Hooked Read online

  I can’t argue. Instead, I spend the whole time wondering if Riley and I will be together at their wedding, or apart.

  “You know, maybe you should wear a kilt.”

  Ryder laughs, and I scowl. I hope she’s not being serious. Nothing against Scottish tradition, I have some of that in my blood, but I’ve never worn one before.

  We get to the exclusive club. It doesn’t take long for us to find Riley. She’s got a circle of kids around her. She’s showing them how to putt on the mini green near the clubhouse that was made for kids.

  When Riley sees Ryder, she hands off the kids to another female golfer. She hugs her brother like it’s been years since they’ve seen each other. For a second I hope for that same smile when she finally notices me. Gina is next to get Riley’s warmth. They talk animatedly, and so far Riley ignores me.

  Finally, the conversation dies down. Justin emerges from the clubhouse and heads directly for my girl.

  “Riley, can we talk?” I ask quickly.

  She nods and I move over to her and place a hand on her back. I guide her past Justin who looks annoyed. We keep moving into the clubhouse. For total privacy, I usher her into a private bathroom.

  “If you’re still pissed at me, maybe Randy should caddie for you today,” I say. “I don’t want to mess with your game.”

  I said this earlier, but I need to make sure. She glances away, and my stomach sinks.

  “You’re giving up on me already?” she asks, finally locking eyes with me.

  Relief floods me. I don’t waste the air with words. Stepping up to her, I kiss the ever-loving shit out of her. That starts a fire between us. Her hand dips into my shorts and grabs my cock.

  Curses leave my mouth. “We can’t. I didn’t bring any condoms.”

  “And I can’t go play with my mind wrapped around your dick. You said you don’t want to mess up my game.” She smirks at me.

  “What are you saying?” I ask.

  “I’m saying I’ve never had unprotected sex. You?” I shake my head. “Then fuck me, Mark, and now.”

  I glance around the small bathroom. There is a toilet and a sink. Not much else.

  “Take off your shorts. Leave on your underwear,” I demand.

  She gives me a quizzical look, but does what I ask.

  “Wrap your legs around my waist.”

  I help her up by her ass. Pressing her into the wall, I slide my dick out of my shorts. Then I push her underwear to one side. And I’m in. And holy hell. It’s a whole different experience to be inside a woman bare.

  “Shit, Riley, I’m pretty sure you’ve ruined me for anyone else. Now you can’t leave me, like ever.”

  My brain short circuits then. It’s a wonder I can make out her next words.

  “Who said I was going anywhere? We’ll figure this out.”

  All talking ceases as I begin to pump into her. I have to kiss her little cries and moans to hopefully ensure we don’t get caught.

  No matter how much I want this to go on for years, I’m not going to last minutes with her wet cunt squeezing the hell out of my cock.

  She sounds like a sexy kitten when she purrs breathlessly, “I’m coming, Mark.”

  “Don’t hold back, baby. Let go. I’ve got you.”

  Her pussy contracts around my dick and sets me off. I’m so lost I don’t think about asking her a specific question until after we’ve come down from the high.

  I’m holding her up with her arms around me and still balls deep inside her.

  “Are you on the pill?” I don’t stop there. Words pour from me. “Not that it matters. I’d give my fortune away to see you pregnant with my kid.”

  RILEY

  “Isn’t it a little late for that?” A happy giggle rushes out of me as he slides out.

  “I did qualify it with my statement that followed.” Mark grins like he won the lottery. So I comment.

  “You didn’t hit the jackpot, you know.”

  “That’s for me to decide, and I pretty much think I did. But you never answered me.”

  I drag my lips across his and ask, “What was the question again?”

  “Are you on the pill?”

  “Oh, yeah. I am. No worries about any ankle biters.”

  “Ever?”

  What’s he asking me? “I’m not sure what you mean,” I say.

  He wraps his hand around my neck and asks, “Do you ever want any? Ankle biters, that is?”

