Chapter Six
Irn-Bru: Carbonated Scottish soft drink. Tastes like? No one knows, but it’s awesome. Looks like? Orange toxic waste. Pronounced: Iron Brew.
Boggin: Adjective, dirty, disgusting, smelly. Pronounced: Bog-in.
* * *
Hunter - 4 weeks later
I’m tired. There’s no other word for it.
A solid month of intensive training and strengthening has been relentless, and our new daily training routine here in Scotland has really taken its toll on my body.
As a professional golfer, I’ve always been fit and healthy. I feel strong but blow me; I need a break. I am goddamn tired. My limbs feel like lead weights today.
On the bright side, my back feels better than it has in months. I've had a few twinges now and again, but nothing to write home about. The team isn't worried and I’m surprised my back isn’t giving me more grief given the new plan my coach and best buddy, Luke, has been putting me through. He’s upped the pace massively on all fronts. No wonder I’ve been stifling yawns and forgetting things in the last few days.
It’s a means to an end. We have a purpose and I’m driven. I’m finally feeling good about my form, control, and swing. I’ve improved mentally and physically, and everything seems to be falling into alignment.About time.
My body giving out on me under four years ago gutted me, and I felt like I’d let everybody down. My team, the fans, my mom. Watching the fallout of my demise over social media was more painful than my back at one point. They couldn’t understand how I had been fine one minute and then down on my knees the next.
It was my fault for not seeking help sooner. Popping painkillers, letting my pain and injury spiral out of control.
Almost, and I really mean almost falling down the rabbit hole of medication dependency. Thankfully, my team never let me get that far.
They dragged me to my senses. They made me seek the help of consultants and surgeons I so desperately needed.
I don’t know where my head was at in those moments, but I clearly wasn't thinking straight.
I just wanted to keep going, touring, competing, winning.
As a Major tournament winner, I was approved for a Major Medical Extension, allowing me to keep my tour card.
As soon as I was fit enough, I was getting sponsor invites again left, right, and center, and I’ve played all the specified events in order for me to hold on to my tour card. Being a major winner sure has its perks. It took another eighteen months to work my way back up the world rankings. It was tough some days, but I did it.
I’m pumped to be competing in golf tournaments again fully. Bring it on. Although I’m not sure I’m prepared for all the traveling, press, sponsorship negotiations, and prepping we do. I find that part of my job less than thrilling and exhausting. Press conferences don’t float my boat. They’re necessary, but not fun.
The only good part about traveling now is owning a jet—well, I am part owner along with five other golfers, meaning I can travel in peace. No more bothersome air crew pestering me with hopeful eyes to join the mile high club. Yeah, that got boring pretty fast throughout the early part of my career.
I couldn’t be in a better place location wise either. Castleview Cove feels like coming home. I was here four years ago, when I won my first Championship Cup. I fell in love with the place and left a little of my heart here. Even better, winning on the world's oldest and most famous golf course, The Champion. It was pretty special.
It all went downhill after that.
I’d been in pain and having spasms for months but said nothing and kept on pushing through the grief in my back. At thirty years old, I never thought for a minute I would have to undergo major back surgery.
When I started limping about three weeks after winning, my back went rapidly downhill. I was at the top of my game too. Known for my power, speed, and distance, I had it all. And then the Universe threw me a curveball. A degenerated lower disc in my back was the epicenter of all my discomfort. When I sat with my team and surgeon on the day of the results, it felt like the only thing I knew how to do was slowly slipping away from me.
The news and the scans and everything around me are a big blur from that day. It felt like I was in a tunnel and everyone around me was whizzing by. “Never play again.” “Long recovery.” “Risky surgery.” Those phrases were banded about like they were handing out candies.
I’ve never been more scared in my life. Since the age of ten, all I ever wanted to do was be a golfer. Growing up in Seminole, Florida, I learned on the beautifully built courses and learn from the best too. It was coaching at its finest.
Thinking of home, I am craving some sunshine. Scotland is stunning, but, man, it’s cold and unpredictable. You seem to get sunshine, rain, and wind all at the same time. But then it's warm one minute and freezing the next. And the wind. Jesus Christ, it’s fresh.
Coming here to Castleview Cove with my team was the best decision I have made in ages, and believe me, I’ve made some pretty stupid decisions in the past. Jess. Now she was a king-sized one. Let’s not go there.
In fact, fuck it, let’s go there.
