Unedited Excerpt from Mulligan Girl, by Rebecca L. Boschee
The sense of euphoria clung to me as I sat poolside under the tall palms at a little round table on the patio with Mo. I lazily watched her swirl a sprig of mint around her Mojito.
“Are you sure that’s such a good idea?” I ask with just the teensiest bit of concern. “You still have another treatment coming. I think you’re supposed to be drinking a lot of water, not a lot of rum.”
“Water‒smater. What? Do we live in a desert?” Mo said.
I raised my eyebrow at her.
“Hot waiter at two o’clock,” she said.
I followed her gaze. When Mo’s right, she’s right. This was more than just a hot waiter. This was a smoldering desert god. Every female head turned his way as he strode toward us, clad in beige shorts and a navy polo which hugged his lean muscles. He was very tall, at least six‒three, and older than the other waiters—in his early‒thirties probably, with short dark hair mussed up in a good way, and beautiful milk‒caramel‒colored skin. He looked so commanding walking towards us that I had to suppress the urge to fly to my knees and bow. When he reached our table I was startled to see that his eyes weren’t brown, as I had expected; they sparkled bluer than the pristine pool water. He smiled a crocked, mischievous smile, revealing perfect white teeth. The sexy masseuse from my dreams had nothing on this guy. Seeing us relax there seemed to bring him great pleasure.
“Mrs. Edwards?“ he asked smoothly.
Oh boy.
Mo kicked me under the table.
“Yes,” I squeaked.
“Mrs. Edwards,“ he repeated, holding out his strong, tan hand.
It was his voice. I felt a twinge of panic for no real reason that I could think of. I straightened in my chair.
“I’m Adan Bennett, we spoke on the phone the other day,“ he kindly reminded me.
“Of course,“ I managed to say, holding out my hand weakly. He grasped it, gently wrapping his long fingers around mine and shook my hand as if there was actually a live human on the other end instead of a limp fish. I felt a little hum of electricity in my head when his palm made contact, very warm and slightly rough. I noticed he wasn’t wearing a ring and his fingers were evenly tanned.
“I don’t mean to interrupt your luncheon, but I saw in the computer that you had made your spa reservations, and I didn’t want to miss this opportunity to introduce myself and see if there was anything that you needed.“
“Anything that I…needed?“ I repeated more to myself than to him.
Adan nodded and smiled, looking from me to Mo. I chanced a glance at Mo to catch her reaction ‒ wondering if this stunning man was having this effect on just me. Mo had a giddy smile plastered on her face and hadn’t taken her eyes off Adan. She absently lifted her drink to her mouth. Her straw, instead of reaching her lips, plunged partially into one of her nostrils. My eyes widened. She giggled and quickly pulled down the glass, but the straw stayed where it was, sticking out of her nose. Horrified, I reached forward and snatched it then buried my hand and the straw in the folds of my robe.
My robe! How embarrassing! I was sitting here talking to this striking man while wearing a bathrobe. Well, technically, I wasn’t talking. Maybe I should be talking.
Adan was politely keeping his eyes off Mo now and looking directly at me. It felt like he was scrutinizing every line of my face. A look crossed his face that caused his forehead to crinkle for a flash, but it disappeared when he spoke again.
“I can see that you are enjoying yourselves, so I won’t interrupt you further. Please don’t hesitate to call if you need anything.“ He reached into his pocket and placed a business card flat on the table, then smiled again and turned to walk away. It would take every ounce of control not to sneak a peek at what I knew would be his perfectly formed backside, and being that I was already in a semi‒relaxed state and had just been taken off guard, I gave up the effort. Oh yes. Perfectly formed.
“Excuse me,“ I heard Mo trying to tap through my distracted gaze. “Who is Adan Bennett?“ she demanded.
“No one,“ I said as a terrible realization hit me.
“Not buying it. He was someone and by the way he was looking at you, I’d say he thought you were someone too.“
“What?“
“Are you going to sit there and tell me you didn’t notice him practically drooling over you? It looked like he was trying to keep from pouncing, and finally had to give up and leave.“
“What?“ I asked incredulously.
“Come on, Ren. Who is this guy and why haven’t you mentioned him before?“
I picked up his business card with my fingers and gently traced the edge. Adan Bennett, Manager – Desert Fire, Golf Pro Shop Services.
“Adan Bennett,“ I finally say flatly. “He manages the golf program here at the resort.“
“You make it sound like you don’t like him.“ Mo squinted at me, trying to read through my dazed exterior.
“Oh, I think I like him.“
“Then what’s the problem? Is he married or something?“
“No,“ I said frowning. “But I am.“