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  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Synopsis

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  About the Author

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Bella Books

  Synopsis

  After giving up her Grand Slam dream for love five years ago, Jodi Richards is ready to make a comeback. Her heart is broken but her mind is clear: tennis is her only true love. Hoping to earn the wild card entry for the US Open, she rehires her coach and starts the grueling work of getting back on the pro-circuit. It’s a long shot but she’s more determined than ever…

  A successful Juniors coach, Miranda Ciccone jumps at the chance to join Team Richards as Jodi’s assistant coach. Thrown together constantly as they travel to major tournaments, the two women fight their growing attraction. When Miranda realizes she can no longer ignore her feelings for Jodi, she must choose: stay at the risk of distracting Jodi from her biggest professional opportunity, or silently turn her back on the possibility of love. Either way—she could end up destroying Jodi’s dream.

  Settling for either love or tennis would be easy—but having both seems nearly impossible. Will Jodi and Miranda play it safe or step up their game for the chance to win it all?

  Copyright © 2016 by RL Burgess

  Bella Books, Inc.

  P.O. Box 10543

  Tallahassee, FL 32302

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  First Bella Books Edition 2016

  eBook released 2016

  Editor: Shelly Rafferty

  Cover Designer: Linda Callaghan

  ISBN: 978-1-59493-483-4

  PUBLISHER’S NOTE

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  About the Author

  At the age of 22, RL’s friend shouted her to a visit with Rainbow Psychic. Rainbow held RL’s hand across a worn Formica table and told her she would be a writer, describing the life she would have, sitting on her porch with a fat Labrador and a swing seat. A musician at the time, RL felt vaguely disappointed, shrugging off Rainbow’s vision to pursue her dreams of touring the world in a band. Fourteen years later, her world touring accomplished, RL found herself pacing her house in the evenings while her beloved five-year-old son slept, wondering what to do with herself. Her partner suggested she write. And the rest is history.

  NB: Whilst they do not yet have a Labrador or a swing seat, they all live happily in Melbourne, Australia with a perfectly functioning porch and two happy cats.

  Dedication

  For Grandma, who gave me my first romance novel.

  Acknowledgments

  Ultimate thanks go to my partner Sam, for teaching me about tennis, encouraging me to write and being an absolute rock of incredible support. Your heart truly is gold.

  And to my editors, Shelly and Jackie, thanks for guiding me through the tough spots and showing me how to dig deeper.

  Lastly, thank you to Bella Books, for saying yes!

  Prologue

  Eight months earlier

  Jodi pressed the phone to her ear with a shaky hand. Please be home, she thought as she listened to it ring, once, twice. Please be home.

  “Hello?” The sound of her sister’s voice filled Jodi with relief.

  “Jodi? What’s wrong?” Ally’s voice was concerned. “What’s happened?”

  “Tara’s left me.” Jodi choked out. “It’s over.”

  “Oh sis, I’m so sorry.” Ally genuinely did sound sorry. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. Two hours, tops.”

  “Can you bring the van?” Jodi asked, “I’ve got some stuff.”

  “Of course!”

  Ally was there in an hour and a half, having battled the I-80 traffic from Sacramento to San Francisco with Goliath-like determination. She ran up the stairs to give her sister a long tight hug.

  Together they loaded Jodi’s bags into the back of the van and Jodi had left a note for Tara on the kitchen bench: You keep the rest. Jodi.

  Jodi stayed with Ally and her husband for a few weeks, holed up in the spare room in their spacious home in Sacramento. She was comforted by the old feeling of being tucked under her big sister’s wing, hiding out from the world as she licked her wounds. Jodi couldn’t face house hunting and decided she wouldn’t look for a new place until she was ready to buy. She decided instead to find a hotel and set herself up somewhere totally new, somewhere that held no memories of Tara.

  Thankfully, Sacramento had a wealth of comfortable, nondescript hotels to choose from. Jodi picked a place that looked architecturally interesting on the outside, while still subscribing to the classic hotel formula of white walls and beige bedspreads. The hotel was right in the city center, a place where she had spent little time since her teen years. She and Ally had grown up on the outskirts of Sacramento, but in her twenties she had always preferred the allure of San Francisco’s night life when she got a rare night off from her grueling tennis schedule. And now, it felt somehow easier to be staying in a hotel, like she was just visiting, as if the reason she was lost and confused was because she was a tourist, not because she was suffering from a broken heart.

  Settling into her temporary new home, Jodi allowed herself to drift, freewheeling through the pain and the shock, wandering through the fog inside her as she tried to remember who she was. She couldn’t quite touch it. She had spent so many years denying herself, pushing away what she really wanted in order to fit in with Tara.