Jess, my ex-girlfriend. The bitch that wormed her way into my life with claws so sharp I didn’t even notice them going in. I was blinded by all the fake blond hair and boobs to match. It only took a few months for it to turn sour, but I stuck with her for way longer than I should have. Our relationship sucked. It threatened tournament games on more than one occasion. She sucker punched me left, right, and center, and she turned me into someone I didn’t recognize. She brought out the worst in me. Things went rapidly downhill between us. Turns out she was also fucking around behind my back when I was touring.
Jax, my agent, had great pleasure in informing me. Asshat. Jax Parks—stupid fucking name—is my agent. He’s also a sleazy dick, but he gets me the best sponsorship deals. I’m so relieved he’s only flying in for the tournament days because dealing with him daily is enough to make you voluntarily push yourself off a cliff.
When I returned from winning the Championship Cup, I confronted Jess about breaking up and she pulled the “I’m pregnant” card, insisting the baby was mine. It was a ruse to keep me. I actually convinced myself that it would be great and having a baby might settle her down.
A few weeks later and once it was announced I was unfit to play, she confessed her lies, showing her true colors. All she wanted was the money and the fame. Once I faded into the shadows, she was there with me too. But she wanted spotlights. The glamor. The attention.
Money and fame changes people. Me, I've never changed; I’m still Hunter King from Seminole who loves to shop at Target and still does his own grocery shopping. I’m just able to buy the nicer things I want from time to time. Like the time I surprised my mum with a new house.
Mom has tirelessly supported me throughout my golfing career. My father unexpectedly passed away when I was twelve. He would have been so proud to witness my first big win. My mom and dad were my biggest cheerleaders. Mom still is. She’s joining us for the tournament with my stepdad once they’ve finished cruising around the Mediterranean.
I never loved Jess. Cared for her, yes, but not love. There was never any closeness. The only time she made me go weak at the knees was when the monthly credit card bill came in every month. Who needs that many shoes?
I loved the idea of coming home to someone. Cozy nights on the couch. Movie night. Meals out. But she wanted to party all the time and rub shoulders with stars and celebs. So not my thing at all. I really wanted someone to share my love and excitement for my wins. It turns out she was never interested in my profession. She liked the competition money wins, though. Oh, yes, she did.
I was so good to her too. I never cheated on her. In fact, I’ve never cheated on any of my girlfriends. I appeased her endlessly. Showered her with gifts, but nothing was ever good enough. She wanted more and more. And more partying.
Eventually I kicked Jess out of my house and told her to fuck all the way off and to keep ongoing. Best decision ever.
However, being here in Castleview Cove, this may actually be my greatest decision ever.
Contentment has well and truly settled into my bones. My recovery has been a long and arduous one. Some of those days felt dark and hopeless. I’ve paced myself. I’ve gotten strong. I put the work in. I’m back.
My team was fully on board when I suggested a three-month intensive retreat, not just for me but for them too. Who wouldn’t jump on the ‘let’s spend three months in Scotland’ boat?
Especially when it’s all-expenses-paid and they can bring their loved ones if they want. Not that any of them seem to have anyone of great significance in their lives at the moment. So we’re all here flying solo together. We travel a lot, so most of us never have the time for relationships. Traveling complicates everything. I’ve had a few one-night stands and some casual dating.
Jess was a mistake I won’t make again, and the sex was meaningless. It was just sex, and we lived entirely different lives. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking. I’ve never found ‘the one’.
Again, the joy of tournament life.
Could Eden be the one? She seems different from anyone I’ve dated before. You’re not dating her, Hunter. Get a grip.
Clear your head for the game…
I’ve given the team the weekend off. I’m looking forward to the next few days. Pippa, my assistant and little sister, flew in today for the rest of our stay. My team works hard for me. They all want the best and they need this as much as I do. A break. A new plan. Get strong. Win.
My body groans into the soft sofa. Hands behind my head, I relax into it, and take in the surroundings of my cozy cabin.
I’ve spent little time here aside from sleeping with all the training I’ve been sticking to. But tonight I am going to sit on my ass and enjoy the peaceful views across the estate. I’m definitely lighting the wood burner ’cause even in June, Scotland is freezing. It’s really not summer. I can vouch for that. I crave the warmth of home in Florida.
A solo Netflix and chill for me with the fire blazing. ’Cause why not? I’ve been having sex with my hand for months now, so no difference there. What a loser. I have this glorious life and no one to spend it with. Romantic night in and meal for one, please. Pathetic.
Although my team, and when I say my team, they're my friends—scratch that, they’re my family—we’re all having a break for a few days, but inevitably we’ll always end up spending our days off together, anyway.
I know Pippa mentioned she wanted to go out dancing tomorrow night; she’ll drag us all along for that. There will be no complaints from the boys about heading out for a night out. Luke and Evan are my dream team. They’re built like brick shithouses and attract women like bees to pollen.
