Kiss My Putt

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Kiss My Putt Page 27

by Tara Sivec


  “Don’t forget, dinner with Laura, Wren, and Owen at my place tomorrow night,” Murphy leans forward to remind me. “I swear to all that is holy, Putz, if you forget dessert again, none of Murphy’s mouth-watering meat for you!”

  “Gross. Now I’m definitely not bringing dessert,” I joke with a shudder, which makes Murphy flick the back of my head.

  Yeah, I don’t feel empty or alone at all.

  Because Birdie makes sure her friends are my friends, and her family is my family, and that I don’t feel one second of loneliness.

  “I love you, sweet cheeks.”

  “Kiss my putt.” She laughs, looking up at me with a smile before pushing up on her toes and pressing her lips to mine.

  Yep, that’s my Birdie.

  My best friend.

  My everything.

  The End

  Keep your eyes out for Wren and Shepherd’s story:

  Swing and a Mishap (Summersweet Island #2)

  Check out all of Tara’s books:

  www.tarasivec.com

  Acknowledgements

  Thank you to my husband for begging me to write a golf book for like, four years now. I’m so glad I listened to you, but this will be the one and only time I’ll say you were right so enjoy this moment.

  Thank you to Amber Goleb for being my ride or die. #sorrynotsorry about Birdie.

  Biggest thank you in the world to Gina Behrends for saving the day and my sanity. I love your face!

  Thank you to Spawn for The Meth, The Chevy Tahoe, The Rotisserie Chicken, and The Lamp. Never change, baby girl. I love you the most.

  I could fill an entire book with how awesome Pamela Carrion is. Thank you for giving me a “vagina” when I desperately needed it. I love you oodles and oodles.

  Thank you to the Dragon Ranch Crew – Mark Armbruster, Jeff Murphy, Jennifer Swallow, Chris, and Adam for letting me “borrow” your names. If you read this, please skip the dirty parts. #longlivedragonranch

  Thank you to that teacher in high school who called the Dairy Twist (our small town ice cream shop right by school) the Dip and Twist one day and it became the funniest shit ever and that’s all anyone called that place from then on. It’s also what we call literally any ice cream shop, no matter what it’s real name is.

  “Get in the car, kids, we’re going to the Dip and Twist!”

  “Which one, you idiots?”

  And lastly, to the real “Backpack Brad” – Whoever you are and wherever you are in Virginia Beach, really hope you’re okay, man. Thanks for the inspiration while we stood on our balcony watching a thunderstorm roll in off the ocean. Also, maybe never, ever drink so much you pass out on a bench on the boardwalk and your friends all leave you, and then you wake up an hour later and stumble around drunk trying to figure out where the fuck you are. All with a backpack that had a water tube you never took off. We all know that wasn’t water, Bradley.

 

 

 


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