Chapter 5
Chuck: Talk about a flashback.
Lou: We are back in the past. This can’t be good.
Chuck: Maybe it’s their origin story, like an early tee time.
Lou: It’s like two amateur golfers just swinging in the wind.
Sunshine filters in from the windows of the restaurant within the Mossy Oaks Clubhouse. When I decided to take a year off from my MBA, I never imagined I would be here of all places. I’ve never played a game of golf in my life but I saw the opening and applied. Whodathunk I would get the role?
I cut into my syrup-soaked waffle and pop it into my mouth; my eyes widen in surprise at how fluffy and sweet this waffle is, how the butter and sugar mingle.
It’s really good, like really good. This is everything I need this morning.
We have a new golf pro starting today, and though new hires are generally wonderful, the paperwork is not my favorite.
“How are you doin’ today, Miss Reyes?” Glen asks. He’s one of the managers here meaning he is responsible for the course and whatever other events are going on around here. I make a mental note to figure out all the golf lingo now that I’ve been here for a couple months.
I smile at the older gentleman. “Hey, Glen! I’m doing pretty well today. Just getting some breakfast in before I start my day. How are you?”
“Absolutely peachy. As you know, we have a new golf pro comin’ in today.
I don’t want to chat up your ear while you’re off the clock, but he’s one of our own.
Born and raised here in Cypress Lake. When you are all done with his paperwork, would you mind bringing him down to my office?
” he says, as he does, in fact, eat into my waffle time.
“You bet!” I reply, far more perky than I actually feel, making me all the more grateful for having a small Keurig in my office.
As Glen makes his way to his office, I take another bite before I stand.
The Keurig isn't going to do what I need at the moment; I need an espresso stat.
Placing my napkin on the table, I walk toward the bar to place an order for a small cup of caffeine.
“Hey, Kels.” I wave to one of the girls inside the kitchen. “Would you mind making me an espresso? I’m in major need.”
“Of course, Lo. You know I got you, girl,” she says in only the way she can, with a joyful attitude I’ve grown to love.
From the corner of my eye, I watch as a handsome stranger slides onto the stool next to me. His white golf polo accentuates his deep tan skin, and I find it hard to focus on anything but him.
“Good morning.” His voice is smooth and rich. Having him whisper sweet nothings in my ear would be a fucking dream.
I tilt myself in his direction, not fully facing him but giving him some of my attention. When I reply, there’s a soft smirk gracing his face, and I find I have one too, “Good morning. Are you placing an order for something? The chef and staff here are wonderful.”
“I'm a few minutes early and figured a coffee wouldn’t hurt.” He must have an early tee time.
“Let me help with that, if you don’t mind of course.” When he nods his head, I ask, “Sugar and milk?”
“Sure.” Simple yet effective.
I turn in my seat and call toward the kitchen again, knowing she’ll hear me, “Hey, Kels, would you mind adding another coffee to my order?”
When I face him again, his full attention is on me, and the weight of it is both nerve-wracking and exciting.
He leans on the counter as I fidget with the pocket of my slacks, but I face him all the same.
There is something about a confident man that tells me he is a grown man, and this one may just have his eyes set on me.
My chest warms at the thought of a little bit of fun.
“Beautiful weather,” is all he says, and I giggle a bit.
“You really want to talk to me about the weather?” I counter. Who wants to talk about the weather? No one.
“Actually, no. But starting with ‘You’ve got the kind of smile that ruins a man’s focus’ feels a little bold before I even know your name.” He pauses, as a crooked grin spreads across his face. “Not that I’m opposed to bold.”
I fake a choked gasp before responding with, “Well, boldness is always better than small talk.”
Kels leans over the bar, passing us both our coffees, and when I grab mine, I quirk my eyebrow at him. “So are you going to introduce yourself, or are we leaning into mystery?”
He taps the side of his cup and takes in my full figure as I stand, and his grin widens. “How about a trade: a name for a number?”
Already walking to my office, “Bold,” I call over my shoulder.
“I like it.” I take a quick sip of the piping hot coffee with a smile plastered across my face.
Smooth and hot, just the way I like it. I haven’t decided if I’m talking about the coffee or the mysterious golfer until I make it to my office.
Definitely the golfer.
I set my coffee down and power up my computer, wanting to get all the details for the new hire before they’re brought up here.
The club’s human resources director has been out sick this week, and the person assisting him has been slow to get me the things I need, which is exactly why I have no idea who the hell I will be touring through Mossy Oaks after they finish up with their paperwork.
Almost an hour passes as I gather the last bits of documentation from the printer and finish organizing the new hire file before I hear a knock at the door. That must be the receptionist with the new hire.
I finish off the email to Glen, letting him know I will be bringing the pro to his office in the next hour, and shout for them to come in.
“Miss Reyes, I have Mr. Clinton Morrison here for you.” When I meet the new pro’s gaze, I’m met with the handsome stranger from the bar, and a delicious chill runs down my back.
He must feel the same thing because he walks right up to me with his hand stretched out. “Nice to meet you, Miss Reyes. Beautiful weather indeed.”
I scoff a little, laughable disbelief pulling at my lips, as I welcome him in. “I do love a hot day.”
Forcing myself to look away from the fine-as-hell stranger I’ll be welcoming to the Mossy Oaks family, I turn back to Sage. “Thank you for bringing him to my office, Sage.”
As I stand, I hold out my hand to shake his. “Welcome to Mossy Oaks, Mr. Morrison.”
“Thank you, Miss Reyes, but you can call me Clinton.” His tone is laced with formality, but the glint in his eyes shows me he’s still the same flirt from the bar downstairs. “Should I call you…” He lets his voice trail off.
“Paloma is fine.” Rounding the corner of my desk, I pull out the folder Glen gave me earlier, before sliding it over to Clinton. “What brings you to Mossy Oaks?”
He flips it open, clicks a pen, and begins to fill out the documents.
“I’ve got a little under a year before my next tour, and I figured why not keep up my game while offering some help to my favorite course.
” His hazel gaze is on me rather than the folder under his hand.
A warm satisfaction sizzles over my body with his eyes roaming over much more than my face.
“We’re glad to have you, Clint.” I shorten his name, exaggerating the t, letting my eyes linger on the material bunching around his lean and muscular arms. “I can scan those in and you’ll be all set to go.”
“You trying to get me out of your office, Miss Paloma?” His flirty tone is still in full force.
A giggle slips through my lips. “Actually, you have a meeting with Glen in a few minutes. Besides, I can’t keep you all to myself.”
“You could.” He wets his lips, and my eyes track his tongue. I have got to get this man out of my office before I let him bend me over this desk and—absolutely not. I can feel the blush creeping up my skin from my thoughts.
Sending a quick instant message to Glen, I let him know Clinton is ready for him. With him only a few doors down from me, he’s at my office door before I get the chance to say anything else to the office’s new eye candy.
“It was nice to meet you, Paloma. Maybe we can enjoy the weather together on the course one of these days.” He has no idea I can’t play a lick of golf, but maybe he’s the reason I start.
Before he makes it out the door, I stop him. “Oh, and Clint?” He pauses at the open door, and I think of his question from earlier. “If you need to reach me for anything at all, my contact information is inside the folder.”