Summer Ever After: A Sweet Romantic Comedy

Chapter 10

“So you and Beau are done?”Cat follows behind me as we carry boxes of flowers through the Belacourt Resort lobby.

We’re helping Jaclyn VanTussen with the floral arrangements for the wedding later tonight. Jaclyn’s flower business is small but thriving. I’m here because I know how stressed she’s been about this event, but I have a feeling Cat is here to earn some extra cash. I told Jaclyn to give her my portion from today.

“Beau and I are just friends.” I set the box down outside on one of the tables and wait for Cat so we can return to Jaclyn’s golf cart for the last two boxes. “No amount of romance tropes are going to change that.” No matter how hard I push.

“I could’ve told you that.”

“Hey now.” I bump my hip into Cat’s. “This whole thing is a work in progress. Just because it didn’t work out with Beau?—”

“And Dax,” she adds with a smile.

I ignore her and continue. “Just because it didn’t work out with them doesn’t mean it won’t work out with somebody else.”

I mean, that’s what I keep telling myself because I’m all about positivity. But deep down, I’m scared my plan won’t work at all. And if I can’t find love with any of the men on this island, what happens next? Do I move and leave the only place I’ve ever called home, the place that I love? Or do I spend the rest of my life—or at least the foreseeable future—alone? I don’t like either of those options. Another reason to keep forging ahead with the Summer of Jane Hayes.

“So, who’s up next on your list?” Cat asks.

My chin lifts with pride as we walk back through the lobby. “I have a date with Blake Mickelsen tomorrow. We’re going to brunch and then over to the baseball field because he has a coed softball game.”

Blake is not a top contender on my list of single men, but we were talking at work yesterday, so I decided to ask him out. Why not? You never know ‘til you know.

“You’re watching Blake play softball for your date? How does that check off one of your romance tropes?”

“Well, first of all, a relationship with Blake is an office romance. You know, because he runs the parks-and-rec department on the island.”

“Oh, right. I guess that works.”

“Plus, I know what number he wears for his softball team, and I’m going to wear it. I’m hoping for one of those ‘You’re only wearing my jersey number’ moments.”

Her brows hover in confusion. “It’s city league. How can you wear his jersey?”

I grab one of the last boxes of flowers from the back of the cart, leaving the other for Cat. “I have access to all the extra team jerseys from over the years. I found Blake’s number in one of the old piles.”

“So that’s it? You’re going to wear his jersey number, and he’s going to get all possessive, and that’s supposed to magically make you guys fall in love?”

“No!” I groan against Cat’s skepticism, even though I’m skeptical of it myself. “It’s just the catalyst. If things go well, I’ll layer in a few more micro-tropes.” I just don’t know which ones yet.

“Maybe a foul ball could hit you in the head and knock you out. Then Blake could carry you in his arms to your bed and take care of you.”

I’m glad Cat’s finally catching the vision. “Exactly!”

I frown as that scenario sinks in. I definitely don’t want to get knocked out by a foul ball. There’s nothing romantic about that. I’m embarrassed that I was excited about that for one second.

“Or if you’re bleeding, he could bandage up your head.” Cat sighs. “Every time I’ve read that trope, the chemistry is off the charts.”

“Eh, I’m not really into that sort of thing.” I used to be until two nights ago, when I played that trope out in real life with Walker. And for me, the chemistry during the bandaging of Walker’s head wound was off the charts.

We step onto the patio just as Jaclyn passes by. “Those flower arrangements are the centerpieces.” She points inside our boxes. “One goes on each table.”

The next few minutes are taken up by work until Cat elbows me, gesturing to the nearest tee box on the resort’s golf course.

“Did you see Walker Collins is in town?”

I flip my gaze to where she looks and trail my eyes up and down that fine specimen of a man. He’s fifty feet away but close enough that my heart still beats erratically. Today, Walker wears white golf slacks, a black collared shirt (with the collar popped as if he’s trying to keep the sun off his neck), and a black hat.

It all looks very good.

Too good.

“Yeah, I’ve bumped into Walker a few times this week.” I turn my head away, arranging the vase of flowers on the serving table.

“Did you add him to your list of single men to date this summer? We hoped someone new would move in.”

“He didn’t move in. He’s just here practicing golf.” My voice is very matter-of-fact. When it comes to Walker, I’m keeping emotion out of everything.

“You can still try to date him while he’s here.”

“He’s not really my type.”

Cat laughs. “A six-foot-three professional golfer with dark curls, blue eyes, and a charming smile isn’t your type? I don’t buy it. Every girl in Sunset Harbor has had a massive crush on Walker Collins at some point in their life.”

My eyes bounce to him as he takes a swing. The golf ball flies through the air, and I lose it instantly in the clouds. Walker must see it, because he tilts, leaning way over as if he can somehow change the trajectory of where it’s going to land with just a body lean. When that doesn’t work, he chucks the club at his golf bag. Pete Luca puts his hands up in a reassuring way, obviously trying to calm him.

He really is struggling with golf, isn’t he?

I force my stare to Cat. “If you like Walker so much, why don’t you go out with him?”

The words hurt as I say them, but I’m Team Capri, so they have to be said.

“Me?” She glances over at him. “Been there, done that.”

Yes, I remember.

Summer between freshman and sophomore year.

I can still remember how devastated I was when Cat Keene kissed him on a dare.

“But you haven’t been there.” She looks at me with a mischievous smile.

“And I never will. Walker is like an older brother to me. So…” I don’t have to finish my thought. It’s the perfect excuse that no one ever challenges. Incest isn’t a popular romance trope.

I change the subject. “Are you going to the wedding at the hotel tonight?”

“Yeah, I’m going with Ivy. This is her cousin”s wedding so she’s coming to town. Do you want to come with us? There might be some cute wedding guests.”

“I haven’t seen Ivy in ages, but Capri is also in town tonight. I told her I would have dinner with her family.”

“What’s with everyone coming into town lately?”

“There’s always an uptick of locals at the beginning of summer.” I covertly swing my gaze to Walker. “But they’ll all go back to where they came from. They always do.”