Pulling into a parking spot, I gather my laptop bag from the passenger seat and climb out of my car.
“Let me get that for you, baby.” A man I donotknow from here to carajoland just called me “baby.” I lean away from him, pulling my tote bag tight into my person.
Confusion is written all over his face, in crayon. Hell, I’m confused too, but only one of us is a clown.
“Listen, don’t call me baby. You don’t even know me.” Of all the men, he isn’t the one I want calling me baby. No, the only man I’ll allow to call me baby is the one I ran away from. I choke on my own internal thoughts. Scratch that, I don’t wantanyonecalling me baby. Not even the salt-and-pepper fling who has been haunting my dreams throughout the years.
One word.
One look.
One smirk.
It’s all he needed to do to dismantle the walls I’ve built up. The reminder of last night’s dream, of his fingers coasting over my ass, sends shivers down my back. How does he get under my skin so quickly? I turn my attention back to the oblivious bro still standing closer than he should be, sizing him up and down.
I grab my enormous tumbler filled to the brim with water andlimon—a habit I picked up from my lime-obsessed best friend. I don't wait for golf bro to say anything else before I shut my car door and walk away from him. There’s a grumbling sound coming from his direction, and I don’t have the time or energy to give to groserorudemen who don’t give me even an iota of respect.
Hard pass, big boy.
Pushing open the door to the club, I see it’s still calm; traffic will pick up once the larger groups start to show. I shuffle into the clubhouse to grab myself a breakfast wrap and a coffee. It won't be my favorite café con leche but it will give me the pep I need to get through this day. I walk up to Tori’s desk, needing to confirm if Glen’s in his office already.
“Hey there, Lo! You can go right back. Glen is expecting you.” She smiles sweetly at me as I make my way around her desk and down the hall. Muffled laughs echo through the hall on my way to Glen’s office. The closer I get to his door, the more the laughing picks up. I give the door a knock and hear what I assume are Glen’s footsteps moving closer.
“Paloma,” Glen greets as he ushers me into his office toward the unoccupied chair in front of his desk. “Thank you for making time to come in early. We were just chatting about the help I need.” Did he just say “we”? Who iswe?“I’d like to ask the two of you if you will help me get this tournament off on the right foot.”
Two of who exactly?Not wanting my internal thoughts to be the first thing I say , I go with, “Of course. I’m glad to help. Is this what the meeting is about?” As I do, I attempt to peer around his body to the other person and see short salt-and-pepper curls. A shudder climbs up my back at being this close to Clinton. I consider turning and making a run for it like I did at Shaken Tropes, but I can’t, not again. How big of an ass would that make me, running out on him a third time? Even withthe need to bolt, my body leans in his direction.
When I peel my eyes from the back of Clint’s head, Glen has already taken a seat on the other side of his desk. “I’ll lay it out for you. I trust y’all, which is exactly why I asked you both here. As you both know, a successful tournament needs a committee. The person who normally takes on marketing and event planning had a family emergency.” He gazes at the both of us with puppy dog eyes, however, my eyes are glued on the chiseled jaw of Clinton Morrison. Maybe he’s just as shocked to see me, as I am to see him.
“Oh, I hope you remember one another. Unless you need introductions—”
Clinton stops Glen easily with a subtle shake of his head. “I could never forget Paloma Reyes.”He could never forget me?I don’t know if it’s a good or bad thing, but the way his eyes linger on my hair before they drink in the rest of my features, ones that are fuller now, hints to the former. I let Clinton take his time as his eyes travel over my thick thighs squeezing into the arm chair that’s digging into my ample hips. His fingers twitch, and I do everything I can to hold back how badly I want to touch him. He continues his perusal in what I assume is him noticing my soft belly filling out my skirt. When he suddenly meets my gaze, there’s a soft pink shade to his cheeks.Is he blushing over me?I swallow and bite the inside of my cheek. No matter how many years, no matter how badly I hurt him, heisn’t a man I want to rush. My skin flushes and the desire to be touched by him races over me, right down to my fingertips. I’ve always felt a pull toward Clint, but somehow the time we’ve been apart has only tightened the string that pulls us together. Not tight like it will snap, but like it’s tangling us together.
