Kiss My Putt (Summersweet Island 1)

I tossed and turned all night last night and probably got a total of two hours of sleep. Not only did I have to process the fact that I really had been more devastated about not going to Hawaii than I was about the end of my two-year relationship with Bradley, I had to worry about the possibility of running into Palmer every time I left my cottage. It felt like I finally fell asleep seconds before my alarm went off, and I hit the Snooze button one too many times until I only had five minutes to get dressed and get out the door for work. With my blonde hair in one of Wren’s signature messy buns, I threw on a purple fitted SIG T-shirt that may or may not be clean with a pair of black cotton shorts.

“I’ve had ten people stop me since I got into work this morning asking me if I’ve heard that he’s back,” I tell Tess with a sigh. “And they ask me with a wince and pity on their faces, so that’s been fun.”

Everyone on the island obviously knew about Palmer’s and my friendship, considering whenever he was here, we were together almost every waking minute. And since Palmer Campbell was one of the two biggest things to happen to Summersweet Island, everyone followed him on social media, and everyone knew the day he blocked me and we stopped being friends. May 24, 2018. The day Summersweet Island residents quickly learned to never, ever ask me about that man again.

The five-minute golf cart ride from my cottage to SIG this morning was five full minutes in which I almost convinced myself seeing Palmer again had been a dream. Or a nightmare. The constant butterflies in my stomach that hadn’t calmed down since I turned around and saw his face had finally quieted, and my head had been filled with work instead of him. Until the minute I pulled into my parking spot and one of the grounds crew asked me about Palmer before I even stepped out of my damn cart.

“Stefanie at Sandbar Cottages said he rented a place last night with no check-out date,” Tess says.

The granola bar I swiped from the pro shop for breakfast starts churning in my stomach, even though I already heard this rumor. Summersweet Island law states when a rumor has been told twice, it’s now fact.

“Gina at Starboard Sweets dropped off our candy order for the pro shop this morning and said the only tournament he wasn’t uninvited from this year isn’t for another seven months,” I tell her, keeping my fingers crossed.

“I heard that too.”

Shit!

“If he’s planning on staying here that whole time, which it sounds like he is, that’s the longest stretch of time he will have ever been here. Or anywhere, for that matter,” Tess says with wide, shocked eyes, feeling the need to say something out loud that’s been screaming in my head since Gina first said it.

“I also heard he’s even hotter now than ever and seeing him on television doesn’t do him justice, and you’re lucky we’re at work or I’d punch you right in the throat for not mentioning that little fact at Sip and Bitch last night.” Tess glares at me before turning away to finish stocking the bar.

“Oh, calm down; I only spent a minute with the guy, and I barely even noticed what he looked like.” I scoff, grabbing a pen and pretending to scribble something on one of my pieces of paper so Tess doesn’t see the lie written all over my face.

I definitely noticed he was no longer lean and lanky with boyish good looks.

I definitely noticed a sharper jaw with deeper dimples in his cheeks.

I definitely noticed how the soft cotton of his shirt molded to a new well-defined chest and broader shoulders.

I definitely noticed how the seams in the arms of his shirt were working overtime trying to keep the extra definition of his biceps and triceps contained without ripping the cotton.

I definitely noticed the way the veins and muscles in his forearms twisted and tensed when he clenched his hands into fists at his sides after he said my name, like he was bracing himself for my launch-hug out of habit.

I definitely noticed how his tanned skin made his green eyes an even more vibrant color of jade.

I definitely noticed he still kept his chocolate-brown hair neatly shaved tight on the sides and briefly wondered if he turned his hat around on purpose because I once made the mistake of letting it slip that I thought it made him look hot.

I definitely noticed his ass could fill out a fitted pair of golf shorts even better than what I saw on TV when of course I glanced back for a peek after I shoulder-checked him.