Summer Ever After: A Sweet Romantic Comedy

Chapter 32

I grabthe shirt I left on the kitchen table before my morning run and wipe the sweat dripping down my face. Then I pick up my phone.

No notifications.

No new texts.

“Where are you, Jane?”

Looks like I’m going to have to take matters into my own hands.

Walker

Are you awake?

A few seconds pass before a reply pops up.

Jane

I’m still in bed but awake.

Walker

What time did you get home last night?

Jane

Two in the morning.

Walker

Does that mean you’re too tired to hang out with me today?

Jane

I probably should go to work for a couple of hours.

Walker

Is this your way of playing hard to get?

Jane

Is it working?

Walker

Everything you’re doing is working.

Jane Hayes has turned my world upside down. I’ve never thought about a woman the way I think about her. She consumes my thoughts night and day. Her smile, her calming influence, her ray-of-sunshine outlook on life…I crave it all. I want to scoop her in my arms just so I can keep her next to me and hear her talk—and I’m not opposed to kissing the corner of her pretty mouth while she does.

Jane

Then I guess I’ll keep doing it.

A crack of a smile drifts over my lips as I type out my next text.

Walker

I was under the impression you had Fridays off.

Jane

I do have Fridays off. But in case you didn’t notice, there was a pretty big party yesterday. Someone has to clean that up.

Walker

Okay, what about later today?

Jane

What did you have in mind?

Walker

Do you like golf?

Jane

I’ve never played.

Walker

I told you I was going to force lessons on you. How about today I teach you how to play golf? That’s one of your tropes, isn’t it? I think you said it involved wrapping my arms around you, pulling you close, and whispering instructions in your ear.

Jane

Someone was listening.

Walker

I’m always listening when it comes to you.

So what do you say? Will you let me teach you how to play golf?

Jane

I guess I can get behind that.

I smile, feeling a buzz of anticipation spark inside me.

Walker

How about three o’clock at the resort course?

Jane

Can’t wait.

Neither can I.

“You know,there are golf carts all around this island,” Jane says as she walks beside me to the first tee box.

Her bright skirt hangs on her hips in a way that’s going to drive me crazy all day. Add to that her fitted white T-shirt knotted in front, which gives glimpses of her torso just like yesterday, and it’s the perfect tease to torment me this afternoon.

“Yeah, I’ve seen the carts.”

“So why don’t we use one of them on the golf course?”

“That’s not what you do in golf. Real golfers walk from hole to hole.”

She eyes me with one of her smirky smiles that begs to be kissed. “At least I have you to carry the bag for me.”

I puff out my chest. “I’m a gentleman like that.”

“What about next week, during the fundraiser tournament? Are you going to make me carry my own bag then?”

“Nah, I don’t want you to get too tired.” I set the bag down at the tee, picking up the driver. “Are you ready for your first golf lesson?”

She steps back with her hands on her hips. “Yeah, show me how it’s done.”

“Nuh-uh.” I shake my head. “You’re up first.”

Ever since she told me about the trope where a man teaches a woman something, I’ve been dying to teach her how to golf. There’s nothing sexier than showing someone how to swing a club. Baseball might be a close second.

“I can’t be first. I don’t even know what I’m doing.”

“I’ll teach you.” I nod for her to join me. “Get over here.”

“What if someone sees us and tells Capri?”

I’ve been wondering how Jane was going to handle the whole Capri situation. One week ago, we had to be friends because Capri didn’t think Jane and I were a good idea, but that line was obliterated when we made out through the entire fireworks show.

I lean my weight against the driver. “I’m guessing you haven’t told Capri what happened last night.”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Are you going to tell her?”

“I will eventually.” Jane bites her lip, looking away like she’s conflicted. “It’s just…what’s the point of telling her right now and getting her all upset? I mean, you’re leaving next week, right?” Her eyes flick to me, and she pauses.

I’m not sure if her question is rhetorical, but I answer just in case it’s not. “Yeah, I fly out for the British Open next Saturday.”

“So this is just for fun.” She bounces her shoulders up and down. “It doesn’t mean anything. It’s all part of the Summer of Jane Hayes dating experiment.”

I hate her flippant attitude toward whatever’s happening between us, but she’s right. There’s an expiration date on our time together. I can’t stay in Sunset Harbor. My life, my career, my training facility, my caddie…they’re all in Jupiter. That town is literally the mecca for professional golfers. That all doesn’t go away because I feel something for a woman I’ve never felt before. Like she said, it’s complicated. I don’t want to over-promise and under-deliver. So maybe Jane is on to something. Maybe flippancy is the only way to handle it.

“I’ll tell Capri about us after you leave. By then, she’ll realize this was just for fun. Nothing more.”

“Whatever you want to do. I’ll leave that up to you.” I hold the golf club out to her. “But if someone sees us today and tells Capri, your excuse is going to be that we’re practicing for the fundraiser next week. Very innocent stuff.”

“You’re right. We’re just practicing for next week.” She takes the club and stands in front of the tee with her feet spread apart.

