CaddyGirls (22 page)

More cheers erupted around them. Torrey broke the kiss and looked back over her shoulder at the tee area. Everyone—including her foursome and the caddies—had turned their way, their applause louder for the kiss than for any of the golf shots.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” she choked out. Her heart pounded so hard she could barely hear her own words.

“I had to come,” Julian said. “It’s such an important day for you. I couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.”

Franny pulled at her elbow. “Torrey, I’m sorry, but we’ve really got to go.” Torrey looked around and realized that her playing partners had started to stride down the fairway.

She took Julian’s hands and squeezed. “Don’t you dare go anywhere until after I finish.”

“Are you kidding?” he laughed. “I’m in Torrey’s Army today. I’ll see you up at the green.”

Torrey gave him another enthusiastic kiss and then scrambled to follow Franny and the other members of her foursome up the fairway.

Since her drive had been the longest, she had to stop and wait while the other three players hit their second shots. Her heart still pounded, and she knew it wasn’t from the brisk walk up the fairway. Her mind whirling, she felt dizzy with anticipation over what he would say—what
she
would say—the next time they had a chance to speak.

But right now she had to work, and work she would.

“The seven please, Franny.”

“You’re going to tell me what that stuff back there at the tee was all about, right?” Franny’s eyebrows arched as she handed Torrey the iron. “A surprise visit from your boyfriend?”

Torrey gave her a playful smile. “Stop being so nosy.”

“I’m, like,
so
jealous. He’s totally hot.”

“Franny, if I’m not mistaken, caddies are supposed to be quiet,” she said, giving her a gentle reminder.

“Uh, right. Sorry,” the girl mumbled, moving away.

Torrey gave Franny a quick wink as she moved over her ball.

With an outer calmness that belied her jangling nerves, Torrey stroked a solid approach shot, leaving herself a twelve-foot putt for a birdie. When she and Franny strode up to the green, she forced herself to shut down her racing thoughts and focus on getting the ball into the hole. It would be damn difficult, as Julian stood no more than ten feet off the putting surface.

When it was her turn, she took up her stance over the ball, certain of the line and speed. Still, though, she couldn’t shake the familiar anxiety that had always made putting the weakest part of her game.

Her mind flashed back to a few weeks ago when she’d played for the OTE partners. What had Julian said when she blew her first-hole birdie putt during that crucial round?

You’re already a success. Whatever happens in golf isn’t going to change that
.

He was right. She had fought her way back from losing everything that had ever mattered, and look where she was now. That was what her dad had always taught her—that the win was in the fight and how you played the game.

She glanced up from her putt, directly into Julian’s steady gaze. He grinned and gave her the thumbs-up sign.

The nervous tension drained from her hands and wrists, transforming her grip on the putter into a gentle embrace. Her father’s voice whispered in her mind.

There’s only you and that little white ball, and you’re going to send it straight down the rabbit hole. You can do it, Torrey.

She took a deep breath, held it, and brought the putter forward in a smooth, delicate stroke. Struck cleanly, the ball rolled true, exactly on the line she’d chosen, and curled two inches to her right before dropping in the dead center of the hole.

Torrey pumped her fist out of sheer exhilaration and relief. As she pivoted toward where Julian had been standing, she saw he’d disappeared. Momentarily flustered, she reached down into the cup to retrieve her ball, handed it and the putter to Franny, and strode across the green toward the asphalt path leading to the next hole.

Julian waited for her a few feet off the path, sunglasses tilted back into his hair.

“Franny, go on ahead—I’ll be right there,” Torrey instructed her caddy.

“But you’ve only got a minute or so,” Franny answered.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be there. Trust me.”

Julian pulled her close. The warmth of his body and his intoxicating scent—now so achingly familiar—sent tendrils of fire racing through her veins.

“I know I’ve got to be quick,” he said, “but I’ve got to say this. Torrey, sweetheart, I’ve missed you more than I ever thought I could miss anyone.” His voice deep and low, he spoke softly into her ear as he splayed his hands across her back. “I’m sorry and ashamed that I dragged you into the middle of that stupid bet. I didn’t know how much it would hurt you, but I sure as hell should have. I was self-absorbed and just plain thick.” He sucked in a deep breath, searching her face. “Can you forgive me? You have to believe I never meant to hurt you, and I’ll never hurt you again.”

Torrey looked up into his eyes. They spoke to her of the struggle he’d gone through.

“I love you,” he finished gently.

She swallowed the joyful tears that threatened her composure. “I’d given up hope that I’d ever hear you say that,” she blurted out. “You big knucklehead.”

“I know. I’m an idiot.”

“No,” she smiled, resting the flat of her palms against his brawny chest. “You’re a guy. I know guys sometimes do loony stuff like that, thinking it’s harmless. But at least you figured it out. Took you long enough though.”

The corners of his lips began to turn up. “I think that means you forgive me?” His smile was tentative, as if he had no idea what her response would be.

“Of course I forgive you.” She sighed. “Besides, you were right when you told me that if it hadn’t been for the bet, we would never have met.”

Everything happens for a reason
. Her dad had always said that to her, and now she knew it was true.

“Thank God.” He kissed her, long and deep, with a passion that left her trembling.

“Hey, Torrey! You’re up!” Franny’s voice boomed from the second tee.

Torrey gently pushed him away. “And in case you’re still wondering, I love you too.”

She turned and ran down the pathway to her future.

You can drain this, Torrey. Right in the center of the hole
.

Torrey stood over the ball, concentrating on controlling her breathing before she stroked what she desperately hoped would be her final putt. No more praying to the fickle gods of fate. She knew her future lay in her own hands, not anyone else’s. And certainly not in any capricious, all-controlling universe.

