40-Love - Olivia Dade Page 0,42
certainly hope so.”
Twelve
“They called him the Sweet Swede, Belle.” Tess brushed yet more sand from her tablet, which she’d been using to unearth yet more information about Lucas. Clips from his matches; articles lauding his talent and lamenting his physical deterioration; accounts from fans who’d met their favorite, doomed tennis star. “He was famous for being soft-spoken with reporters. Well-liked in the locker room. A bit goofy at times on the court, but mostly quiet and hardworking. Not someone to scream at an umpire or posture or…”
Belle sat up and dipped her chin until she could see Tess over the top of her oversized sunglasses. “Or what?”
“Or act like a player. Off the court, anyway.”
Despite Karolina. The woman who’d shown up at the overlook, clearly anticipating and accustomed to a certain amount of intimacy with the island’s tennis pro.
Dammit. Was Tess fooling herself?
“Here’s the thing. For all his talk of sun and relaxation and lounging in the sand with various willing women, he doesn’t lounge. He works from early in the morning until late at night.” Tess hadn’t put the pieces together until she’d seen him at dawn for the second time in a week. “When he doesn’t hide behind that beach-bum-Casanova façade, he’s quite thoughtful. Sweet, like they said.”
Belle gave a neutral nod. “And the women?”
“I definitely think he gets around.” Tess shifted on the lounger, the towel bunching beneath her. “Although, to be fair, I imagine he’s less the chaser and more the chasee. I’m sure women are all over him because of how he looks and because he was famous.”
“He’s certainly chasing after you.” Belle set her book on the little wooden table between the loungers, lips pursed. “I don’t know whether to congratulate him for his excellent taste or start worrying.”
“Because if he’s chasing me, he might be chasing other women too?”
Belle let out a slow breath. “All this is beginning to sound less like a potential fling and more like the start of a potential relationship. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”
A roundabout, kind way of saying yes.
“When it comes to woman-chasing, I’m hoping he made an exception for me because I’m so freaking awesome.” Oh, Lord, was she letting herself believe what she wanted to, regardless of the evidence? “I know I could be wrong about him. But he seems sincere, Belle. And you know I have a top-of-the-line bullshit detector after what happened with Jeremy.”
Belle took off her sunglasses entirely, meeting Tess’s gaze with concern pleating her brow. “I don’t mean to be unsupportive. Whatever you decide to do, I’ll be here for you. It’s just…”
Tess waited.
“If he hurts you, I’ll feel responsible, since I basically threw you in his path.” Belle reached for Tess’s hand. Squeezed. “Please be careful. Even smart women make mistakes sometimes.”
That sounded…personal. More so than seemed reasonable under the circumstances.
“Honey? Did something happen with Brian?”
Belle was silent for a long moment. “Yes and no. But give me a little time before we talk about it.” Another pause, and then her fingers slipped away from Tess’s. “Maybe you shouldn’t listen to me when it comes to Lucas. I’m feeling kind of anti-men at the moment.”
She’d crossed one leg over the other, and her top foot was jiggling. Definitely agitated.
“Are you sure you don’t want to talk?” At her friend’s immediate nod, Tess persisted. “I’m happy to be your sounding board or your soft shoulder, if that’s what you need. Or your angel of vengeance, I suppose.”
At that, Belle snorted. “You? An angel? Please.”
“A vengeful one, like I said. The standards are a bit more lax.” Tess grinned. “So is that what you need? A flappy-winged bringer of doom?”
Belle raised her paperback in front of her face once more. “Weren’t you supposed to be working?”
A clear attempt at distraction, but she was right. Tess’s morning was almost gone, passed in a blur of Lucas and exactly zero new work-related ideas.
She tucked the tablet into her beach tote and got out her notebook. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll get back to work.”
Maybe, instead of fooling around with a twenty-something former tennis pro, she should do the same that night too.
Despite the doubts nipping at her confidence—Was she being played? Shouldn’t she spend this time working instead? Given the circumstances, where could any relationship with Lucas actually go, anyway?—Tess made her way to the clubhouse that night in her sexiest oversized tee.
Which seemed like a contradiction in terms, she knew.
But she wasn’t sure how she wanted this evening to end yet, so