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“There,” I say, typing my information. At the last second, I click on the camera and snap a selfie, saving it as the contact photo. “Text me so I know it’s you.”

Levi stares at me and slowly takes his phone back, our fingers barely brushing in the process. His are cold from the refrigerated items, while mine are warm from the coffee cup. The stark contrast jostles me, bringing a shiver to my spine.

“Have a good day,” he says, looking me over fully now, from my visor to my socks.

I let my eyes roam too, taking in his brown wavy hair, green eyes, and the all-black outfit—long athletic pants and a tucked-in polo with the top two buttons popped. The light from the kitchen window catches on his silver watch.

Whoa. He looks hot.

Gus breaks the intensity of the moment by meowing and rubbing on my legs. “Bye, buddy. I’ll see you later,” I say, crouching down to pet him.

Levi watches us both with a curious glint in his eyes, and I slowly stand and make my way out.

The way he makes me feel is…dangerous. There’s the obvious attraction between us, amplified by the little moments when he flirts with me, not to mention the way his arms felt around me as he hugged me yesterday. Not once, but twice.

With a deep breath, I try to put all thoughts of Levi and his very strong, very warm body aside. Nothing good could come from that. Even if it would feel really, really good to lose myself in someone else’s touch, just for a little while.

When I get to work, the first thing I do is look for Rosie. The schedule shows me working the snack cart. All. Day. Long. I find her lining up the carts by the main office and sprint over to her. “Rosie, I need some advice.”

She stops and looks at me curiously. “Did you sleep with Levi?”

“What?” I sputter. “Of course not.”

“Oh. Bummer.”

“Shut up.”

When I’m quiet for too long, flustered at the thought of sex with Levi, she says, “What do you need advice on?”

“Well, I’m just worried that I might be attracted to him.”

“Good! You’re overdue for some hot sex.”

“How do you know it would be hot? And no, it’s not good. I live in his house and he’s technically employing me for the upcoming tournament.” The fact that I work for him should be the bucket of cold water that I need to forget all about my attraction to him, and yet, the thought sends a thrill down my spine. What is wrong with me?

“I’ve seen the way he looks at you. It would definitely be hot. So what if you live there?” She shrugs, wiping the windshield of a cart.

I groan and let my head fall back, looking up at the sky. “I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.”

Rosie huffs out a laugh through her nose. “Where does Ben have you today?”

“Snack cart. That asshole.”

Before I can ask Rosie if she’s on cleanup duty all day, I hear a commotion and turn to see the silhouette of a very angry man yelling at someone.

“How can you be so careless?”

“I’m gonna see what’s going on,” I say, waving goodbye to Rosie.

As I walk over to the clubhouse, I see one of our seasonal caddies, a kid that can’t be more than fifteen, struggling to pick up scattered balls from the ground. There’s an expensive-looking golf bag next to him. Tipped over.

I grimace and quicken my steps. The owner of said bag is red-faced, and I recognize him as one of my regulars at the bar. I look around but I don’t see Xander or Ben, so I decide to step in and help the poor kid, while also saving us from a bad review.

“Mr. Lachlan, how may I help?” I say and pick up the bag, wiping the dust off of it.

“I requested a caddie for the day and they assigned me this”—he points at the kid—"this child who can’t even carry my bag.”

I shift my weight under the bag. No wonder the kid couldn’t carry it, the thing weighs like a thousand pounds. What did this man put in it? Rocks?