Kaylee made a quick trip home to her folks’ house and shared the news about her broken engagement. And swung by her family doctor to get tested for STDs, because eww. She didn’t know if Eddy had practiced safe sex. Somehow, Kaylee doubted it. At least her doctor told her she was in the clear. She supposed that was some consolation.

Her parents didn’t seem surprised about the split. In fact, her father appeared downright pleased.

How could she have been so blind? Who knew how many women Eddy had slept with while they were together? Now that she saw the real Eddy, she couldn’t un-see what a disgusting human being he was. Apparently, when you were running from ghosts, you made terrible decisions. Like spending your life with a guy because he couldn’t have children either.

To make matters worse, Eddy phoned in some misguided attempt at getting back together and accused her of being the problem.

Oh, hell no. She wasn’t walking around in a daze anymore. That call had lasted all of two seconds, before she told him to never reach out to her again.

Kaylee made it to her next golf lesson, and no, she wasn’t happy. She felt like crap, but Wes was right. She couldn’t mope around and not take care of herself.

Wes didn’t ask any questions about the breakup, just nodded his approval at her being there, and proceeded to make her sweat it out at the driving range for a couple of hours. Which, in some weird way, made her feel better, because it took her mind off the rest of her life.

Wes, like Kaylee and Bella, was in training mode. He practiced alongside them and was hyper-focused, just as he’d been in college. Kaylee wondered why he was practicing so hard. It reminded her of their painful past together.

If Kaylee really wanted to depress herself, she thought about how she’d come full circle—hanging out with Wes, attracted to him, as always, but never his priority. She was not interested in dating Wes or anyone right now. Was it even possible to rebound with the ex you rebounded from? That was a hell of a mindbender. No, when she was ready, she would move forward, not backward. And good God, dating Wes would be taking five steps back.

Kaylee had other things on her mind, anyway, like where to live. Eddy had somehow stolen the apartment she’d rented in San Francisco, and she couldn’t care less. A year ago, he had insisted on buying all new furniture, so the only things she’d left behind were a few clothes and some knickknacks her father had graciously offered to pick up so that she wouldn’t have to deal with Eddy. Moving back to the city would feel like stepping back, and if she was making a fresh start, she wanted it to be somewhere she could see herself living long term.

After practice, Kaylee went into emergency get-your-life-back-on-track mode. Tapping her pen at the makeshift desk she’d set up at the kitchen table, she sifted through Craigslist, Monster.com, and other job search engines, and filled out job applications. The jobs she found didn’t pay much, but she wanted something she might enjoy. For now, she only needed enough money to survive on. Her parents’ place was paid for, and they said she could stay as long as she liked.

Despite the massive turn her life had taken, she felt surprisingly Zen with everything. As though a weight had been lifted. And maybe it had. Somehow, things would be okay. As long as she didn’t forget the boundaries that needed to remain between her and Wes.

---

Wes scanned the applicants in his inbox for the new assistant golf pro position. Very few people had experience with children. He could hire someone without it. Their new direct marketing was working better than expected, and they needed instructors for adults too. But Bella had changed Wes’s opinion on the whole “training kids” thing.

When Emily had first approached him about giving a spunky five-year-old golf lessons, he’d nearly run from the room. Then she’d explained Bella’s situation. And how often Bella’s parents came to the club.

The little girl was ignored and bored. Wes could relate. He’d been that bored kid, hanging out at the club while he mourned the loss of his mother. Instead of spending time with his five young sons, Wes’s father had buried himself in work. Wes had always hated that his father had chosen the club over him.

He had agreed to one lesson with Bella. Until he saw her skills and determination.

Bella’s swing had been all over the place, like most new players. But she had an amazing ability to watch Wes and repeat the form he showed her. He’d seen real potential there. And that had excited him. The more he worked with Bella, the more he believed she could become a great golfer one day.

At first, it irritated Wes that Bella’s parents were such selfish assholes that they couldn’t be bothered to spend time with their daughter. But he changed his mind when he decided to train Bella as his protégée. Let her parents do their thing; he’d make sure Bella kicked ass at golf.

It didn’t take long before Wes was rethinking the children’s program Emily had been begging him to extend to the golf program. If even half of the kids who took lessons at the course had Bella’s energy for the game, it would be worth it. In fact, he liked the idea of training the next generation. Made him feel like he was doing something important.

