Page 110 of Summer Ever After
“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 ustoday 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. “Thisis 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 onher 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.
