Sundays are quite possibly my favorite day of the week. They end up being just as busy as any other day, mind you, but they are still the one day I get to do for myself. I leisurely rolled out of bed without setting an alarm. Damn, it was glorious. I strolled into the bathroom to pull my hair up into a messy bun. Then I slipped on my bathing suit, threw a robe on, grabbed my Kindle, a towel, and wandered out to the patio so I could soak in the hot tub while waiting for my muscles to loosen up. Apparently, working with my father six days a week made me tense. Since it was only a little after nine in the morning, I had at least an hour before I could expect the golfers to begin passing by the backyard. The joys of living on the 18^th fairway.

Dropping my robe onto a nearby lounger, I made my way to the hot tub. After I set my ereader on the patio beside the tub with my towel, I stepped in carefully, and sighed in delight as I slid in up to my hairline. Once I could feel my muscles relaxing, I rolled over onto my stomach, reached out, dried my hands, and began scanning my device. Devouring one romance novel a week had become my guilty pleasure.

For a while I read in silence, soaking away the sting of my life, until the occasional ‘fore’ broke my concentration. With a sigh, I turned off my device and climbed out of the water. I toweled off and slid my robe on, carefully cinching it. Then I wandered into the house to shower and dress.

By the time I returned, the golfers were out in force, determined to complete their eighteen holes before the scorching sun made it more miserable than fun. As was my habit, I turned on the grill, then went inside to pull out the chicken breasts I’d been marinating in multiple dressings and prep some veggie pouches. I’d learned to spend the day cooking so I could eat healthy all week instead of hitting a drive thru every night on the way home.

I strolled out to the grill with the chicken in hand when a golf ball came sailing my direction. “Fuck!” I glanced around angrily. These assholes knew they were supposed to warn people.

Then I spotted him. Doug Brenner rushed to the edge of my yard. “Oh, so sorry, Kate. The ball just seemed to get away from me.” The man was in his early sixties, lived in my gated community, and this seemed to be part of his weekly routine.

“I understand, Doug. Just shout next time, okay?” I frowned as he opened the gate to my yard.

I saw another man following behind him. He smiled up at me from the ground. “Hello, Kate.”

With a smirk, I greeted him. “Mr. George.”

“We’re not at the hotel. You should call me Ty.” He laughed, as if he knew I wouldn’t.

“I’m well aware. And you should still call me Ms. Summers.” I shook my head.

“How come he gets to call you Kate?” Ty crossed his arms over his chest and pretended to pout.

He seemed fun and I wanted to play with him, but something stopped me. I’m guessing it was the same something that always stopped me. My father had ruined men for me. “He has known me since I was a child,” I explained.

“That’s right, Doug remarked proudly. “I’ve known Kate for years. Her father and I have been friends forever.” He clapped Ty on the shoulders. “Much like the relationship I hope to build with you, young man.”

Ty looked at me and mouthed, ‘Young man?’ Then he smiled at Doug. “I like the sound of that.” He turned his attention to me. “We’re talking about renovations to the hotel.”

I could feel my cheeks turn pink. “You don’t own the hotel,” I reminded him.

“Yes,” he agreed. “Although, I’m hoping if I put together the right offer, Mr. Nash might show some interest and decide to retire.”

“Oh, her father isn’t the retiring type. That guy is a legend in these parts. He’ll go out with his boots on.” Doug nodded knowingly.

The confusion was evident in Ty’s face and I knew why. My shoulders sank some as I pictured what would happen once he knew Mr. Nash and my father were one and the same. The pan with chicken shifted in my hand. I could feel the color drain from my face. My knees started to wobble. Ty immediately sprang into action, sprinting up the three steps and catching it before I collapsed or could spill the chicken onto the cement.

He studied me with concern. “Are you okay?” He gently placed the back of his hand against my forehead. “Come sit.” Ty wrapped an arm around my waist and brought me to the patio set near the grill. He set the chicken down, then pulled out the chair for me and helped me into it. Then he squatted in front of me. “Could be blood sugar.” He frowned. “You went completely pale and broke out into a cold sweat on me.” Standing, he glanced around the patio area.

“What are you doing?” If I was pink before, I had to be bright red now. This was absolutely humiliating.

“Looking for a drink. I want to make sure you’re hydrated.” He took my hand and turned it over in his to study my palms. “Seems like you might have been in the hot tub earlier.”

My brow rose. “What makes you think so?”

His eyes sparkled. “Your hair is wet. Your fingers are wrinkly. And you’re before, you were quite pink.” Ty stood and placed a hand on my shoulder. “I’m going in the house to get you a drink. Wait here.”

By now Doug had joined us on the patio and taken the seat across from me. “Why don’t you bring me one too?” He settled in and folded his hands on his belly.

Ty smirked. “Of course.” Then he walked behind Doug and rolled his eyes.

I wanted to laugh, but I covered my mouth with my hand instead. My mind was reeling with all the ways this could go horribly wrong. So much for a relaxing Sunday.

Within minutes, Ty had returned. He passed me a drink first. “It’s ginger ale. I wasn’t sure how your tummy was feeling.”

My brows arched. “Did you just say ‘tummy?’”

“Yes. And I was wondering over yours in particular.” He grinned and winked. Then he passed Doug a glass.

Doug took one swig and spit it out. “What the hell is this?”

Licking his lips, I could tell Ty was struggling to keep a straight face. “I believe it’s called water.” Then he bit his cheek and I knew he was barely holding it together.

“Who drinks water?” Doug huffed. Then he glanced at his watch. “I need to be home in an hour. You ready to finish the last hole?”

Not long ago, I would’ve been eager for him to leave, but now I wanted him to stay. I wanted to know more about this unusual man who had burst into my life. After all, it seemed like we were constantly getting thrown together.

Ty searched my face for a moment before responding, then he shook his head. “I’m going to stick around here and help Kate for a little bit. I want to make sure she’s feeling okay before I leave her alone. I hope you understand.” He shrugged apologetically.

Doug studied him a minute. “You’re a good boy. I’ll be sure to tell her father.” He started to heft himself out of the chair when Ty held out a hand to assist. “Thank you, son.” Once he made it to his feet, he clapped Ty on the shoulder. Then he came over and gave me a kiss on the temple before wandering off.

My shoulders sank in relief. “Thank you,” I murmured before grabbing another sip of my drink.

“You’re more than welcome.” He smiled then picked up the chicken.

“Hey, what are you doing?” I started to stand, but he frowned.

“You should kick back and relax. I told Doug I was going to help you. I mean to keep my word.” He looked down at the raw food. “Obviously, you were about to cook these. And I’m lousy at sitting around and doing nothing. How do you think I ended up on the golf course today? Let me help. It’s what I do. I’m good at fixing things.” Then he turned away and strode confidently to the grill.

Great. A fixer. Just what I needed…to be fixed. This would imply I was broken. I swallowed the hard truth of it before concentrating on the present. “Do you even know how to work one of those things?” I frowned as he lifted the lid on the grill. Somehow, I had a hard time imagining him doing anything for himself. Ty George struck me as being a spoiled little rich boy. I knew the type. I’d been chased by them for years until I’d learned to fend them off completely.

Instead of acting insulted, Ty laughed. “Yeah. I know how to do all kinds of unexpected things.”