Page 18 of The Summer We Made Promises (The Destin Diaries #3)

“ N ow what?” Peter drove with one hand resting on the steering wheel, the other lazily tapping his thigh to the beat of a classic rock song that hummed from the speakers.

The glow of a lovely dinner lingered over both of them and the sun had just disappeared over the horizon, painting the sky in a mix of coral and the soft purple of twilight.

“It’s still light,” she said. “We should do something fun.”

Something fun. The words instantly reminded Vivien of the diary entry she’d read last night. Silly, childish, but now so crystal clear in her memory.

“What?” he asked, catching her smile.

“Does the name Goofy Golf mean anything to you?”

He choked a laugh. “It’s still here, you know.”

“No! Seriously?”

He glanced into the rearview mirror and pulled into the far left lane. “Wrong direction, right idea.”

“We can go? Now?”

He laughed. “You sound like little Vivien, all excited to go to the putt-putt place.”

“Do you remember when we used to go?” she asked. “Because I just read all about one of those unforgettable days in my decades-old diary.”

“Oh, that diary again.” He grinned at her. “Did I brush sand from your face or help you up after a fall?”

“Worse. I beat you by two strokes and you put your Braves cap on my head. I might not have washed my hair for a week.”

He belly laughed. “It is so time for a rematch. I do have a distinct memory of you wearing that hat for three days. I had to steal it back when you weren’t looking.”

“And you called me ‘champ.’” She reached over and put her hand on his shoulder. “ Champ .”

He took her hand and threaded their fingers, giving her knuckles the lightest kiss. “That’ll be the last time for that. I’m very competitive, you know.”

“Oh, I remember.”

“I took my boys there when they were little,” he said after making a U-turn and heading toward Fort Walton Beach. “We were in Destin for some reason and I remembered it was fun. I swear Humpty Dumpty still has that chip on his foot.”

“How are your sons doing?” she asked. “Any chance they’ll come over to see you while you’re here? I’d love to meet them.”

“They’re busy but I’d love for you to meet them,” he said. “Cam’s doing a special assignment at the police academy, so when that’s done, he could come over.”

She loved that his older son wanted to follow in his footsteps with a career in law enforcement. It said a lot about his parenting. “And Connor? I guess he can’t just slip away from dental school.”

“He’s up to his eyeballs in finals.”

“Which I imagine are no joke at UF.”

“Connor doesn’t joke—he studies. But when the semester ends, he’ll want to leave Gainesville, so maybe he’ll come, too.” He added a squeeze to their joined hands, resting on his thigh. “That is, if I’m still here this summer.”

True. He was here for work, and that could end. “I know you want to find a lead, but maybe you’ll still be tracking your missing man.”

“Case is cold,” he said. “The PD might call me back at any time for bigger problems.”

Her heart dropped. She didn’t want him to leave, but his home was in Pensacola, an hour away. They’d find a new normal. Wouldn’t they?

She just wasn’t sure what it was and from the look on his face? Neither was he.

They didn’t get a chance to discuss it because the massive red Goofy Golf sign grabbed their attention.

Mid-week, with most of the spring break crowds finally thinning, the parking lot at Goofy Golf was only half full. There were some families and a group of teenagers taking pictures with the enormous green dinosaur.

Still holding hands, they walked toward the entrance.

“Wow.” Vivien sighed out the word, a hundred different emotions bubbling inside.

“I know,” Peter said. “It hasn’t changed.”

She looked up at him, focusing on one of those emotions—the strongest one. “It’s so comfortable,” she whispered.

“Goofy Golf?”

“No. Us—our shared history. It’s so nice to know someone that long and have all those old memories.”

He narrowed his brown eyes and leaned in. “Not too comfortable, I hope.” He closed the space with the lightest kiss. “Don’t trap me in the Friend Zone, Viv.”

Her heart tumbled around, wondering if that’s what she was doing. She inched back and looked up at him, not exactly sure what to say. “Depends on if you let me win or not.”

“ Not ,” he said. “You are not stealing a favorite article of clothing for another three days.”

“Okay…then let’s see who the champ is now.”

Laughing, Peter ushered her to the entrance, paid for their round and handed her a purple ball. “I seem to recall you like this color.”

She took it from him, inexplicably pleased that he remembered that one little detail about teenage Vivien. “The color of champions.”

They set off down the first hole, weaving through a fiberglass jungle of oversized animals and strange fake buildings. Every statue was just as bizarre and delightful as she remembered—creepy clowns, off-kilter castles, and a kangaroo with a golf club glued to its paw.

Peter took his time lining up his first shot, shimmying his shoulders like he was on the opening hole of the Masters. “You ready for this level of skill?”

