Page 28 of On the Rocks

My jaw was hanging — and not from his shot.

“What do youmeanthat I ‘skipped off with Noah Becker’,” I scoffed, neck heating.

“I don’t know,” Dad said on a shrug. “I just heard them saying something about you and Noah Becker at the Black Hole when we were checking in for our tee times earlier.”

“We were at the same bonfire party, yeah. But, so was half the town.”

I glanced at Mrs. Landish again, who shook her head with pursed lips, saying something to her passenger seat rider before cruising off in her golf cart of gossip.

I rolled my eyes. “Honestly. And Mrs. Landish wasn’t eventhere.”

“She doesn’t have to be — not with the way news travels in this town.”

“News,” I spat, plucking my driver from my bag and stepping up to the tee. “Stratford needs a craft fair or something to keep them entertained.”

Dad chuckled at that, putting his own driver away before he leaned an elbow on our golf cart, watching me line up my shot. “Don’t worry about them. Someone else will do something equally as innocent and have them drawing other dramatic conclusions in no time.”

I smirked.

“But, just to be clear… youdidn’tskip off with Noah Becker in the middle of the night… right?”

I stopped where I was lining up my shot, leaning one hand on the butt of my driver as I leveled my face at my father. “Dad.”

He put his hands up. “I was just checking. You know the reputation those boys have. Gotta make sure my little girl is safe.”

I smiled, shaking my head as I got back to my shot.

My pulse ticked up a bit at the lie I’d told my father as I took a practice swing. Daddy was right — the Becker boysdidhave quite the reputation. But, if I was judging only by the Noah I was with Friday night, I would never understand why.

He was kind. And patient. And funny.

My smile widened remembering how focused he looked as he brushed his horse down and got him ready to ride. But, as soon as he’d popped into my mind, I shoved him back out.

Smack.

My own ball went flying down the green, landing about twenty-five yards shy of where Dad’s had. He cheered, clapping me on the shoulder as we watched the ball roll a bit.

“That’s my girl! Come on, you drive.”

The rest of the afternoon slid by easily, but I didn’t miss how Daddy was checking the time on his watch often. If I knew him, he’d likely scheduled out thepreciseamount of time it would take to get in a round of golf before he had somewhere else to run.

I was his daughter onhistime, but it didn’t bother me. I knew I wasn’t the only one who needed him. When you’re the mayor of a small town in Tennessee, you’re pulled a million different directions. And, if I was being honest, he inspired me. He was the reason I’d gotten involved with volunteering, the reason I hadn’t stopped at just showing up there, but took it into my own hands to make our nursing home the nicest in the county.

Dad was a doer, and he’d raised me to be one, too.

“So, how is my little girl?” he asked when we were riding out to the ninth hole later that day. “Ah, I don’t even know if I can call you that anymore, now that you’re an engagedwoman.”

I smiled, taking my sunglasses off to wipe the lenses as he drove. “I’m alright, Daddy. And I’m still your little girl — even after you walk me down the aisle.”

“Wow,” he breathed, and if he wasn’t wearing his own sunglasses, I’d have bet those hazel eyes of his were glossy. “It sounds so real when you say it like that.”

“It’s pretty real,” I mused, putting my glasses back on. “I bet you’re tickled pink that your baby girl is marrying a politician, just like you always wanted.”

Something in Dad’s demeanor changed then, and he cleared his throat, switching hands on the steering wheel. “Yes. Anthony is a good man. He’ll do right by you.”

I nodded. “Yes.”

We both fell silent again, and I watched him carefully, wondering why the sudden shift in his mood. But, as soon as he parked the cart, he was out and lining up his last shot. He glanced at his watch as soon as he’d hit the ball, turning back to me with a smile that told me he was cutting it close.