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“Damn, that lizard must be lucky,” Bryce says, shaking his head.

By the fourth hole, my phone dings. I head to the golf cart so I can see the document without the sun’s glare reflecting on my screen. I skim the document, knowing Ewan’s propensity for perfection. He’s highlighted in yellow the items he wants me to read carefully so I can request changes if necessary. It’s straightforward; I get two games off during the season to use for personal days. Ewan had that added. There are incentives for reaching the playoffs. The bonuses increase as you make it to the next round. I sign the contract, drop it in the Dropbox, then text Ewan, “Done.”

After nine holes, we wait at the “Windy Watering Hole” for the rest of the crew, happy to see Logan and Hagan are here. Both are guzzling a protein drink. Hagan is Harper’s twin brother, which is how Logan and Harper met.

“Good to see ya, man. It’s been a couple of years,” I say to Hagan.

We embrace, squeezing. “Living my best life. Just moved into Kodiak Kove, next door to my older brother and some old timers who played for the Kodiaks.”

Logan laughs. “They’re like five to ten years older than you. Tackett is the same age as us.”

Hagan and Harper’s family owns the Sarasota Sharks and the Chicago Kodiaks professional baseball teams.

“I’m surprised you moved away from Harper,” I say.

Hagan seems to mull it over like he’s sad. “We still have a house next door to them in Lexington but now that construction will be starting on the new Kodiak stadium, Adalee and I need to be onsite for a year. But we’ll be back and forth. Our kids are best friends.”

“How many do you have?”

“Two, one boy, one girl. Both already playing baseball, of course.”

It reminds me that I’m lightyears behind my friends in the personal area.

“Great, show me pictures later. We’ll see ya after the round.”

Logan and Hagan wait for Flynn and Dawes to play the back nine.

The fifteenth tee is a par four, meaning you should be able to put the ball in the hole in three strokes. When I make it in two, it’s the first eagle of the day for our group. The guys holler like we just won the Stanley Cup.

While the others finish up, I take my phone out and see a message waiting for me.

Becca: You kept me safe?

Me: Sunshine, we need to find that lizard. He’s my lucky charm.

Becca: That’s not what you thought last night.

Me: I think we need to sleep together again.

Becca: Not a good idea.

Me: What if he returns to the scene of the crime?

Becca: I’ll tuck him in right beside you.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Becca

Sipping mimosas seems like a perfect way to begin the day. I can only think of one thing better. The way John hovered over me last night, daring me to make the first move, to give him permission to kiss me, sent chills popping up on my skin. His lips trended upward in a way that said he was up to no good. Yet when we were pressed together in a twin bed, side by side, he was a gentleman and kept his hands in appropriate places.

Part of me hoped his hand would slide between my thighs and kiss under my ear, but for all his bravado, he never crossed the line.

“Why are you all smiles? It wouldn’t have anything to do with John “The Godfather” Basilio, would it?” Oakley asks, teasing.

“Hmm?”

“You heard me.”