  One morning as Jodi sat on the floor by the window, pressing her head against the glass, she watched the people pass by on the street below. She felt aimless and indecisive, not really knowing what to do with herself. For the last five years her free time had been filled with Tara, with doing the things that Tara wanted to do. Watching a man with a tennis racket step out onto the curb and into a waiting taxi, she suddenly realized she was free to choose to be or do anything she wanted. She could be like any of those people. More to the point, she could be herself. Deep down, a little piece of her abruptly buzzed with excitement.

  Jason, she thought. I need to call Jason.

  With trembling fingers, Jodi punch
ed in the numbers she still knew by heart, hoping Jason hadn’t changed his number, hoping he’d be receptive to her call. When she had left the game five years earlier, she had left abruptly. Jason could be forgiven for being angry with her: he had been an amazingly supportive coach and had been patiently persistent with her when she had started to withdraw, yet she had turned her back on him and left him in the dark. He hadn’t deserved that. He had been much more than just her coach. He had been her friend.

  Things had gotten tough back then. She had been at the top of her game but injuries had been plaguing her, petty strains and tears causing havoc with her body and mindset, leaving her irritable, unconfident and unfocused.

  Jason had tried to help her, gently steering her in the right direction and counseling her to stay calm, but Jodi felt she was slipping and the feeling made her crazy. She pushed herself to practice harder and longer, exacerbating her injuries and ultimately undermining her game.

  Jason had protested and tried to intervene. “Jodi,” he began. His frustration had been clear. “You’re an amazing tennis player. But you need to cut yourself some slack or you’re going to run yourself into the ground.”

  Jodi hadn’t listened to him.

  And then Tara. Tara with all the right curves in all the right places. Tara with her distractingly long, honey-colored locks and piercing green eyes. Tara with the perfectly tanned skin and neverending legs that seemed designed to be wrapped around Jodi. Tara who wanted to comfort Jodi and who had effortlessly extracted her from the game Jodi had found herself at war with, plucking her from the struggle as if she were a child to be picked up and tucked under her arm.

  Jodi and Tara had met at a house party in the hills of Berkeley, where Jodi knew only a few people and felt out of her depth. She had won her match that day by the skin of her teeth and felt uneasy and awkward at the party. Admiring the view through the huge open French windows, Jodi had responded to the magic by sneaking off to a dark corner of the deck to enjoy the sparkle of San Francisco’s lights against the blackness of the Pacific Ocean. Out of the darkness, she had heard a sigh next to her.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” Jodi had said, startled. “I didn’t realize there was anybody else here.”

  “That’s okay.” A woman stepped out of the shadows. “I’m just enjoying this incredible view.”

  Jodi had stared at the woman, her pupils captivated by her sudden appearance. The darkness of the night smoothed off lines and softened edges and Jodi felt she was looking at possibly the most beautiful woman she had ever met.

  “I’m Jodi.” She offered her hand to shake.

  “Tara.” The woman took Jodi’s hand in both of hers and held it. “I know who you are. You’re the tennis player.” Tara turned Jodi’s hand over in hers, tracing the rough calluses that ran across the palm of Jodi’s hand with her thumbs.

  “From my racket,” Jodi stammered, suddenly nervous.

  “It’s too noisy around here for me tonight,” Tara said, still rubbing her thumbs across Jodi’s palm.

  Jodi tried to suppress a shiver.

  “Are you cold?” Tara asked.

  “No, I…you…” Jodi felt slightly out of her body.

  Turning her hand over, Tara linked her fingers through Jodi’s and pulled her closer. “It’s noisy here,” she said again. “Would you like to go and get a drink somewhere quieter? I know a pretty little place right on the bay.”

  And they left, just like that.

  Jodi hadn’t been an unwilling participant. Tara had gradually pulled her away from tennis, and Jodi let herself be pulled, as if their hands were still intertwined at the party. In the end, Jodi’s state of turmoil made it quite easy for her to let go of tennis. And Tara had been subtle but determined to have Jodi all to herself.

  Before long, Jodi found herself living in Tara’s luxury townhouse overlooking the bay. Tara’s taste for the finer things in life was evident in all that adorned the space, from the Wedgwood crystal glassware they filled with champagne and clinked together in the evenings, to the modern contemporary art that lined the crisp white walls. A highly successful and driven real estate agent, Tara worked long hours, moonlighting with clients and scouting for high-finance opportunities. She didn’t have time to travel with Jodi to out-of-town tournaments, which were too long and too far away. Jodi’s practice interfered in their weekend plans: boating with prospective clients or entertaining other industry bigwigs. Jodi’s strict athlete’s diet and eating regimens were awkward for dinners out and socializing, and most of all, it was hard to make love when her body was aching and exhausted from grueling four-hour matches and week-long tournaments.

