The Perfect Stroke (12 page)

“A three-peater. That means he has brains,” she says, holding a finger up. I nod because Gray is extremely smart and witty, it’s one of the things I really like about him. “He has money, or at least a steady job so you don’t have to keep his ass up,” she continues, holding a second finger up. I don’t respond because I figure she knows that. “And finally, he has at least seven inches when you take a ride on the man train.”

“You did not just say that,” I gasp, knowing I’m blushing from head to toe now. I look all around us, just knowing everyone has heard what she said.

“I did, and from your reaction, I can tell the answer is affirmative. So how much are we talking here?”

“Will you stop? Honestly, Mer, I am not answering that at all. No way.”

“So more than seven?”

“Oh my God! Who are you and what have you done with my quiet, kindergarten school teaching friend?”

“Answer the question and I’ll let it drop.”

“I will not.”

“Fine, I’ll just ask him when I see you two out together.”

“You would not!”

“Try me. Now are you going to give the deets or what?”

“I have no idea!”

“Bullshit!”

“It’s true! I haven’t exactly taken the time to measure it.”

“Measure what?”

I look up at the question to see Mer’s sister Valerie standing at our table.
Christ
! That’s all I need. Crosstown has three methods of communication: telephone, telegraph, and tell Valerie. Seriously, when you need something spread around town, all you have to do is let Valerie know and it’s all over this town and two counties over by nightfall.

“C here has got hold of the mythical bigfoot.”

“Jesus,” I mutter.

“Mythical bigfoot?”

“Her new boy toy is
big
.”

“Ohhhh… Do tell! Give me all the juicy details, and I do mean
juicy
,” Valerie says, pushing Mer over and sitting down with us.

“There are no details! I keep telling Mer! I haven’t measured it! I have no idea.”

It’s a bold faced lie. I mean, I haven’t measured his dick. I did read the tabloids though and the general consensus from all the women in his harem is that Grayson Lucas, golf’s new young stud, is packing a very thick nine iron between his legs. I think they might be doing him a disservice. After experiencing him inside of me, I’d say he’s closer to ten--not that I’ve had that many, and certainly none to compare his size with.

“You flucking hooker! You’re holding back from us,” Mer says.
Jesus
! I hate that she knows me so well.

“Shit. If I tell you, will this conversation please drop?”

“Totally,” Mer says. “Absolutely,” Valerie joins in, and for some strange reason, I don’t trust either of them.

“I mean it, and Val, if this gets out, I
will
tell Elmer at Pro-Hardware you have a thing for him,” I warn her. Elmer is a fifty-year-old, never-been-married-before bachelor who goes cruising parking lots looking for women. Not just any women, however. No, Elmer wants women that are at least twenty years younger than him. Never mind that he’s got a beer belly, thinning hair that he combs over, and none of his own teeth. No, the real problem is that the man is as stingy as they come. He probably has more money in his checking account than even Grayson. But the reason it’s there is because he is a skin-flint. According to a very good source
(Valerie)
, the man has only used one pack of light bulbs in two years. The reason for that is, he gets out one light bulb and uses it in whatever room he’s in. When he leaves that room, he unscrews it from the lamp and moves it into the next room with him. Rumor has it—
again from Valerie
—he also takes the time to separate every roll of two-ply toilet paper so he gets twice the use out of it.

“That’s just mean, C.”

“Promise.”

“Fine, I promise. I don’t see what the problem is. If I had a man with a big dick, I’d be shouting that shit near and far. Hell, I’d be so loud in the bedroom that the whole county would know it anyway,” Valerie says, and I flip her off.

“Spill,” they say together, and I take a breath. Did I mention this oversharing and girl-time isn’t easy for me? Yet another reason why other than Mer and, obviously sometimes by default, Valerie, I don’t have girlfriends. You wouldn’t catch Jackson asking me about the size of Gray’s dick.

“I honestly haven’t measured it. Though the tabloids say he is nine inches.”

“Sweet mother of… Wait. Hold the flucking presses and call Maury to find the baby daddy. Did you say
tabloids?
”

“Yeah.”

“C, you said he had money, but you didn’t say he was famous. Just who the hell
are
you dating?”

“Damn it! If you’re dating my man, I’m going to hate you for life!”

“Trust me when I tell you, Valerie, that I’m not dating the lead singer from that band.”

“His name is Adam and he’s mine. His wife is the only thing in my way, but that won’t last much longer. She doesn’t understand him like I do.”

My eyes go over to Mer, who’s pointing a finger at her head and spinning it in a circle to indicate that her sister’s whack-a-do. That’s a sentiment I wholeheartedly agree with.

“It’s Grayson Lucas,” I tell them, and they look at each other in question. It’s good to know I’m not the only one who doesn’t follow golf. “He plays golf,” I add.

Valerie is the first one to look him up on her phone. “Oh. My. God,” she whispers to her screen.

“Sweet Jesus,” Mer adds, yanking her phone over to look at it.

“Does he have a brother?” they both say together and I laugh—a real laugh, because just like that, I’m good. I feel really good. They aren’t saying Gray is out of my league. They aren’t telling me I’m crazy for seeing him. Just the opposite, and so I laugh and then proceed to tell them about his colorful (pun intended) family.

This might just work out after all.

“What do you mean we’re taking the boat out?” I grumble, trying to keep my game face on, but really just wanting to get the hell out of here. I feel like I’m in level three of hell. Three levels, because there are three major things fucking with my plans for the day. One, I’m on Riverton’s sea cruiser, which is most definitely not a sailboat. Secondly, Cammie has been flirting and pawing at me for the last hour, and finally, Riverton is M.I.A. “Your father’s not even here yet.”

