Page 8 of Forever Wild

I smile, thinking of his mom, Brenda, and her love of puns.

“Hip, hip, hooray!” I chuckle at my own joke. “Glad to hear it. Well, I may have accidentally hit this guy’s ball today and then insulted him through unknown means.” Tony, whose sister I was friends with growing up and therefore knows about my lack of filter, laughs. “So can you put his drinks tonight on my tab?”

Tony glances between us, his eyebrows furrowing. “You want me to put Mr. Walker on your tab?”

I nod. “Yeah. Just this once.” But that name releases the memory that has been bouncing around my head. I turn, squinting at the man in question, trying to see past his annoyingly attractive beard. I stare harder at the dangerous cut of his jaw as my pulse kicks up.

“Wait. Did you just say Walker? As in Jameson Walker? The professional golfer?”

I start laughing. I can’t help myself. I called him a dentist when, in fact, he is one of the top golfers on the PGA Tour. Or at least he was until this last season when he became notorious for how quickly he fell. No wonder I thought I recognized him.

He dips his chin in acknowledgment.

“Oh God.” I continue chuckling. “I take it back, then. If I’ve learned anything from Nike and Titleist, it’s that I should not be seen sponsoring this guy.”

I slap my hand over my mouth. “And now I’ve insulted you again, the one thing that I came over to fix. Classic me, really,” I say, wishing I could find a rock to hide under forever. “I’m double sorry. Tony, keep his drinks on my tab, and I’ll go ahead and leave you alone so you have a chance at having any sort of a good night.”

I quickly walk back to our long table on the other side of the dining room, strangely aware of his eyes following me.

Is it possible to die of mortification? Maybe I can get some version of a shock collar that zaps me before I say things like that? I still have no idea what I did to offend him in the first place, but I guess, on the positive side of things, I do know what I said to offend him the second time.

Utterly embarrassed, I slouch down in my seat next to Becca, who is basically bouncing in her seat at this point.

“Guess what Kelli told us when she came over to take our order?! ‘Dick’ is actually Jameson Walker. Like, that Jameson Walker.”

“Yeah.” I bang my head against the back of the tall seat. “I found that out. It would’ve been helpful if Kelli could’ve shared that information about five minutes ago, before I completely made a fool of myself.”

Chapter four

Jameson

I watch the woman walk away, her long, brown ponytail swishing in time to her steps, her ass like a beacon in a pair of bright orange shorts.

With a concentrated effort, I pull my eyes back to my menu, pretending to study it as I mentally work through what just happened.

She didn’t know who I was. And, even once she did know, she didn’t try to stay, arrange to meet up later, or, hell, flirt with me. She insulted me. Again.

Who does that? Shit. I don’t even know her name.

“Tony,” I say, turning to look at my tall waiter. “Who was that?”

“Oh, that’s Bryn Harper. She’s a local.”

“A local, huh? How many locals are members out here, anyway?”

Tony shifts on his feet before answering. “I’m not exactly sure, Mr. Walker. I could go find the manager if you’d like me to.” Taking a deep breath, he continues, “Though you should know Bryn is here as her sister’s guest. They’re celebrating their other sister’s birthday, and I would really hate for the manager to get them in trouble. My sister is around their age, so I’ve known them my whole life. They’re good people. Bryn just doesn’t have a filter. She wasn’t trying to be mean.” Then he adds, as if an afterthought, “Sir.”

“Shit. No. That’s not why I was asking. I don’t want to get her in trouble,” I say as I run my hand down my face. “I may have even deserved it. I was just curious how many people from Wild Bluffs were members out here… Oh, and really, Tony, you don’t have to call me sir.”

Tony glances down at his order pad. “I don’t know the exact number, but there are a few. Maybe ten local members. The Harper girls grew up caddying out here, and Bryn even played out here during a few tournaments in high school.”

Thinking of the end of her swing that I saw today as she hit my ball, I can believe that. She clearly isn’t new to the game.

“Thanks, Tony. That’s more than I anticipated. I suppose I should probably let you get back to your job. I’ll take the burger with avocado and sweet potato fries on the side. Hold the bun. And a whiskey on the rocks. Blanton’s if you’ve got it, please.”

“You’ve got it, Mr. Walker.”

As I wait for my dinner, I catch tidbits of the conversation floating over from the birthday party in the corner. Apparently, one of the women just went through a bad breakup and is taking a hiatus from the dating scene. Here’s hoping that goes better for her than it has been going for me.

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