Wes scanned the list of applicants again. He wrote down the phone numbers of those experienced with children. Anyone he hired would go through a full screening, but a background working with kids suddenly seemed essential.

He shut down his computer and stood, ready to put in another three hours on the practice green. He’d given an extra lesson to Kaylee earlier in the day after she’d called to see if he had time. He usually worked on his short game then, but he couldn’t say no. She was going through a lot, and no matter how screwed up their past was, he wouldn’t leave her hanging.

She’d shown up in fitted red golf shorts and a white polo, and it was good to see color in her face. Some of her energy was back, and he’d not gone easy on her.

Wes smiled, remembering Kaylee’s disgruntled look when he told her to grab another bucket of balls ten minutes before her lesson was supposed to wrap up. He’d made her stay until she emptied it. By the end, her cotton polo shirt stuck to her petite frame, and she was out of breath. Which Wes took to mean that he’d done a good job. No one should leave his lessons without a few muscles burning.

On that note, he’d better get his ass on the practice green before it got too dark to see the balls. He grabbed his clubs and shoved his phone in his navy-blue golf pants, right as the thing vibrated.

Wes dug his hand in his pocket and fished out the phone. “Hello,” he said, locking up his office and scanning the pro shop to make sure his staff had shut it down properly.

“Wes, it’s Tom.”

“Hey, man. How are things in SF?” Tom Henderson was a buddy of Wes’s who’d made it onto the pro tour straight out of college. Pretty much Wes’s one and only dream in life. Until Kaylee had kicked him to the curb and made a head case out of him. And now she was back in his life. Which had to be some sort of sick twist of fate. It didn’t help that he still found her attractive, even when she was sweaty after a grueling golf lesson. Especially when she was sweaty.

Wes hadn’t been with a woman since Kaylee arrived. He’d blamed it on his rigorous training schedule, but he worried it was more than that.

“Wes, I gotta catch a flight, but there’s something that came up,” Tom said, cutting into Wes’s daydream of removing Kaylee’s sweaty shirt for her. “One of the courses on the tour had an accident. Major fire at the clubhouse. No one got hurt, but the place won’t be repaired in time for the tournament. The tour needs a replacement.”

Wes froze in the act of turning off the lights in the pro shop, and then his heart hammered in his chest.

It was extremely rare for a disaster to bump a course from the tour. “Please tell me Club Tahoe is being considered. And if you’re messing with me, I will hunt you down.”

Tom laughed. “Yeah, buddy. I happened to be in the right place at the right time and boasted about your course. Didn’t hurt that one of the panel members has played there.”

“Are you shitting me?” Wes paced the room, running a hand roughly through his hair.

He dumped his clubs near the front counter. This was the opportunity of a lifetime for the resort, which had taken a hit financially since he and his brothers began running it.

None of his brothers had wanted anything to do with the resort once they were adults. Had, in fact, run from it. His brother Adam was the exception. Adam had worked for their father and ended up an executive at Blue Casino. Wes was somewhat of an exception too, but only because he liked the golf course. His other three brothers had worked blue-collar jobs prior to their father’s death. They hadn’t known jack about running a luxury resort, and had been stumbling to catch up ever since.

“I’m not shitting you, but you need to act fast. I pitched Club Tahoe and they were receptive, but you’ve got to jump on it.” Tom rattled off the name and number of the person in charge.

Wes lunged across the front counter for a pen and scribbled down the information.

“Tell them I referred you and that your course will be ready in time for the tournament.”

“Yeah, anything. Which tournament is it?”

“Second of the season.”

Wes did a quick mental calculation. “That’s in seven weeks.”

“Yep. You still want it?”

Wes would be a fool to pass up the opportunity. “Hell yes.”

“Then make that call. I’ll be in touch when I return to San Francisco. Oh, and Wes?”

“Yeah—I’m here.” Which he was, even if his mind was running a mile a minute.

“Don’t forget, if the tourney takes place at Club Tahoe, the club pro gets one of the sponsor’s exemptions.”

During Wes’s mental rundown of all the things he’d need to do to get the course ready for a tournament, and that was assuming the tour chose Club Tahoe as the replacement course, he’d skipped over one very important bonus.

As the club’s head pro, he could play in the tournament. Without the need to qualify.

Holy fucking shit.

Wes somehow managed to end the call without passing out. He placed his hands on the counter and took a deep breath.

This could change everything. The direction of the club. The direction of his golf career.