  “Maybe someday. Far off in the distant future. But it sure would be hard to stay on the tour being pregnant, and then with a little baby. Especially if I didn’t want to leave.”

  “We could plan it out so you’d have the baby in the off season and hire a nanny.”

  What is he saying? He wants to have kids? “Um, Mark, I think we need to date first, you know. Get to know each other. Maybe get engaged, then marry. Isn’t that the normal progression of things?”

  The grin he flashes me is full of heat and sex. “Not always. There are plenty of people who have a few kids and then tie the knot.”

  Is he serious? He can’t possibly be. “Wait. You want to have kids first?”

  “You, barefoot and pregnant is beyond hot. I can’t wait to see you when your belly button pops out.”

  “Hang on a second, mister. You need a willing partner in all of this, and I’m a little old-fashioned in the kid department. There won’t be any kids until we’re married.”

  “Hmm. So, you want to get married then? Is that what you’re saying?” Now that sexy grin is cockier than ever. He had this whole thing planned all along.

  “You’re a sneaky bastard, you know that?” I poke him between the ribs. And I’m damn good at rib poking. I had a great teacher, namely my twin brother.

  “Ow, that hurt!”

  “That’s what you get for tricking me like you did.”

  He laughs. “It was a pretty good trap, wasn’t it?”

  It’s hard not to laugh with him. “Yeah, but you had me there for a minute. I thought you wanted to knock me up and hang out for a while.”

  “Oh, I want to knock you up all right. But I’ll do it properly, and when the time is right.”

  Wait. What did he just say? I pause, thinking this conversation through for a minute. I lift my eyes to his and find him staring at me, his gaze soft. All the kidding is gone, and there’s something there that maybe I missed before, or was too busy chatting to notice. But his words, I’d give my fortune away to see you pregnant with my kid, plow into me. He was serious.

  When I open my mouth to speak, he says, “Don’t say anything. Not yet anyway. My mouth ran away from me, and because of that, I don’t want you running away.”

  “Who says I’ll run away?” I ask softly.

  “Will you?”

  “No.”

  And his mouth crash lands on mine right as someone knocks on the door. Fuck! I forgot where we were.

  “We have to go,” I whisper frantically.

  He nods in agreement, as we both situate our clothing. When I reach for the door handle, he stops me. “Did you clean up? I didn’t use a condom. I hate to break this to you, but you don’t want my cum running down your leg during the match.”

  “Shit.” He hands me some tissue, and I quickly do the task. Then I look up at him, and he grabs me and kisses me hard. “You can do this,” he says.

  “What? Win?”

  “No, walk out of here and pretend I just didn’t fuck the anxiety out of you.”

  I snort with laughter and open the door, to the shocked faces of two elderly women.

  Mark puts his hand on my shoulder and says, “We’re sorry. She had a wardrobe malfunction and needed my assistance.” And he gives them a flirty million-dollar smile.

  They nod, and one of them says, “Oh, dear. That happened to me once, and I had to back out of a tournament I was playing in. I couldn’t keep my pants up.”

  “Such a tragedy, I’m sure,” Mark says. “But we’re all fixed here. I had to,” and he leans fo
rward and whispers something to them.

  “Well, goodness, it’s a good thing you were here, then,” the other lady says. “Good luck to you. Hope you have a great round today.”

  I nod and smile as we walk off.

  “What did you tell them?”

  Mark chuckles. “I told them I had to help you hitch up your bra because the strap broke and there was no way you could play like that.”

  “Jesus, I wear a damn sports bra when I play.”

  He shrugs. “No worries. They bought it.”

  “I hope you can’t see it through my shirt.”

  Mark leans back and announces I’m fine. We head toward the area where the other golfers are congregating, and Randy intercepts us with a huge, and I mean huge, grin on his face.

  “Boy, is the media waiting to pounce on you,” he says.

  “Why?” I ask. A deep suspicion forms in me.

  Randy’s smile fades as he shifts on his feet a bit. “They want photos of you and Justin.”