Luke is a phenomenal golf fitness instructor slash coach, and Evan is my personal trainer and physical therapist. Both push me to my limits and beyond, always striving for me to be the best. It hurts when they push me, but damn are they good. Since my back operation, the team’s focus has always been on winning the Championship Cup again. So here we are, back in Castleview Cove.
I employ a couple of bodyguards from time to time, Liam and Noah, but only for the tournaments themselves. You’ve no idea how deranged some fans have become over the years. I must get at least a dozen marriage proposals every week. The women on Instagram are pretty forward. Oh yeah, I have no idea who you are, but of course I’ll marry you, darling. Yeesh.
I would rather not have bodyguards. It seems ridiculous to me, but they keep me safe from the crazies when I’m playing a golf tournament.
This is our first chill out weekend since we arrived. I want to head to Castle Cones tomorrow because I’m now twenty-seven flavors into my ice cream bucket list challenge Eden assigned me.
Ah, Eden. Before I get to Eden… Who the hell ever thought Irn-Bru ice cream was a good idea? And what the actual fuck is Irn-Bru, anyway? No one, not even the Scottish, knows what the hell it is. It’s like a fizzy drink that’s totally indescribable. Shocking neon orange. It looks like Oompa Loompa piss. Maybe that’s what it is? Hmm, it could be, you know.
And don’t get me started on marmalade and haggis ice cream. I’m sure that’s gotta be an April Fool’s joke. Please tell me it is. Sounds boggin. Boggin, this is another new word I’ve learned since being here. Means vile.
I love the Scots. Not only are they charming and funny, but they treat everyone like family. Kind and generous, too. Eden’s parents, Charlie and Edith, have welcomed me with open arms. They love the team and have been ensuring we are well looked after. Nothing is ever too much bother. Such a great couple.
Contrary to popular belief, Charlie does not wear a skirt, or kilt as it’s called here. A kilt is saved for special occasions, not for grocery shopping in. Also, another little stereotype to banish is that they are not all whisky drinkers either. Charlie informs me he and his mates, or pals as they call them here, love a good lager.
My thoughts shift back to Eden. I’ve been feeling like a giddy schoolboy for the last few weeks, catching glimpses of her around the estate. I can’t help but thank fate we found her crashed in the field all those weeks ago. Then discovering she was the daughter of the retreat owners. It felt like it was exactly that—fate.
She was so vulnerable, but sassy that evening. Like a silent volcano. And, man, is she funny. And sexy. Her voluptuous yet slender body is hypnotizing. And her peachy ass. Holy shit, does she have a nice ass. I caught a delightful view of it at her house that day. I’ve had to adjust myself multiple times over the last few weeks just imagining my fingers digging into her pale backside. Christ, she does things to my cock.
But it’s not just that. She makes me feel things I’ve never felt before. She sets my heart racing, and she has me worrying about her, when I don’t even know her at all.
She’s an innocent angel with a dash of fire. She’s a little thing too, short, but she holds herself like a queen.
I overheard her parents outside the mansion house talking one day. Something about an accident that happened years ago. I didn’t hear everything, but her father mentioned how she needed to move on and how the family wanted her to find happiness again. Ella said the same too about her bucket list.
I’m eager to find out what happened.
I want to get to know that little pocket rocket and discover why she’s so guarded all the time.
If someone hurt her. Man, I can’t even think about it.
She has walls up; that’s for sure. I’d like to penetrate those. And her.
She froze in place when I abruptly left her home over a month ago. I had to leave before I jumped her bones, like she said. The way she was biting her lip and roaming my body with her eyes.
I chuckle to myself at the look of utter shock that swept across her face when I encased her with my body. I came so close to kissing her. It took everything within me to stand up and leave.
I’ve only visited her that one time because I’ve been respecting her need to grow stronger. But it’s been tearing at my inner sanity to visit her every day. I’ve really had to restrain myself.
And her name. I’ve played out several fantasies in my head of exactly what paradise would be like with Eden.
However, she needed to heal, and I’d only make her sore, in a good way.
I feel her pulling me in with her sparkling eyes that dance between the colors of ice blue and green. And those plump, luscious lips. I would like them wrapped around my cock, watching her moan. Fuck me.
And don’t get me started on that Scottish accent of hers, too. She’s like a siren. It’s sexy and melodic. It's like she’s singing to me. It’s gotta be the softest, gentle, sexiest voice I have ever heard and I want to hear her screaming my name.
“Aw, man, I need to get laid,” I groan to myself.
She felt the connection between us. I know she did too. I could sense it.