The road to the LPGA Qualifying School’s final round had been long and hard. In September, after a scorching summer on the road where she’d burned up courses from Reno to Austin, Torrey had pointed her car south to the Mission Hills Country Club in Rancho Mirage, California, where the western sectional qualifying tournament would take place. With the indomitable Franny on her bag, as she’d been all summer, Torrey’s string of successes continued at the sectional event. She finished third in a field of one hundred seventy players, easily qualifying for the final round at the LPGA International course in Daytona Beach in early December. All through October and November she’d continued to hone her game in preparation for the make-it-or-break-it final round, where only seventeen LPGA tour cards would be handed out, and over a hundred talented golfers would go home heartbroken.

She’d had a good week in Daytona. With four rounds in the low seventies, she’d entered the final day at three under par for the tournament. Now, hovering over her putt on eighteen, her card for the day stood at even par, but she needed to bury this eight-foot par putt to finish with that score. And holding onto her three-under total tournament score meant everything, since it was clear that three-under would be the cut line separating the seventeen who got their tour-exempt cards from the next forty women who would have to settle for conditional status. Only the tour-exempt card would guarantee Torrey a spot in all the LPGA events she wanted to enter the following year.

She raised her head and stole a quick glance at Julian. His legs wide apart and his arms crossed over his chest, he stood like some bronzed god in the front row of spectators that circled the massive, undulating green. He’d taken the week off to fly to Daytona and had been everything she could have asked for—from chauffeur to massage therapist to ass-kicking motivator. Not to mention five-star sex partner. She loved him more every day.

Julian’s face betrayed none of the tension she knew he had to be feeling. When she caught his eye, the corners of his mouth turned up in a smile. With a slow, short nod, he told her he knew she would make the tricky putt.

The putter that had too often been her enemy in the past had gradually morphed into her best friend. Six months of daily practice and tournament play had sharpened her skills to the point where her wrists no longer trembled before she stroked a crucial putt. She had faith—the kind of faith in herself that her father had instilled in her but that had gone AWOL when she found herself an orphan. Now she had it back—faith in her game, faith in herself, and faith in the man she loved.

Torrey brought the putter on a smooth arc through the ball. She had no doubt from the instant she made contact. The line and the speed were perfect, and she raised the club in triumph as the ball fell in over the lip. Since she was the last in her foursome to putt out, she didn’t have to stifle her reactions—so she threw her visor into the air, gave Franny a quick hug and raced across the green into Julian’s outstretched arms. He hoisted her into the air, then set her down and pulled her against his chest.

A split second later, another set of arms closed around her from behind.

“We’re going to the Tour! I can’t believe it—we’re going to the Tour!” Franny jumped up and down, trying to hug both Torrey and Julian at once.

“We sure are, Franny. We sure are,” Torrey laughed, easing back from Julian’s grasp.

“Six months ago I was just a kid signing up for the local tournament,” Franny gushed. “Now I’m going to be an LPGA caddy. It’s just awesome!”

Torrey slid her arm around Julian’s waist and pressed her head against his shoulder. “Six months ago I was a rent-a-caddy, Franny, almost ready to give up on my dream.” She looked up at Julian, her heart swelling with love. “Then I met Julian, and everything became possible.”

Julian shook his head. “No, that’s not right. You did this yourself, honey, and you deserve it. Now,” he said, giving Franny an affectionate poke on the shoulder, “if you’ll excuse us, my dear Ms. McCourt, I’m going to take my fiancée out for a celebration.”

“And what kind of celebration do you have in mind, sir?” Torrey said with a grin as they left Franny and strolled, arms around each other’s waists, toward the scorer’s trailer.

“The same kind I’m sure you’re thinking of,” he answered, his hand dropping to caress her hip. “But I want to talk to you about something, so first we’re going for a drink. Go turn in your card and get everything sorted out. I’ll wait for you here.”

“Oh, sure, leave me in suspense,” she laughed, heading into the trailer.

Torrey hurried to confirm the scorecards, anxious to get back to Julian. As soon as she emerged from the trailer, Julian swept her into his rental car and back to their hotel.

“Come on, out with it,” she ordered as soon as they were through the door to their suite. “After all this waiting, this had better be good news!”

“I think you’ll be happy,” Julian said. “I’ve thought hard about this for months, and I finally know it’s the right decision. I’ve decided to step down as president of the company.”

“What?” Torrey blurted out, as astonished as if he’d confessed to being a secret agent. “Why, Julian? Why would you want to do that?”

“Because all I’ve been able to think about since September is how little time we’d have together when you go out on tour. You know how crazy your schedule is going to be in the New Year. And mine would be just as bad. And I don’t want to settle for just one day a week with you—it’s as simple as that.”

Torrey’s heart pounded so hard she could barely breathe. “You know I don’t either, but are you sure you can do this? What’s going to happen to the company?” They’d talked endlessly about how they’d have to pay a big price for her success, and both knew they’d have to accept the bad with the good.

“Brendan will take over the day-to-day operations. He’s ready for it, and he’s earned it. And I’m not disappearing completely—I’ll still be Chairman of the Board and the public face of the company. But I’ll have a whole lot more time on my hands.”

Torrey felt like she’d won the lottery twice in the same day. She couldn’t believe the sacrifice Julian was willing to make. She threw her arms around his neck and planted a kiss on his willing lips.

“And what are you going to do with all that time on your hands?” she finally murmured.

“Well, I figure you’ll need a manager now, won’t you? And maybe a travel planner and chauffeur? I have pretty good skills, and I’m prepared to work cheap.” Julian grinned as he tilted her chin up for another kiss.

Torrey’s heart overflowed with love. “Julian Grant, golf husband. Now that’s a career change I can go for.”