“Nice stance,” I say, raking my eyes down her body.

She looks over her shoulder with one raised brow. “Are you coaching me or checking me out?”

“A little of both, if I’m being honest.” A slanted grin spreads across my lips. “I’m an excellent multi-tasker.”

“Well, coach a little more, and gawk a little less.” She glances back at the tee. “Okay, what’s first?”

“A waggle.”

“A waggle?” Her head flops back to me with narrowed eyes. “That sounds like you’re still in your ogling phase.”

“No, I’m serious. Haven’t you ever heard of a waggle before? Golfers use it to loosen their bodies and get in the zone before they take their shot.”

“Fine.” She turns to the ball, slowly swaying her butt back and forth.

A hum of attraction trickles through me as I watch her hips.

We haven’t even touched yet, and I’m already dying.

“As much as I like that—and trust me, I do…” I step behind her, skimming my fingers down her arms until they close over her hands. A patchy breath puffs out of her when my lips brush against the shell of her ear. “…that’s not a waggle.” I move the club back and forth in a small, controlled, circular motion. “This is a waggle.”

“Oh.” She turns her head, just a fraction, but it lines our faces up perfectly. “What’s after the waggle?”

“You’re holding the club wrong.” My gaze stays fixed on her brown eyes as I reposition her grip so her fingers interlock properly.

She glances down at the club. “That feels weird.”

“Really?” I skim my lips over her neck, breathing in the smell of her skin. “Because I think it feels pretty good.”

“You know what I mean.” She laughs, letting her head fall back against my shoulder in the most inviting way.

Her arms go limp as I nuzzle her body closer to mine, diving the tip of my nose into the soft spot behind her ear where strands of hair gather at the back of her neck. Vanilla and lavender—the scent that’s only Jane to me now—wafts through my whole body as I take a deep breath.

“You’re not a very good coach.” The gratification behind her words tells me otherwise.

“I’m a little distracted right now.” My mouth tracks its way back to her jaw, leaving a trail of kisses in its wake.

Voices behind us jolt her head upright, but she doesn’t leave my arms. “We have to be careful,” she says, looking around. “People on this island love to gossip.”

And I’d love to give them something to talk about.

She squares her shoulders as if she means business. “Okay, back to the lesson. I waggled, and now I have the perfect grip. Am I ready to hit the ball?”

“Those are just the first steps.” I move her body with mine as I show her how to pull back and shift her weight. “Let the club do the work. Don’t guide it. If your body isn’t working well, you’re going to get too armsy.”

She glances over her shoulder with a smile. “Is that what you tell all the girls when you teach them?”

“No.” I press a quick peck to her lips. “You’re the only woman I’ve ever taught before.”

“I find that hard to believe.” Jane’s grin grows, and then she snaps her eyes around, making sure no one saw our kiss.

“Alright, now try it on your own.” I reluctantly take a step back so she can hit the ball.

“That’s it? That’s all the instruction I get?”

“I’m not giving you every lesson at once. If you get too good, you won’t need my arms around you to demonstrate anymore.”

Jane rolls her eyes before lining up with the ball again. She takes her time, focusing on the few things I taught her. She swings the driver back and then forward, extending her arms through the target line, sending the ball shooting through the air.

“Get in the hole! Get in the hole!” she yells, turning to me with a captivating smile. “They say that on TV.”

“Yes, I know.” She’s absolutely adorable. I’m smiling so big I’ll need a plastic surgeon to get it off my face at the end of the night. “That’s a really good shot for your first time.”

She chucks the club at me, barely giving me time to react. “It’s your turn.”

“Okay.” I line up to the ball and glance ahead at my target, then pull back.

“Good luck!” Jane says behind me, causing me to drop my arms mid-shot.

I turn to her. “You’re not supposed to talk in the back swing.”

“That’s the worst part about golf. Everybody is quiet.” She folds her arms. “It’s boring.”

“It’s sophisticated.” My eyes squint to a playful glare. “Now, do you mind if I take my drive?”

She holds her hands up innocently, as if she plans to keep her mouth shut this time.

I begin my process again, lining up my body. The driver”s head connects with the ball and sails into the palm trees on the right side of the fairway.

“Oh, boy.” Jane frowns. “Looks like silence didn’t help.”

“I meant to do that.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Yes, I did.”

“Why would you purposely put your ball in the trees? Are you just trying to let me win?”

“No.” I walk toward her, fixing my gaze on her brown eyes. “I plan on kissing you behind that big palm tree right there.” I point the golf club to where my ball landed. “So, the way I see it, that was the perfect shot.” I put the driver away and throw the bag over my shoulder as I head toward the trees. I glance back at her. “You coming?”

“Yes.” She stumbles after me.

I trudge ahead, suppressing my smirk.

Being on the course with Jane suddenly brings back all the things I love about golf. The excitement of shooting your first big shot. The complete control you have when you nail your mechanics. The excitement of never knowing where your ball is going to land. The challenge of playing against yourself. But the thing I love most is the game—just playing it for the fun of it.

Jane makes playing golf fun again.