Kiss My Putt (Summersweet Island 1)

4 x 4 = 16 x 7 = 112…

Shifting in my seat and trying not to wince at how painfully hard my cock is right now at a fucking children’s arcade, I breathe through my nose and out through my mouth as I quickly scan the press release Birdie drafted up, grabbing my cold bottle of beer from the table and draining half of it to cool the hell down as I read. This statement sounds more professional, intelligent, clear, and concise than any other press releases my publicists have sent out for me in the past, and I’m not at all surprised.

“It’s perfect,” I tell her, sliding the paper back, pretending like I still remember how to swallow the next sip of beer I’m in the process of drinking when her hand brushes mine as she takes the paper back.

“Okay, so I’ll make sure that goes out tonight to the AP wire before I go to bed,” Birdie says, putting the press release in her planner then slowly closing it before looking up at me.

The sun has added a few freckles across the bridge of her nose, and I wonder what she would do if I leaned down and kissed each one of them. Probably reach under the table and punch my still swollen and aching balls.

“Did you see the email from your dad?” she asks, her voice going as low as it can over the noise of the arcade all around us.

“Oh, the one he forwarded from one of my endorsements that just said ‘Fix it’?” I ask with a sardonic laugh. “Nice to see dear old dad still cares.”

It’s not like I expected the first communication from the guy after I embarrassed him on national television to be a two-hundred-page novel, but maybe asking if I’m okay or even where I am would have been nice. Although, I’m sure he knows. He didn’t know much about me or what I wanted, but he knew Summersweet was the only place I ever wanted to be.

“I’m sorry,” she says softly, looking up at me on the bench. “Are you okay? It’s fine if you’re not ready to talk about it. I’m sure your head’s been spinning and you’re freaked out about your future, but I promise I’m going to do everything I can to get your image in tip-top shape and have everyone begging to have you back on the circuit.”

The lights and whistles and clinking and sirens disappear as I look down at her, wishing I could just blurt out everything and let her know she has no reason to be sorry, because nothing else matters in my life but her and what she thinks of me and that I’m so goddamn in love with her I can’t think straight. But I don’t say anything. I just look into her blue eyes staring back at me with care and concern, and I think about how she hesitated to sit down next to me when in the past she used to slide onto this bench so fast she would slam right into me and almost push me off the other side. And I remind myself she just needs more time before I do my own pushing.

“Nothing to be sorry about, sweet cheeks,” I tell her, bumping my shoulder against hers, watching her eyes narrow in annoyance with the new nickname.

If she only knew I gave her that nickname after spending all night on the beach playing cornhole with her, getting glimpses of the sweet curves of her bare ass cheeks, fighting the urge to sink my teeth into them….

“Honestly… I don’t have any idea what I want for my future, so it’s hard to freak out about something I can’t even picture right now,” I tell her, referring to golf and not about the fact that whatever future is in store for me, I’m going to make damn sure she’s a part of it this time.

“Well, you have plenty of time to make up your mind.”

Unlike you, I don’t need time. My mind was made up the day I met you, sweet cheeks.

“If you promise to be a good girl, maybe Daddy will try to win you that lava lamp,” I tell her with a wag of my eyebrows.

Birdie suddenly starts coughing, swatting my hand away when I try to pat her on the back.

“Just… swallowed wrong,” she finally manages to wheeze out, scooting a little farther away from me on the bench before swinging one of her legs over it and getting up.

I watch her grab her planner and tuck it under her arm, motioning me toward the games as she starts quickly walking away.

With a sigh, I push up from the table, wondering how long it’s going to take for her to trust me again. Watching her hips sway from side to side and feeling the chubby I get again from staring at her ass as I follow behind her, I hope to God it happens soon before my dick explodes.