Page 96 of Sweet Spot
“Why?”
“Because I needed to make sure that when I told you that I love you too, you knew it wasn’t because I needed you to coach me.” Her hands cradle my face. “I love you so much.”
My head falls back, and a laugh rumbles from my chest. “Nice try, we have a lot of work to do before June.”
“Can you kiss me first?”
I crash my mouth down onto hers, holding nothing back. I don’t know how I lived without her, but I don’t plan on ever letting her go.
Epilogue
Keira
Two Months later . . .
I standon the golf course at the ninth hole right outside of Lincoln’s grandmother’s house. What feels like a million people are gathered around me. Some talk to me and others only about me.
“Just act natural.”
“But try to smile.”
“I think she needs a little more blush.”
“How’s the black shirt? Should we have her in white instead?”
“Can I have a minute with Keira?” Lincoln’s voice cuts through the others, and I want to fall into him the second everyone else walks off and it’s just us.
“Nervous?” he asks.
“Yeah, when you said we were gonna shoot a video for the site, I thought it’d just be you and me.” I gesture toward the people and equipment. It looks like we’re shooting a music video. “Is all this necessary?”
“Nothing but the best for my star client. Ignore them and just show off for me, sweetheart.” He hands me my wedge and a ball, drops a kiss to my cheek, and calls everyone back.
When I’m given the go ahead, I take a breath and start.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
The noise soothes and excites me. Body poised, right forearm extended slightly in front of me, the tip of my tongue between my teeth, and my man standing on the sidelines watching me. I move through the trick, forgetting about the cameras.
After five takes, the guy holding the camera calls, “We got it.”
As the crew packs up, I stand off to the side and watch Lincoln thank everyone. He’s so good at being in charge, at making people feel his thanks and respect, and ultimately getting them to do what he wants in the exact way he wants them to do it.
“Seems like a lot of manpower for fifteen minutes of shooting,” I say when he walks over to me.
He takes my hand and leads me to the golf cart path. “Take a walk with me?”
“What about all our stuff? Shouldn’t we help pack up?”
“Trust me, they don’t want us touching their equipment. Leave your clubs here; we won’t be long.”
The sun sets in front of us, and we walk with our hands linked. It’s the perfect ending to a chaotic week. The Valley semester ended, and school is out—forever for me. I’m going to finish my degree eventually, but since meeting Lincoln and realizing what’s possible, it no longer feels like the right path for me. I have new goals and dreams, starting with playing in the US freaking Open next week.
Also, I moved in with Lincoln. A big step for us, but another one that just felt right. I’m attempting to hide the extent of my messiness for at least another month or two so he doesn’t change his mind.
But so far, it’s been bliss. He works a lot, but I’ve instituted a shirtless workplace, and that’s helped morale a lot, if I do say so myself. And when he forgets to take a moment to breathe, I just crawl into his lap, wrap my arms around him, and remind him.
“I really love it out here. Think Gram will mind if I start sleeping on her patio every night?”