“I told you, daddy said he may be held up at the office and for us not to wait for him,” Cammie says almost giddily. Hell, I’m a man, and I’m the first to admit men are usually clueless, but even
I
can see the calculating in her eyes.

“Honestly, Cammie, I have plans for this evening. We can just reschedule this and do it some other time.”

“What? Why? I’m here and, Gray, I am the CEO for daddy’s marketing. It’s really me you should talk to about this anyway.”

“You are? Then why has your father been…”

“Daddy was just being generous with his time, Gray. He likes you. But honestly, I’m the one who usually makes all the decisions about corporate sponsoring. I had the cook prepare us a nice lunch, and with daddy not here, that means there will be more than enough food. How about we take the boat out? There’s a nice island in the middle of the lake. We can drop anchor close to it and enjoy lunch and talk business?”

Warning bells are going off in my head. Cammie’s got me in her sights and that really is reason for me to turn her down. On the other hand, it appears I’m never going to get to talk to Riverton one-on-one about this. If Cammie is really the one in charge here, it would be smart to deal with her, get it over with, and put this entire trip behind me.

“I have dinner plans tonight I can’t be late for,” I warn her. I promised CC I’d take her out to eat to make up for the other night and I have every intention to keep that promise.

“I can always call the club and…”

“It’s not the club. I have dinner plans with CC tonight.”

“CC?” she asks, sounding confused. “Are you dating Claudia?”

The tone of her voice gets on my nerves as well as the scandalized look on her face.

“We’ve gone out a few times, yes. Is there a problem?”

“Well, no. I mean, who you see is your business, I guess. I just thought that you and I had a connection.”

“Listen, Cammie. You’re a very nice person and all and I have the upmost respect for you, but I’m afraid I don’t really date people I work with in any way.”

“But…”

“I just find it bad practice to mix business and pleasure,” I tell her, cutting her off. “I’m sure you understand.”

“Well, not really. I mean, we’re both adults and we have similar interests and…”

“It’s just a personal rule,” I tell her again, cutting her off before she can keep going. I need to shut this down and get it back under control. She studies me for a minute, then something passes over her face and I feel another warning bell go off, but in a second the look is gone and I have to wonder if I imagined it.

“Fine, then. We’ll be business partners,” she says, holding out her hand. I take it and I can’t help but feel that this seems just way too easy.

“Business partners,” I agree.

“And friends. We can be friends, right? One can’t have too many of those.”

“I completely agree,” I tell her with a smile, starting to feel very relieved that all of this is out in the open. It’s the best thing really, to be upfront with each other.

“Great. Now that we have that out of the way, why don’t we skip taking the boat out and instead have a business luncheon at the club and discuss what our sponsorship exactly means?”

“Means? You would sponsor me for the golf tournaments I make. Your name would go on my gear…”

“It’s much more involved than that, surely you understand,” Cammie says, then links her arm into mine as we begin walking towards the docks.

“I mean, I know there’s more business to be decided and, of course, a contract, but…”

“It’s not just that, Gray. If Riverton Metals is going to sponsor you, then you are in essence going to be the face of our company.”

“Of course.”

“That means social engagements…”

“What type of social engagements? I mean, I do have the tour, and…”

“Dinners, parties, autograph sessions while out on tour. And there will be…”

“I’m a golfer, Cammie. Not a rock star.”

“In some circles, I’m sure you can agree that is the same thing,” she says, and before I know what’s happening, she’s led us to her father’s limo. Who has a limo just waiting in the parking lot for whenever you need them? Cammie and David Riverton, I suppose. The driver comes around and opens the door and Cammie slides in. “Are you coming, Grayson?” she asks, waiting.

I stare at her for a minute. I have this horrible feeling I’m selling my soul to the devil. I hear Seth’s voice in my head demanding I go through with this meeting. I take a deep breath and agree before I can talk myself out of it.

As I’m closed in the car with Cammie, I just know I’m going to live to regret this.

“I can’t believe you’re asking me to do this, Grayson Lucas,” I growl, feeling completely out of my depth.

“It’s one business dinner. It won’t be that bad,” he says, kissing the back of my neck.

“It’s one business dinner at that damn country club with Camilla and her father and a bunch of other…”

“Sweet lips, I told you. Cammie said she’d be on her best behavior. I talked with her about you. It’s going to be fine. I promise.”

“That’s just it. I don’t want you to talk to her about me. I can fight my own battles, Grayson Lucas. I’ve been doing it way before you came in the picture.”

“Point made. I just really want you with me tonight. Is that so hard to understand?” he asks, pulling away to button his cufflinks.
His cufflinks
. How did I get here? This is not who I am. My eyes travel down his body and then I remember why: sex.
Heart-stopping, take-your-breath-away sex.
I thought it might cool off after a few days. It’s been two weeks, and if anything, it just keeps getting better. I don’t know how that’s possible or how to explain it. The simple truth is that I’m getting addicted to Grayson Lucas—so much so that he’s practically living here. He still keeps his room, but he’s definitely here ninety percent of the time. I might have even given him a key the other day when he said he was going to cook dinner for me and have it waiting when I got home from the garage—a dinner that happened to be amazing, and the fact that dessert was him eating me after just made it even better. So… he still has the key. I don’t know a woman alive who would judge me. There’s some things a woman can’t resist and Grayson Lucas does indeed have a magic tongue. That said, I’m not even sure a magic tongue is enough to make me go through with this damn dinner.