won each of the courses—and rather easily. What’s even better is that the press has been following me more and more. In fact, last tournament, more fanfare showed up in North Dakota to watch me work my magic than actually showed up for some of the premiere tournaments and talent. I don’t really give a fuck. However, it does mean one thing: Now the assholes in charge have set up a dinner with me. They’ve talked to Seth and they want me onboard in Hilton Head next week. Seth’s urging me to play ball. I want to say I don’t give a fuck. The truth is, however, that the competitive side in me realizes these tournaments are where the real talent are. The men who eat, drink, and sleep golf. The men who leave it all out on the green. In my career, I’ve had one motto: To be the best, you have to play the best. That competitive drive is what got me this far and I can’t ignore it now.

All of that boils down to the fact that I’m meeting a bunch of stuffy suits for dinner tomorrow night, which would be easy, but it worries me how CC is going to react. Even I have to admit I’m nervous about it. Dinners haven’t exactly gone well with me and CC. Worse, Riverton will be at this meeting. I can only hope that Cammie doesn’t show up. It’s going to take a miracle to talk CC into going to this damn dinner as it is—a miracle I’ll never pull off if I can’t even find her. She’s not in the main room or the attached kitchen. The bedroom is empty, too.

“Cooper!” I yell again, starting to get worried.

“In here,” she calls from the bathroom. I open the door and what I see makes me feel like a hand is squeezing my heart. CC is in a bubble bath, her flowing red hair pinned atop her head, but a few curls have fallen down to frame her face. Her body is wet, shiny, and perfect, and I get just enough of a glance before the bubbles curve around and hide her from me, making me want more.

“Damn, there’s a vision for a man to come home to,” I tell her, and I’m not joking.
At all
.

“Except we’re not home, Einstein. We’re in a hotel.”

“Honey, with a body like that, it doesn’t matter where we’re at,” I tell her, but I am mad at myself. What I really want to tell her is that anywhere she’s at feels like home to me. I can’t say that. She may be thawing out some, but she’s definitely not ready to hear me tell her how I really feel… what I really
want
.

“So much flattery. Now can you get out of here so I can finish my bath?”

“Um… go ahead and bathe, I’m not stopping you,” I tell her, leaning on the bathroom door and crossing my arms.
Fuck no. I’m not about to leave
. I’m not stupid.

“Okay, let me rephrase that: Leave so I can finish my bubble bath without you bothering me.”

“I’ll be good. You won’t even know I’m here.”

“Yeah, sure. Your tongue is sticking out, pervert.”

“What? I’m innocent.”

“Whatever. You would think you’d be worn out
especially
after this morning.”

“This morning was just an early workout. You should know your man by now, woman,” I tell her, and she gets this look on her face that stays there for all of a few seconds. Then, she just shakes her head at me.

“Why are you back early? I thought you said you were going to go by the course and scope things out.”

“Well, Seth called.”

At my words, CC sits up a little taller in the tub, which is good for me because it reveals her breasts. My eyes are glued to them, watching as the water and bubbles stream slowly, running down her breasts until her nipples are revealed.

“Are those assholes messing with you again? What the hell can they do now? Jesus, someone needs to teach these fuckers a lesson. I might be the one to do it. What are they doing?”

I can hear her talking, but honestly I’m paying very little attention. My eyes are glued to her body and my cock is throbbing. I’ve always enjoyed sex, but having CC is making me a self-proclaimed sex addict.

“Gray! Eyes up here, moron. What bullshit are they pulling now?”

“Moron? Words hurt, Cooper.”

“I’m going to hurt you.”

“I’ve never been into dominating women, but for you, I’d be willing to try.”

“I know it’s hard, but will you try and be serious for a minute?”

I crouch down by the tub, folding my hands on the rim and smiling at her. “Well, I
am
pretty hard.”

“I know when there’s a naked woman in the room, your brain cells dissipate, but let’s try. What are those assholes pulling now?”

“God, you’re sexy when you’re all set to defend me.”

“Right now I’m thinking I might rather kill you.”

I grin. Shit, this woman never stops giving me what I want.

“They’re not doing anything, sweet lips. They want to meet with me.”

“Of course they do, because they realize you’re the star. They need you. I swear, assholes with money are all the same.”

“Hey now.”

“You know what I mean,” she growls. “So when do you meet with them?”

“They want to meet for dinner tomorrow night.”

She is silent for a few minutes. Then, she takes a deep breath and her hand slides along the side of my face. “You got this.”

There it is. CC giving me her support. CC believing in me. I don’t think she even realizes she does it, but she does. I notice, and that’s just one small thing in a million larger ones that makes her special, that makes her the woman I plan on keeping.


We
got this,” I correct her, giving her a gentle kiss on her lips. “I thought it would be harder to talk you into having dinner with them. It means a lot that you…”

“Wait. What are you talking about? Why would I be having dinner with them? It’s a business dinner. There’s no reason for me to be there.”

“There’s every reason.
I want you there
. Hell, Cooper, I
need
you there.”

“Gray, I don’t get along with those kind of people. If there’s anything our time together has taught us, it’s that.”

“Bullshit. We’re a team, CC. You and me against them all.”

“Gray…”

“I need you, CC.”