There were telling signs. I could read her body. She was rubbing her thighs together under that blanket, trying to ease her urges, and she couldn’t take her eyes off my body for a minute, unconsciously biting her teeth into her lips. I don’t even think she was aware of her own body language. She was nervous, but I could tell she wanted me.
I reckon she’s only about five foot two or so. Will sex be weird with such a big height difference between us, I wonder?
I’m Googling that. I get my phone out and type in ‘tall and short couple’s sex.’
The answer is… Nope; it makes no difference and suggests a fuck ton of hot as hell positions that work best for short women and tall men.
Seems like reverse cowgirl, spooning, and spread eagle are the winners. A rush of warmth spreads to my cock as the visual of Eden and me plays out in my fantasy. Yeah, that will do nicely.
Man, what it would be like to fling her about the bedroom.
I have got to stop this. I rub my hand down my face to wash away my dirty thoughts. I close my phone and slide it onto the table.
Just find something to watch on Netflix, Hunter, you sad dick.
Grabbing the remote, I flick through the menu. I don’t think I want to watch a series; I can’t commit myself during training. A film it is. Still scrolling through the menu, my thoughts drift back to Eden.
She’s taken up residence in my subconscious.
It hasn’t helped that she’s never too far away. Catching glimpses of her daily when out and about walking the grounds with her parents’ dog, Dave. Dave the dog. God, I love this family. On the occasions she’s spotted me from afar, she watches me. She thinks she’s being covert. She’s so wrong. I feel her eyes on me always.
There’s an old magnificent tree within the grounds. Several times I’ve watched Eden lay sunflowers at the base of the trunk. Curiosity got the better of me last week and I stood at that very tree. The flowers arranged neatly at the foot of the tree next to a little silver plaque engraved with the words, ‘Chloe Farmer. Rest Little One.’
Who is she honoring the memory of?
Eden has many layers. She is shy but has some spunk.
She's battling an inner demon.
I want her to share them with me.
I want to ease her inner pain.
I sensed her hesitation. With me. With her sister’s bucket list idea.
I didn’t want to scare her off early on and come on too strong. So I backed off and gave her space. For now.
I’m here. I’m just waiting.
I know she’s single and not dating. Ella told me that. Also, my key clue was Ella’s first item, “Tap that,” referring to me, her words, not mine.
Find happiness and love.
She's beautiful, so why is she not dating?
I can’t wrap my head around it.
Her sisters are both gorgeous too. Not a patch on what I see in Eden, but they are striking.
I’ve had the pleasure of meeting Eva too. Eva is married with two incredibly cute kids. Ella is a firecracker. On more than a few occasions when she’s been visiting her parents, we’ve chatted, mostly because I’ve been fishing for information on Eden’s progress and to find out how Eden was feeling. Ella has alluded to going on dates and partying. She’s a party bus kinda gal.
I actually think Luke has a bit of a crush on her. I spotted him chatting with her out in front of the training facility, and I am pretty sure there was an exchanging of numbers going on.
We’ll see how that pans out.
I've never met triplets before. Every man’s wet dream. Triplets. In reality, though, so very different.
Eden, Eva, and Ella are all unique. They sound the same, but their individual personalities and physical features are incredibly different. I’m glad of that; I'm not sure my cock could take three Edens.
Ella and Eva suit their names too. Just like Eden fitting her name. Ella means goddess—says it all really—Eva means mother of life. Spot on. Ella is more motherly and more grounded, so it suits her really well. I love doing this. Checking the meaning of people’s names. You’d be amazed at how fitting some people’s names are to someone’s personality.
So here I am on a Friday night by myself. I am so rock and roll.
“Okay, how do I light this woodburning stove then?”
I can’t see any instruction manual, and I don't have a clue what I am doing.
After trying for ten minutes to light the wood burner, I give up and decide to head over to the mansion. I’ve still not successfully picked what I’m watching tonight either.
Charlie can help me light the fire before I work on my couch groove for the night.
As I slip out my cabin door, I take in the rain that’s now pelting down at an insane rate.
I’m telling ya, man, it was sunny earlier on. Scotland, home of the most unpredictable weather.
Screw this, I need help.
Crouching my head down as I dash across the long gravel drive that widens out to the circular entryway, I run through the expansive double doors at high speed, shaking off the rain. That’s quite some shower.
I enter the warm ambient chandelier lit reception area to find it unattended and ring the bell on the marble desk.
As I’m waiting for assistance, an eruption of yelps and gasps flies through the main entrance, causing me to twist on my feet to see what all the commotion is.
“Holy crap. Dad, it’s hoofing down outside and I’ve locked myself out the house.”
Eden.