“Please. You peaked in 1990.”

He laughed and took his shot, brushing against her as he stepped aside to let her line up. “Let me know if I can put my arms around you and help you with that weak-sauce stance.”

“Hush your smack talk, Detective. Don’t mess with the champ.” She tapped the ball, which barely made it toward the green. “Okay, okay. I need to warm up.”

“Take all the time you need, Viv.” He gave her another light kiss on the top of her head just before taking his shot—and sinking it—but something was tugging at the back of her mind.

Not something—someone.

Danny.

Now, he wasn’t comfortable. Was that good—or bad? And why was she thinking about him?

She was on a date with Peter, a man she adored. But she kept thinking about Danny, with his roguish grin and easy wit and million-dollar lifestyle. He made her feel like she was twenty-five and giddy, not a fifty-year-old divorcee trying to rebuild a fairly shattered life with an old…friend? Crush?

Really, what was Peter in her life?

Peter gave her a playful nudge as she put her putter behind the ball. “You’re over-thinking, Champ.”

Was she ever.

She blew the putt just as the phone she’d slipped into her pocket hummed. “That doesn’t count. My phone’s ringing.”

“Champs don’t cheat.”

“Tessa did,” she said on a laugh, pulling out her phone. “It’s Eli. I better take this.”

“I’ll shoot for you,” he said, stepping to her ball.

“Thanks. Hey, Eli,” she said as she brought the phone to her ear. “You will never believe where we are right now! Goofy?—”

“I’m a grandfather,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.

“What?” she shrieked just as Peter sunk the ball. “The baby was born?”

“A boy. Seven pounds and…some ounces. I don’t know. Healthy and good. They’re naming him Atlas.”

“Atlas? That’s ambitious and beautiful, Eli! So awesome! I’m happy for you and Jonah. And Carly—maybe we’ll get to meet her and the baby soon.”

Peter came to stand next to her, and she tapped the speaker button so he could congratulate his friend.

“Way to go, Pops,” he said with a huge smile. “Now which one of us is officially old?”

Eli laughed. “It’s surreal, you know?”

“How’s Jonah?” Vivien asked, thinking of her passionate and extraordinary nephew. “I sure hope this doesn’t change his mind about the culinary arts program here in Destin, but I couldn’t blame him if it did.”

“I don’t know. He’s dazed. Long labor, but he was there and got to cut the cord. He’s over the moon and probably has no idea what hit him.”

Vivien laughed softly. “I can believe it. I’m so happy for you. And welcome to the family, little Atlas. Hope the weight of the world isn’t on his seven-pound shoulders.”

“Right? So, where are you guys?” Eli asked.

“Goofy Golf,” they answered in unison.

Eli hooted. “Oh, you kids. Have fun. I want to call Kate and share the news.”

“All right. I’ll be home in a bit,” Vivien said. “How’s Mom?”

“Great-grandma Maggie? On a stinking cloud. She and Jo have decided to tackle baking, so I hope you want baby celebration cake when you get home.”

Smiling from the call and the news and the rightness of the world at that moment, Vivien slid her arm around Peter’s waist as they walked to the next hole, talking about the new arrival.

The call brought an even brighter spirit to the competition, the two of them laughing non-stop until they finished the seventeenth hole, when they realized they were tied.

“Okay, this is serious business,” Peter said at the entrance to a narrow tunnel guarded by a ridiculous goblin statue. “I cannot let you whip me again.”

“You can and you will.” She angled her head. “You want to go first?”

“Sure.” Peter lined up his shot, tongue between his teeth, full concentration. She took the chance to just…look at him, and appreciate that Peter McCarthy was still as attractive to her as he’d been when he was seventeen and crowned her a champ.

He was in good shape at fifty-three, a tall, strong, protective man who cared deeply about people, and his purpose in life.

He still made her feel things. She just didn’t quite know what they were.

He took his putt and watched the ball roll close to the hole and…stop, making him grunt in frustration. “Okay, Viv. You’re up and you need a hole in one to win or a shot that great to tie.”

She inhaled as she walked to the tee. “What do I get if I win?”

“A kiss.”

“And if I lose?”

“You have to answer a very serious question.”

She looked up from the ball, surprised by the somber note. “Okay. What’s it about?”

He didn’t answer, so she pulled her putter back to take the shot.

“Us.”

She tapped the ball sideways, glaring at him. “You did that on purpose.”

“All’s fair…” He walked to his ball, knocked it in, then bent over to retrieve it from the cup. “In love and friendship.” He straightened and looked right at her. “I just don’t know which one this is…yet.”