  It had just seemed easier to focus on Tara and the life they were planning together than to fight her demons on the tennis court. Jodi made ridiculous last-minute excuses to Jason for pulling out of matches; she became unreliable and her ranking plummeted. Finally, she stopped returning his calls and allowed herself to fade out of his life.

  She knew she had hurt him. They had been through so much together, training hard at all hours of the day, working on her game through the depths of searing pain to the soaring heights of glorious successes that were as much his as hers. Jason had invested in her, believed in her, and made her his number one player. Yet she had left him wondering what the hell was going on, without so much as a thank you or a good-bye. Jodi had never told him she was gay. Never told him about Tara. Never told him she was suffering. She just stopped turning up.

  And now, as she sat on the floor of her hotel room, listening to the phone ring on the other end, she wondered if he would ever accept her apology, if her explanations would be too little, too late. It had been far too long and Jodi was ashamed and embarrassed.

  She was just about to hang up when a voice on the other end breathlessly answered “Hello?”

  “Jase,” she stumbled, not sure how to go on. “Uh, it’s me. Jodi.”

  Chapter One

  Jodi felt a trickle of warm sweat run slowly down between her shoulder blades. The weather gods had said today was going to be a scorcher, and they weren’t wrong. The heat swam up off the court in waves, burning through the soles of her shoes and baking her feet. She licked her parched lips and squinted her eyes against the harsh sun, focusing all of her energy across the court on her opponent, Kerry Jefferson, who was preparing her stance for service. C’mon, Jodi thought, let’s do this, Jefferson.

  Jodi danced gently from side to side on the balls of her feet, feeling a tiny breath of hot wind lift the edge of her shirt. She watched and waited, poised to leap into action. The ball flew wildly toward her and over the baseline.

  “Out!” the umpire called.

  Her opponent grimaced in frustration. Jodi felt a flicker of commiseration. So close, she thought. We’re almost there. She released the breath she didn’t realize she had been holding and checked her grip on the racket. The heat was making Jodi’s hands slippery and she wiped them on her shorts. Her muscles were tired and crying out for this game to be over. One more point and this match is mine. Just hold on, hold on, she told herself.

  Hearing the thump of the ball on Kerry’s racket, Jodi threw her body across the court, stretching her arm out wide and whipping the ball back across the net with huge force. Kerry lunged for it and scooped it up high, sending Jodi to the back of the court to catch the bounce and smash it back over the net.

  “Game! Set! Match: Richards!” the umpire cried.

  Relief flooded through Jodi and she dropped her racket, victoriously shaking her fist in the air. She looked up into the crowds and waved, feeling a surge of elation course through her. Catching the eye of Jason, her coach and her longtime friend, she pumped her fist again and blew him a kiss. He gave her the thumbs-up. Walking to the net to shake hands with Kerry, Jodi realized she was utterly exhausted.

  “Great match,” Jodi said, hugging her friend over the net. “It was a close one.”

  “Thanks,” Kerry mumbled, returning the hug, clearly disappointed and tire
d. “You did great.”

  They’d known each other on the tennis circuit for many years and Jodi could see the frustration and pain etched across Kerry’s face. She didn’t want to think about the number of times she had looked like that in the past.

  “You might need to give yourself some more time to heal that ankle.” Jodi gave her friend a sympathetic squeeze before they both headed off the court to grab their bags and greet their fans.

  The match had been a long one and Jodi could feel a wobble in her legs as she sat on her bench for a moment, putting her rackets back into their cases and draping a towel around her neck. Thanks Nan, she thought, taking a moment to send up her ritualistic, post-match gratitude to the woman she felt was always watching over her. We did it. She gulped down some water and rubbed her face with the towel, then looked up into the crowds again with a rush of joy as she noted the banners, the people still clapping and calling out her name. She had missed this. She waved at them again and grinned, holding up her towel like a trophy. Slinging her racket bag across her shoulder, Jodi stood up and gave the crowd one last wave. Heading off the court, she stopped to sign tennis balls and shake hands with the people she passed in the corridor on the way.

  At the locker rooms, Jason picked Jodi up and spun her around. “Jodi! You little champ!” he said.

  “Whoa,” Jodi replied with a laugh as her rackets banged against the locker room wall. “Easy, tiger!”

  Jason slapped her on the shoulder and handed her an energy bar.

  “Great match!” he enthused. “You smashed it out of the park today, Jodes. I was a bit worried about you at the end of the first set when you double-faulted, but you pulled it back like a pro and cleaned up. It was 105 degrees on court today. Did you feel it?” His blue eyes sparkled with excitement and Jodi had a sudden picture of what he must have looked like as a little boy. His sandy hair flopped endearingly across his forehead, just shading the top of his eyebrows, a bristly five o’clock shadow somewhat at odds with his youthful face. “You looked amazingly cool,” he said.