  Now that suspicion turns to anger. “And why would they want those, Randy?”

  “I, uh, well, Justin may have told them a thing or two about you getting back together.”

  Seething anger displaces suspicion. “And why would he do that?”

  Randy won’t look me in the eye, which explains something. He had a hand in this. “That kiss you two shared, you know.”

  Mark’s hand that was on my back is immediately gone.

  “That little fucker. He’s lying, and he trapped me. And what you saw wasn’t what you think it was.” I quickly turn to face Mark, and he’s looking at Randy. When I glance at Randy, he looks exactly like the thief who’s been caught red-handed.

  Randy asks, “Riley, what did I see out there, then?”

  Mark chimes in, “That’s what I’d like to know.”

  Gritting my teeth, I say, “I lost my balance as the jerk grabbed my wrist, and he took advantage of the situation. He pulled me onto his lap and kissed me. There was nothing I could do to stop it, but we had heated words afterward. Unfortunately, Randy witnessed that and assumed the worst, but didn’t stay for my explanation. And Randy, what I don’t get is that you knew how I felt about him.”

  Mark stiffens, and his hands fist. Randy shrugs and says, “Justin made it sound like you reconciled.”

  Catching Randy’s gaze, he knows I’m pissed. “And you went with that, without even checking with me.”

  Randy only shrugs, like it’s not a big deal to him. “We’ll get past this. We need to get you out on the course then.”

  “She’s not going out there to be around that shithead,” Mark says as he rises to my cause.

  Randy waves his hand, saying, “Justin is harmless. He only wants the attention.”

  “And he may get some—more than he bargained for if he doesn’t keep his hands off Riley.” Mark turns to me and says, “Let’s go,” and he starts to usher me out the other door.

  “Wait! You can’t do that,” Randy protests. “She’ll miss all the publicity.”

  “As her caddie, I’ll do what I think is best for her game, and right now, she doesn’t need the distraction.” His hand is on my elbow, steering me out of the room and away from the cameras, with Randy calling out my name.

  When we get outside, I remember that Ryder and Gina are on the other side, along with my clubs. “You stay right here, and I’ll take care of everything for you, Eagle.” He leans toward me and runs his finger down my cheek. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a dude with a camera lift it for a shot. Mark steps back before he snaps our picture. I chuckle.

  “What’s so funny?” I point in the direction of said picture taker. Mark grins and we pose for him, smiling, giving him some great shots. He even comes up to us, and we take some more close-ups.

  “Hey, thanks, Miss Wilde. I hope you have the best round of your life today.”

  “Thanks. And will you post those pictures everywhere to dispel the Justin and Riley rumor? There is not and hasn’t been a Justin and Riley for ages. It’s Mark and Riley now. And you can quote me on that.” The guy goes to leave, but Mark stops him and asks him to stay with me while he fetches my clubs, Ryder, and Gina.

  “If you do this, I’ll guarantee a family picture of the Wilde players.”

  “Man, that would be awesome.”

  While Mark is gone, I explain to the photographer what happened with Justin and how he “arranged” the accidental kiss. He lets me know he will pass it along to all his friends and be sure the other photos appear everywhere. It doesn’t take long for Mark to return, along with Ryder and Gina, and we give the guy his promised photo session. At about the time we’re finishing up, one of the clubhouse attendees drives around the side with a cart for us, but who shows up? Justin with Randy. What is it with Randy?

  “There you are, sweetheart.”

  Ryder looks at me and scowls. Mark takes a step forward and goes into attack mode. I’m almost ready to say, “Down, boy.” But I don’t have to. Ryder beats me to the punch.

  He steps between Mark and Justin and says, “Dude, my sister is only one guy’s sweetheart, and I’m pretty damn sure it isn’t you. So if I were you, I’d scurry along and get myself ready for the eighteen holes ahead.”

  But Randy isn’t letting this go. “Ryder, I don’t think you have all the details here.”