She closes her eyes, and guilt hits me. I know she’s given up a lot to come with me. I know this is hard for her. I’m a second away from telling her it’s okay when she surprises me.

“Okay, fine,” she says.

Elation strums through me. “You mean it?” I ask, sounding like a little kid.

“Yeah. I mean, how bad can it be? At least Cammie and her father won’t be there,” she says.

And here is my first huge mistake: I remain quiet. I don’t confess that Riverton
will
be there.

Instead, I say, “You amaze me.” I push the guilt down, then pull her in for a kiss. Our tongues dance. Her arms go around me and she gives herself over to me. I push in closer, intent on climbing into the tub and taking what’s mine.

“Gray! What are you doing? You’ll get all wet!”

“I don’t give a fuck,” I tell her, and I don’t. I need this. I need her. And I
really
don’t want to think about what’s going to happen if Riverton and Cammie are at that meeting tomorrow night.

 

 

“Are you sure I look alright?” I ask Gray for the tenth time, which is crazy since I know I look good. I’m also confident in the dress I’m wearing. I spent all day researching places on the web so I would find the perfect dress to wear. We’re having dinner at a very uptown restaurant. It took us two hours to drive here. I guess the assholes didn’t want to eat in the small town they had condemned Gray to compete in.

“Sweetheart, you look beautiful,” he says, and the softness in his voice almost undoes me. I’m wearing a black cocktail dress. Classic, chic, and definitely not something that will embarrass me or Gray. I went to a spa and had my hair tamed and fixed. If there is one thing about my outfit that Gray doesn’t like, my hair would be it; he loves my hair and misses the curls tonight. I’d never admit it, but I kind of do, too. I take a breath at the hostess table, trying to make sure my dress is straight and I haven’t done something stupid. I look behind me thinking I will find toilet paper stuck to my dress from when I went to the bathroom, but there isn’t. It doesn’t make a damn bit of sense, but then again, I’m not exactly making a lot of sense tonight. “Stop fidgeting, Cooper. You’re beautiful. You’re the best looking woman here tonight.”

“You haven’t seen the other women,” I tell him.

He pulls my face close to his, so close that our foreheads touch. His hands gently cup the sides of my neck and his eyes look deep into mine. “Since the moment I met you, Claudia Cooper, other women ceased to exist for me.” His words, so softly delivered, pierce my heart and squeeze it so tight it’s hard to breathe.

I fight through it, my hand going to cover his on my neck. “That’s a really good line, Grayson Lucas.”

“There’s not a line in it. I’m so fucking proud to have you on my arm, Cooper. Never doubt that for one fucking minute.”

Can you stop breathing from the force of words alone?
The thing about it is, his words seep into empty parts of me and fill up holes that have been there for years. I have no defense. I’m just here, exposed.

“If you make me cry, I’m going to kick you in the nuts,” I try to joke, but my voice is broken, giving away the emotion he has evoked.

His beautiful lips slowly smile. “Got it. No more sappy stuff.”

“No more sappy stuff,” I agree, and he kisses me quickly before pulling away.

“Do you have reservations?” the hostess asks, and Gray looks at me strangely, clears his throat, and grabs hold of my hand. He squeezes it reassuringly and I’m starting to get a bad feeling.

“It should be under Riverton,” he says quietly to the hostess, but he’s looking at me.

My face goes pale. I know it does because I can feel the cold clamminess spread. Riverton? What the fuck? He knew Riverton was going to be here and he didn’t warn me? Gray
knew
I thought he wouldn’t be here and he let me believe it. I jerk my hand, trying to get it free from his hold. He doesn’t let go, however, and before I can say anything to him, the devil himself picks that moment to walk up.

“Grayson, how nice to see you again,” he says, and I don’t know which one of the two I would rather kick right now. It would be a tough call.

“David, you too,” Grayson says, shaking the devil’s hand.

“We’re seated this way,” Riverton says, ignoring the fact that there’s a hostess who gets paid to do that. He doesn’t acknowledge me on the way there, which is fine as I’m
more
than used to that. I prefer it, really.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Gray whispers as we’re walking behind Riverton.

“I’m not talking to you,” I whisper back.

“If I had told you, you wouldn’t have come.”

“So you lied.”

“No, I just didn’t correct you. It could be worse,” he adds just as we get to the table.

That’s when I see her: Cammie Riverton. She stands up and beams at Gray, wrapping him in a hug that, to his credit, he doesn’t return.

“Grayson! I’ve missed you,” she says, and the fact that Grayson doesn’t return the hug and pretty much ignores what she says might be the only thing that saves his life.

At least for now.

 

 

“Cammie,” I all but growl. Fuck, it was going to be hard enough to get CC not to hate me over Riverton. The fact that Cammie is here will just make everything fucking worse.

“Oh, Claudia. I didn’t realize you would be here,” Cammie says, her voice dripping with distaste.

I feel CC stiffen beside me and I hate myself all over again for putting her through this. My woman is brilliant and completely in charge—unless these idiots are involved. They make her feel out of her depth. I get the feeling that Cammie Riverton is a real expert at it.

“Odd, I could say the same about you,” CC returns, and when I look up, she’s staring at me. I’m not sure what to call the look on her face. I knew I would be in trouble, but her look is something else altogether. I wouldn’t even call it anger, which is what I expected the most.

BOOK: The Perfect Stroke
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