Kiss My Putt (Summersweet Island 1)

Bodhi: Or better yet, a nice, slow kiss with tongue, and make sure to video it and send it ASAP. It’s so boooring here.

I look up when I finish reading the texts, my heart pounding in my chest, my feet starting to dance again with the need to kick a little Palmer ass as I show my mom and my sister the text when they come right up to the other side of Greg’s desk.

“Bodhi’s been sending me panicking texts since lunch about how much Putz has been sucking today,” Tess explains. “I told him to pull whatever strings he could to get you there, and I’d let him know when you were ready to hear it.”

Tess smiles at me, and I have just enough time to smile back before Wren is suddenly shouting.

“What are we standing around waiting for?! Birdie’s got a bag to pack and a list to make of all the ways she’s going to beat the shit out of Palmer for making her second-guess her worth!”

“I mean, he didn’t make me second-guess it. That was my own stupid—”

“Shut up and rage!” Wren shouts, throwing her fists in the air, making all of us stare at her with our mouths open. “That piece of shit didn’t have the decency to ask my amazing baby sister to go with him! Fuck him! Let’s burn his shit!”

Tess laughs uncomfortably, slowly sliding off my desk and then moving to stand behind my chair, where I’m still sitting.

“She got a phone call from you know who today,” my mom says, whispering that last part.

Tess and I both say “Aaahhh” at the same time, giving Wren a sympathetic nod now that we know the sperm donor must have messed with her again.

“I’ll be fine,” she reassures us, dropping her arms, clearing her throat, and going back to being my quiet, sweet sister. “Let’s get you home and packed so you can go get your man.”

Getting out of my chair, I walk around my desk to meet Wren as my mom leads the way out of the room and Tess follows behind us, flipping off the lights in Greg’s office as we go.

Wren wraps her arm around my waist and gives me a squeeze as we walk out into the bar.

“We can still make that list about all the ways I can hurt him just for fun though, right?” I ask her.CHAPTER 24Palmer

“Has anyone seen my balls?”“You okay there, Pal?”

Slamming my putter into my bag myself and ignoring Bodhi’s outstretched hand to take it from me, I grab my bottle of water out of the side of the bag and take a drink. Glancing around to see where the closest manned camera is and realize it’s only about 10 feet away, I lower my voice before answering, making sure none of the emotions raging through me show on my face.

“Well, considering I pulled my tee shot low and left and it went up into a hazard, and this is now the second hole I bogeyed this morning, I’m doing fucking fantastic.”

The water bottle crinkles in my hand I’m squeezing it so hard, and I shove it back into the side pocket of my bag as Bodhi pulls his phone out of his shorts for probably the hundredth time since we got on the course four hours ago.

“You maybe wanna put your phone away? It’s not like I’m currently playing in a nationally televised golf tournament or anything,” I mutter.

I’ve played The San Francisco Open several times, and it’s a beautiful course overlooking the Golden Gate Bridge with cypress-lined fairways. Those cypress trees are pissing me right the hell off at this moment in time, since my damn balls seem to be obsessed with them.

“So you’re actually going to call what you’ve been doing all morning playing? That’s cute.” Bodhi snorts as he slides his phone away and picks up my heavy golf bag.

Hefting the strap up over his shoulder, we start walking to the next hole, crowds of people walking back and forth between holes over in the trees and rough about fifty feet away behind the spectator rope. Not even a beautiful view of the Golden Gate Bridge through a break in the trees off in the distance can put me in any kind of peaceful mood, because everywhere I look, there are people watching, holding up their phones for pictures and video, and that doesn’t even cover all the TV cameras. There are camera crews sprinkled around every hole, making sure to keep their distance, but they’re still allowed to get closer than the spectators. There are also TV towers built thirty feet up in the air all over the course for a bird’s eye view of the golfers and their shots and a blimp flying overhead recording every moment of the day.