Kiss My Putt (Summersweet Island 1)

“I’m suddenly not in the mood to golf anymore,” Palmer mutters, his smile dropping for a second.

“Stop!” I admonish, lightly smacking my hand against his chest. “You’re at the top of your game right now. Just keep your head down and focus, and don’t worry about rushing back here or anything. This is a big deal, and you’re going to do amazing and win, and then it’s going to lead to even more amazing things. Just… go to work and enjoy it.”

He stares at me for a few seconds, and he opens his mouth to say something then stops and smiles at me before leaning in and pressing his lips to mine. He holds them there until the ferry horn blows again and then quickly pulls away, the smile back on his face as he starts walking backward away from me.

“I’ll call you when I get settled into my hotel,” he tells me, and I just nod, the lump in my throat and all the tears I’m trying not to shed almost choking me when he finally turns around and continues walking toward the awaiting ferry.

He’s not going to ask me to go with him.

Jesus, Birdie, so open your mouth and beg him to stay! Stop being a goddamn wuss!

He’s twenty feet away and turning to step onto the small dock that leads up to the entrance of the ferry when I finally find my voice.

“Palmer!”

He immediately stops and turns around, taking a couple steps back toward me before the ferry makes another warning shot and he stops, quickly looks at the boat behind him, and then back at me with a little bit of panic in his eyes.

My heart is thundering in my chest, and my hands are shaking so badly I have to wring them together in front of me and holy shit, what am I doing? But the words are bubbling up inside me, and I can’t stop them from coming out now.

“Listen, I know you have a job to do, and I love watching you do that job,” I tell him with a raised voice so he can hear me, taking a second to swallow back my nerves before I continue. “I know I’m an idiot for not saying something sooner when you’re like, two seconds away from getting on a boat and then getting on a plane, and my timing sucks, but if I don’t say something now, I’m going to hate myself for the rest of my life and—”

Palmer took off like a shot halfway through my word vomit, racing back down the dock until he’s standing right in front of me again, clutching to the strap of his duffle bag and wrapping his free hand around the back of my neck to grip it tightly, making me forget what I was saying for a second when he’s so close to me and I can breathe him in again.

“And what?” he asks, his eyes darting back and forth between mine, urging me to continue.

Come on, Birdie. It’s now or never. Suck it the fuck up so you can get cookies.

“And you don’t have to go to this tournament if you really don’t want to play. You hate playing on television with all eyes on you anyway. Just… stay. Don’t go. It’s not like you really have to or anything. I mean, you can go to the next one if you really have to, right? I hate that I’ve turned into the type of woman who’s asking you to choose, but… stay. Please… stay here with me and don’t go.”

I’m choking on my words, but not a single tear falls as I stare up at him hopefully, my palms sweaty as I press them against his chest. Palmer’s fingers clutch tighter to the back of my neck, and he lets out a sound that’s part groan, part painful moan like someone just stabbed a knife into his chest, his face wincing with the same amount of pain, and not at all what I’d want to see on the man I just begged to stay here with me.

When he doesn’t immediately say anything, I tug my neck out of his grasp and take a step back.

“Birdie, please…” Palmer begs, much like he did when he first got back here and wanted me to give him time so he could explain.

I’ve given him fifteen years of my time and my heart, and he has no right to beg me for anything more.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear you ask me that, but I can’t right now. Fuck my fucking father!” he suddenly shouts, confusing the hell out of me as he takes a step toward me and I take one back, making him curse under his breath. “Baby, please. You have no idea how much I want to toss this bag down and do anything you ask of me, but I can’t.”