Glen coughs lightly, pulling us both out of our trance. I try to recovermy composure and speak up first, “Um, yeah. Clinton taught me a lot about the game when we worked here. Almost a decade ago now.”
“Well, that is wonderful. So listen, I would be indebted to some of my favorite people.” Glen is laying it on thick today. “The two of you,” he says for emphasis, and I have to wonder how many other favorite people Glen has. “Given the Albatross Charity Tournament is for your academy, Clint, and with your connections between players and businesses, you would be a fantastic fit to head marketing for the tournament.”
“Absolutely. I can handle that. I was already planning to share my connections with you, so this will speed things up if I handle communications directly,” Clint says as he makes an attempt to peek back over at me.
“And how do I fit into all of this?” I ask, genuinely curious as to why he needs my help.
“Well, I could think of no one better who already knows Mossy Oaks Golf Club, as well as the Cypress Lake community, to ensure the day-of coordination is handled with strategy and care. Since leaving the Mossy Oaks family, you have flourished with your own business.” My eyebrows raise in surprise, realizing that Glen has kept up on me. He nods his head as he continues, “Yes, I have been keeping a keen eye on Shaken Tropes. It’s flourished and much of that has to do with how you treat people and conduct outreach online. Together, you both have what we need to make this tournament successful.”
When my gaze locks on Clinton, I notice his head is leaning slightly back from how ramrod-straight his back is. The moment Glen takes a breath, I rush and ask my own question, “What would this look like exactly?’
“As the new event coordinator and lead for marketing, you bothwould take on the roles of executing the tournament, getting the word out, and building the sponsorships we’ll need.”
Clinton nods in my direction, and I give him an in to ask his question, “Is there a reason why you’re not taking on the role as the event coordinator? Youarethe general manager. Who better than you?” I force my eyes to remain focused on Glen. There’s a small voice in my head telling me I’m the reason Clint is hesitating to commit. Why would he want to be stuck with me after what I have done?
“My role as the treasurer is to focus on the budget and ensure this course is where it needs to be for the tournament. Now, I understand you have other responsibilities which is why I thought asking both of you to support would help divide the workload and, hopefully, make this tournament’s logistical undertaking more manageable. If you both are unable to do it with such short notice—”
Clinton chuckles into his next words. “I just want to be sure the other committee members are ready to go. Albatross Charity Tournament has to be done right. Besides, you know I’m in, Glen. I told you earlier I’m all for helping.” Clinton’s voice is deep, and I wonder if it’s me or if it’s hot in here. My eyes cut to the thermostat behind Glen’s head.
“How are you feeling about this?” Glen turns his attention to me, and though I’m facing him, I can feel Clint’s eyes on me. I tuck my hair behind my ear, trying not to get too flustered being this close to my ex. Fucking hell. I could tell Glen no, but then what? What does that solve? Without allowing myself much more thought, not wanting to be an ass, even though this was sprung onme, I answer, “Count me in, Glen.” I turn, now giving my attention to Clinton as I continue, “It can’t be too hard. We can exchange emails and make sure to get this done.”
“Oh, no no no. Marketing and events go hand in hand.” Glen smiles,smiles,like this is good news. “It’s why in the past we’ve had one coordinator handling it all. And I know what you’re thinking, but an event of this size, with someone as popular as Clinton involved, we need all hands on deck. You both will need to work closely.”
The room is silent aside from the old coffee pot in the corner, which seems to be on an auto-timer. “Coffee?” Glen says, uncertainty in his voice as he rolls his chair to the small table in the corner and pours himself a cup. He offers again with a head nod, one we both decline.
