Going for the Hole

1. Lucas

1

LUCAS

“You sure this is a good idea?” My brother tossed me a shirt and I put it in my suitcase, along with a month’s worth of clothes.

Sighing, I zipped up my luggage and ran a hand through my hair. Aiden stared at me, his brows furrowed in concern. He looked like our mother with his light blond hair and blue eyes. She’d be giving me the same expression, if she were alive today. Sadly, we’d lost her five years ago.

“Look, I know what I’m doing.” I gestured toward the door. Down the hall was a whole room filled with nothing but my trophies. “I’ve won too many tournaments to count. Hell, I could quit now and be set for life. But I need a break, before I burn out.”

Aiden blew out a huff and threw his arms in the air. “All I’m saying is that you’re on a roll right now. You’re kicking a*s in the tour.”

He was right, I was. Competing in the PGA Tour had been the highlight of my life for the past nine years. No one had yet to beat my driving record. I had sponsors, a manager who happened to be my father, and a team of people who worked for me—including Aiden . . . my younger brother of five years, who also happened to be my well-paid caddy.

I picked up my suitcase and walked past him into the hallway. He followed me down the stairs to the front door, where his bags sat, packed up and ready to go. “Are you trying to say you don’t want an all-expense paid trip to Myrtle Beach?” I asked.

A slow smile spread across his face. “I want the damn vacation, brother. Don’t forget, I’m the pack mule who has to carry the clubs for your a*s. You wouldn’t make it one hole without me.”

“Exactly.” I burst out laughing, and his grin grew wider.

“I guess you know what’s best.” He looked serious once again. “And I want you to be smart about this. So, if you want to take a break, I’m all for it. Spending a month at the beach sounds pretty damn good to me. I just know our father’s not going to like it.”

My dad had a habit of being my manager first, father second, even though his intentions were good. He’d spent his life on the golf course, earning a name for himself. After my mother died, he passed his clubs down to me, along with his legacy. Aiden enjoyed the sport, but his talent laid with the calculations. He knew exactly what club to give me for each shot, and he was always spot on.

A car door slammed outside, and I opened the front door.

Noah Bradfield, my best friend since elementary school, lifted his arms in the air with the biggest smile on his face. “You ready, cocksuckers?”

Personal trainer by day, he was known by the media as my bodyguard—mostly because he was always around. I didn’t need one though, as I was more than capable of taking care of myself. But he liked the attention, and it broadened his business. Besides, the ladies loved him, and he was fun to have around.

“Hell yeah,” I shouted, tossing him one of my smaller bags. “Since I’m paying, you can load up the car.”

Groaning, he carried my bag to the shiny, black Cadillac Escalade and tossed it inside.

“Dad’s not going to like this,” I agreed, turning to Aiden, “but he’ll have to get the hell over it. I’ve given up nine years of my life. It’s about time I have some fun.” Granted, I belonged on a golf course. Out there, I felt at peace. Competing was a different story though. It could be stressful, wearing me down hole by hole. And lately, the pressure had become too much, especially with all the new blood joining the tournament each year.

Aiden reached down and picked up one of his suitcases. “Let’s put our worries behind us and go have some fun. I’m not going to ruin it for you.”

I patted him on the back. “Thanks, bud. I’d appreciate that.”

He picked up his other suitcase and loaded it in the back of my car. Noah rushed up the front stairs and rubbed his hands together. “So . . . what’s on the agenda tonight? I say we go to some strip clubs, cruise the strip, and get laid.”

Chuckling, I laid my arm over his shoulders. “Sounds like a plan.”