Page 58 of Summer Ever After
“Pete doesn’t know about golf gut.” He leans his hip against my cart, all cool and casual-like. “That’s privileged information reserved only for you.”
My smile grows. “How did I get so lucky?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugs, leaning in a little closer. “I guess I just really, really like you.”
If he has golf gut, I have Walker gut. It’s where my stomach flips over and over with excitement and butterflies. It’s wrong, but most addictive things are.
I want to take a step closer and say something cute back to him, along the lines of, ‘I really, really like you too.’ Okay, maybe notthat, but something that keeps the playful conversation going. But instead, I glance down, searching inside my purse for my keys, pulling myself out of Walker’s magnetic field.
“You should listen to Pete. He knows his stuff. If he says the problem isn’t your game, then you should trust him.” I dig around some more, but my new Sunny Palmer book is blocking everything. I pull it out, holding it in my armpit so I can see to the bottom of my purse. Yep, there are my keys.
“What’s this?” Walker grabs the book out of my arms, looking it over. “Secret Crush.” His glimmering eyes lift to me. “Sounds fun.”
“It’s a very good book.” I square my shoulders, answering like any devoted friend would. “In fact, it’s my favorite romance book of all time.”
“Yourfavoriteromance book of all time? Well, heck, if it’s your favorite, I better read it.”
All the butterflies from earlier drain out of my stomach like someone just pulled the plug on an above-ground swimming pool. Walker reading a romance bookjust for mewill do me in.
“Absolutely not.” I grab it out of his hands before he sees me coming.
“Why not?” The corner of his mouth lifts wickedly. “Is it spicy?”
“No! What’s wrong with you? It’s Sunny Palmer. Of course it’s not spicy.” I say it as if he should know who the real Sunny Palmer is, even though I know Capri has never told him.
“Jane, I wouldn’t judge you if you read spicy books. A straight-laced girl like you is bound to have a hidden wild side. It really wouldn’t be that surprising.”
My mouth opens to rebut, but nothing comes out. I drop my purse on the seat and climb into the cart. “I’m leaving,” I announce.
Walker laughs as he steps toward my cart, not away. His hands rest on the roof, allowing him to lean his head down into my space. A fruity aroma from his fresh haircut surrounds me, competing with the manly cologne I’m used to smelling on him.
“It was good to see you, Jane.”
I turn the engine on. “You always say that.”
“Because it’s true.” His perfect lips turn upward into the perfect smile—just a lot of perfection going on with him. “It’salwaysgood to see you.”
“I’ll look at my calendar and let you know a good day to schedule the golf fundraiser, okay?” I jerk the shifter into drive, but he still doesn’t move.
His hands alternate tapping on the roof of my cart. There’s something really obnoxious about that kind of sexy-casual confidence. “I can’t wait to hear from you.”
And I can’t wait to get out of here.
“Okay.” I push the gas pedal, slowly sending the cart forward. If I run over Walker’s toes, it’s his own fault for being in my space.
Walker
Tuesday night-movie night.I guess it’s a thing at Tala’s house.
And I guess I’m going.
I mean, I’m already here, standing on Tala’s front porch. The last step is to go inside. Jane said this family stuff would get easier the more I try—that’s what people say about golf, and it ain’t true.
But just in case Heath has a Ring doorbell camera, I stay put and knock on the door. Little footsteps inside tell me Jack or Serenity will answer.
It’s Jack.
“Uncle Walker!” Jack lunges forward, half tackling me, half hugging me. I haven’t been around kids much. Is it normal for them to be in love with you after one Sunday afternoon of teaching them golf? Judging by how tightly his arms cling to my leg, I’d say yes.
