Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 111959 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 560(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111959 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 560(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
You have no idea what it’s like to miss you, baby.
This human being had kicked down her door, both literally and metaphorically.
She’d never seen him coming. Not like this. Perhaps because she’d known him first as a celebrity, not a real person, the way she did now. How could she have known he would balance her like he’d been born for the job? Respect, challenge, arouse, and protect her, all at once. Make her feel passionate enough to fight and laugh in the same breath.
What was she going to do about him?
The screen of Josephine’s phone lit up on the nightstand. Probably an alert from her glucose monitor, but she reached out anyway, careful not to move from her position against a sleeping Wells. Her breath caught when she looked at the screen, however, because it was not her monitor going off, it was an alert from her checking account.
The sponsorship money from Under Armour had landed.
The high five-figure amount was substantial, but not quite enough to cover the dream renovation. She’d reluctantly spoken with her parents about fronting the rest of the cost until their disaster relief funds came in—or Wells won big, and she received her cut. Whichever came first. Which meant that she could give the contractor the green light to make all of the improvements to the Golden Tee, effective immediately. He’d given her a two-week timeline and then the shop would be ready to stock with inventory. Shortly after that, it would be up and running again. But where would that leave her and Wells? Would she just . . . pass off her responsibilities to another caddie and go back to watching him on television?
They’d entered into this arrangement knowing it was temporary, but that was before . . . well, before. The former number one golfer in the world was asleep in her bed and he’d made it very clear he didn’t want to take any more breaks. If Josephine was being honest with herself, she didn’t relish the idea of spending long periods away from Wells, either. But her lifeblood, her family legacy, her heart, was here in Palm Beach and she couldn’t ignore the Golden Tee forever. Furthermore, she didn’t want to.
Worrying her bottom lip with her teeth, Josephine made the painful decision to disentangle herself from Wells and slide out of bed, releasing a breath when he grumbled in his throat. But he just rolled over in a bare-chested sprawl and went back to snoring quietly, his morning wood very prominently tenting the sheet.
The fluttering sensation in her rib cage was so intense, she had to turn away from the big, gorgeous sight of him and his sleep-mussed hair or she would never do what needed to be done. After putting on her robe and closing the bedroom door without a sound, Josephine made a cup of coffee, fortified herself with a few sips, and called the contractor.
Ignoring the dread in her belly, she gave him the thumbs-up to begin the work, effectively starting the countdown clock on her time caddying for Wells.
What other choice did she have? They had to pay rent to the club. A course needed a shop. Sure, they understood that the Golden Tee needed to rebuild after the hurricane, but they would eventually begin expecting monthly payments. Life moved on and it moved fast.
The coffee cup was halfway to Josephine’s lips when a very familiar sound greeted her ears—the back and forth of her parents’ bickering. And that sound was moving down the hallway toward her apartment door.
Dread pulsed in her stomach for an entirely different reason now.
She’d forgotten about brunch. They were there to pick her up for an early birthday celebration, because she was going to be in California on Wednesday, when she officially turned twenty-seven. They were not going to find their daughter ready for fancy eggs and mimosas; however, they were going to find her looking like she’d tossed a man’s salad in the shower, before getting manhandled in a way that had probably taken the bounce out of several mattress springs. Which was all gloriously true.
She’d had stupefyingly good sex with a man who was still in her bed. Fully naked. And her apartment wasn’t large by any stretch of the imagination, so the muffled snores of her boss/lover could be heard clear to the kitchen if one listened hard enough. Not ideal. This was incredibly not ideal.
I got this.
I can handle this.
If I can handle Wells’s temper on the golf course, two retirees should be a piece of cake.
Wishful thinking, but okay.
They were knocking now. This was happening.
Josephine tightened the belt of her robe and gathered her hair into a knot, securing it with a stray hairband from her junk drawer. She took a deep breath, wished herself luck, and opened the door—