  “Oh, Randy, that’s where I’m certain you are one hundred percent wrong. I usually don’t speak for Riley, but I know her like no one else. That’s the way it is with twins. She has no more interest in spending time with Justin than she does a squirrel gathering nuts, but go ahead and ask her if you want. Ri?”

  “You’re exactly right and, Randy, I don’t know how else I can spell it out to you. Or to you, Justin.” Then I turn to Mark and ask, “You ready to head to number five? I believe that’s the hole I’m teeing off from, and I really want to spend time with my Make-A-Wish child and not debate this dead issue.” Turning to Ryder and Gina, I hug them both and then ask them to follow me along.

  “Wouldn’t miss it for the world, sis.”

  Mark and I hop into the cart and head to number five. Usually, we walk during tournaments, but since this is a charity event and some of the kids are a little too frail to walk, they’re having everyone drive carts. Once we hit the cart path, I thank Mark for standing up for me.

  “What’s Randy’s problem?” He wants to know.

  “I have no idea, but it may be time to find a new coach if he doesn’t drop this Justin thing.”

  “Riley, I’m not sure it’s Justin. I think it’s me.”

  “I don’t care. I’m the boss of my own life. I’ve hired him to help my game, and I appreciate his concern, but I’m not sixteen and can make good decisions.”

  Mark is quiet, and I’m not sure if it’s because he’s thinking about everything that happened or contemplating what I just said. Neither matters. I won’t let him walk away from me without discussing things. Even if he thinks Randy may be right, and I know Mark and I will have obstacles, we’ll have to deal with them and not avoid them altogether.

  MARK

  She’s a wonder to watch. Not only is Riley stunningly beautiful, her heart is made of gold. More and more, I see what a wonderful mother she will be some day. And didn’t that check off one of my boxes for a potential wife. I try to shake that thought away. I have to be crazy for thinking in those terms, except there she is giving her full attention to the family before her.

  Today isn’t about scores. It’s about the families. Not every golfer is able step away from their competitive spirit, but Riley makes a point to include every member of the family at each hole. She sacrifices shot after shot so the kids don’t feel as though they are lacking in any way. Her cheering as the child with terminal cancer hits the ball with what little strength he or she has makes me so damn proud she’s mine.

  A tug on my shorts has me glancing down. The youngest sibling glances up at me with wide eyes. I crouch down so she can speak to me eye to e
ye.

  “Why aren’t you playing?” she asks. “Do you not know how to?”

  “I’m here to be Miss Riley’s caddie.” That’s the name the kids were calling her. “Do you know what a caddie does?”

  She shakes her head and keeps her eyes downcast.

  “A caddie carries the clubs and gives advice as to what club to use.”

  Briefly, she raises her head. “Is that because boys are better than girls? At least that’s what my brother says.”

  Her brother stands off to the side, petulantly swinging a club at the grass. Tufts of it spray with each hit. The country club staff is going to have a time repairing the damage. Although Riley has included everyone, when she works with each one individually, she gives that child her full attention.

  “Boys are not better. I play golf, too, but if I play against Miss Riley, she’ll beat me every time. And that’s okay.”

  “Really?” she asks, eyes bright with possibilities.

  “Really. Girls can do anything boys do, and better. Anyone can do well with practice.”

  “Even my sister?”

  She points to the girl Riley is helping to take a swing off the tee. We were told in private by the parents they didn’t think their older daughter would live out the year.

  “Sure. With practice she will get better.”

  Delighted, the little girl darts off to share that news with her brother. I watch him scowl as she shares that information. I head over before he has a chance to kill her joy with his bad mood. It might not be my place, but the parents are otherwise occupied at the moment. No one can begrudge them for giving their dying daughter a little more attention at the moment. It has to be very difficult to manage the three children given the situation.

  “Hey,” I say to the older boy.

  He can’t be more than eleven, I guess.

  “Hey,” he says sullenly, toeing the grass with his sneaker.

  “You don’t like golf?”