Kiss My Putt (Summersweet Island 1)

“Don’t stop worrying about that ball kicking just yet. You seemed to have forgotten you just did some serious neck nuzzling in front of my mother.”

Palmer just smiles down at me as he pushes me to walk backward, and I turn back around in his arm that I guess he’s just going to keep tightly around me, so we can both walk up to the window where my mother stands on the other side.

Literally bouncing up and down, clapping her hands, and smiling so big at the two of us, she looks a little psychotic and kind of like The Joker.

“You look swamped tonight, Laura. Need some help back there?” Palmer asks, resting his chin on top of my head, almost giving my mother a case of the vapors and making her swoon as her employees rush around behind her in the small building, making treats for customers.

“Oh my God, no! You guys deserve a night to relax.” My mom laughs, waving her hand at him before clutching both hands together against her chest. “Uuuggghhh, my heart. Will you just look at the two of you? It’s about time you both pulled your heads out of your asses. So, you two want your usuals, and when are you going to start giving me beautiful grandbabies to spoil?”

Palmer’s chest rumbles against my back as he laughs, and I just shake my head at her.

Thankfully, my mom disappears from the window to go make Palmer’s hot fudge sundae with extra whipped cream, no nuts, and two cherries, and my Reese’s Cup flurry with extra Reese’s Cups and three healthy squirts of liquid peanut butter. Palmer finally lets go of his hold on me so we can both take our orders when my mom sets them on the counter with a bunch of napkins. Then she blows each of us a kiss, the grandbaby talk forgotten when she looks over my shoulder to the next person in the long line that formed after us.

Palmer and I step around the side of the building and over to the only open picnic table, which is the bright yellow one. I only glare a little bit at the group of teenage girls sitting in the purple table in the back corner with our names carved into the top as I swing my leg over the bench and straddle it to face Palmer, pulling the short skirt of my dress between my thighs and covering the goods like a lady does in public. Palmer’s eyes flicker down to my bare legs straddling the bench, a dirty smile tipping up the corner of his mouth as he licks hot fudge off his spoon, making me shift a little in my seat when I see his tongue swirl around the white plastic.

“Want to talk about that email now?” I ask, even though I really, really don’t want to talk about that email he sent me a text about earlier, but we should probably talk about something before I start humping this picnic table bench.

“Oh, that’s right!” Palmer nods around a mouthful of ice cream and fudge.

With my flurry in one hand and a spoonful of it in the other, I lean forward on the bench and kiss his bottom lip, sucking off a little bit of chocolate that was there before pulling back to stick my spoon in my mouth.

Palmer just looks at me with his spoon halfway up to his mouth, dripping ice cream down into his plastic bowl as he stares at me with a look of awe on his face.

“I can’t believe Birdie Bennett just kissed me at the Dip and Twist,” he whispers like a teenage boy gossiping to his friends.

It makes me laugh, and it makes my heart do that weird constricting thing in my chest again, my laughter slowly dying away when I think about that email.

“Anyway, the exciting email,” he continues, scooping another spoonful of his sundae into his mouth first. “You, my sexy and amazing sweet cheeks, are brilliant, and that ridiculous cat photo along with the press release you put out got some positive buzz going. The San Francisco Open wants me there in a little over a week, as long as you keep working your magic. Did you see where they said they’ve gotten a bunch of fan mail demanding my presence?”

His smile is infectious, and I can’t help but return it, even though it feels like I’m dying a little inside as he continues, practically bouncing up and down in his seat.

“They want to see more positive social media posts, and they want to speak to a few of my endorsements to see how they’re feeling, but if we brainstorm some more ideas the next few days, this just might work, and I might get to play some fucking pro golf sooner than we expected.”