Page 82 of Summer Ever After
Slowly, I unlock my arms from her body and scoot myself away to my own side so she can wake up on her own and still have a chance to make this trope work someday.
I lie on my back, glancing at the changing sky until pink and red overwhelm everything.
Jane sniffs in a big breath and glances over her shoulder. Her bleary brown eyes widen at me. “You’re awake.” She quickly sits up and runs her fingers through her hair. “Sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize.” I sit up too. “Did you sleep okay?”
“Um, yeah. I think so. What about you?”
A small smile lifts my lips. “One of the best nights I’ve had in a long time.”
“Good.”
In the distance, a boat engine purrs, and we both stretch our necks to see.
“Oh, my gosh!” She waves her arms over her head. “It’s Dill O’Donnell. He can help us so we don’t have to swim back.”
“Dill O’Donnell? That’s quite the name.”
She smirks at me while still signaling her arms in the air. “He’s quite the man.”
“Is Dill next on your list of men to date?”
“No!” she scoffs. “He’s married.”
“Then who is next?”
“No one this week. I’m getting my wisdom teeth out on Thursday and don’t want to look like a chipmunk during a date.”
“There aren’t any chipmunk tropes?”
“Not that I know of.” She laughs. “Oh, yay! He sees us. We’re going to be saved.”
I grab Jane’s arm, forcing her to look at me. “I meant what I said yesterday. You can’t stop your Summer of Jane Hayes. It’s going to work for you.”
She stares back at me, expressionless.
I lift my brows, needing to hear an audible response from her. “Okay?”
“Okay,” she answers just as Dill pulls up.
Walker
“I gotta say”—Petewipes the sweat from his brow as we walk from the eighteenth hole to the resort—“you surprised me today.”
“Yeah?” I eye him with a smile.
“Yeah.” He laughs, and it’s a nice change to see him so relaxed. “I thought you’d show up with a bad attitude and sulk through every hole.”
“Glad to see you think so highly of me,” I tease.
“Come on. You know what I mean.”
“I know. If you would’ve asked me last Thursday how I thought I’d play the day after the U.S. Open, I would’ve said the same thing.”
But when I got home this morning from being stranded with Jane, I didn’t feel anxious about looking up the winner of the tournament. I was happy for Chuck Rector when I saw the replay of him holding up the champions’ trophy. It was his first Major win, and you could see how much it meant to him. It was nice, for once, not to feel the pit of jealousy deep inside.
I push the strap of my golf bag farther up on my shoulder. “I’m just as surprised by my score today as you.”
