McNeil's Match Read online

  He got in, fastened his seat belt and glanced at her. “If I don’t need an excuse, that means I can put my arms around you whenever I like.” She didn’t respond. “Well, what do you say to that?”

  “You do that already.”

  He ignited the engine and headed the car toward the center of the city. “Oh, no, I don’t. There are times, like last night, when I practically come unglued because I can’t have my arms around you.”

  “I hope you’re not suggesting that that’s my fault.”

  “Whose fault is it? It isn’t mine.”

  She snapped her finger. “I knew it was something. I just knew it. The little people are at it again.”

  “I wish they’d mind their own business.”

  “No,” she said, feeling her oats. “You’re the one who isn’t minding yours. You sat there with me fifteen minutes while the rain beat out a rhythm on the hood of your truck, the most romantic kind of setting, and I don’t remember your having put your arms around me or kissing me, either.” She nudged him in his side. “Do you?”

  “Did you want me to kiss you?”

  “We’re not talking about what I wanted...we’re discussing your wants and how lackadaisically you handle them. If I wanted—”

  “Don’t say it. Nothing’s to prevent my pulling over to the curb and giving the citizens of San Antonio a little show.”

  “You would need my cooperation.”

  “And if I really wanted to do that, I’d get your cooperation,” he said without an inkling of a smile. “Oh, you’d make me pay later, but just as I remember with the clarity of clear, clean glass how I feel when you let yourself go in my arms, I know you recall what it’s like when I heat you up. That said, let’s stop the one-upmanship and enjoy being together.”

  “What one-upmanship? I don’t mind if you win. Nothing gives me more pleasure than being close to you when you’re on fire. Of course, if I start daydreaming about you, I won’t be able to focus on my tennis game, and you wouldn’t want that. Would you?”

  “You’re the one who thinks we haven’t known each other long enough to...to care for each other. I don’t subscribe to that, and if you face the facts, neither will you.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “I don’t believe it. A parking place.” He parked, cut the engine and turned to face her. “I understand myself and my reactions to you and to other people, and I know when what a woman expresses to me is deep feeling and when it’s only sexual desire. I wouldn’t be much of a man if I didn’t know the difference.” His hand caressed the side of her face and stroked her shoulder. “You and I are on the same tract, sweetheart, and I think you know it.”

  Chapter 4

  A week later, exhausted from her workout with Max, Lynne opened her front door and welcomed Gary Hines into her home and her life. She wasn’t used to hearing her teeth chatter, but for the several minutes before Gary was due to arrive, that and the trembling of her fingers gave her reason to wonder whether she was ready for the opinions of one of the greatest tennis players of all time.

  “Hi. Come in,” she said. “We met briefly years back when I was climbing up the ranks, so I don’t expect you to remember meeting me.”

  His smile set her at ease. “I don’t remember that, but I sure remember that blistering backhand of yours. How’d you get along with Max?”

  She led Gary through the house to the deck where she had laid out lemonade and sandwiches. “It’s enough to endure four hours with Max. I’d as soon not spend time talking about him. He’s a great trainer, especially if you happen to be a horse.”

  Gary’s roar of laughter told her that he understood well what she hadn’t said. “He is that, but he’s a hard pill to swallow. If you’re still with him, that tells me you’re in good shape.”

  “Have a seat. I thought we’d eat lunch out here. Would you rather have iced tea?”

  He shook his head and reached for the lemonade. “This hits the spot. How are you feeling? Mentally, I mean.”

  “I’m giving myself two years in which to become number one. That’s my goal. If I make it sooner, so much the better.”

  “If you’re fit, there’s no reason why you shouldn’t get there.”

  “But I’m twelve years older than the current champion, and that’s the only thing that worries me.”

  He stopped eating, leaned back in the chair and looked hard at her. “No woman playing tennis today is as good at it as you were when you left the game. You still hold the record for serves. I don’t want to hear any talk like that.” He picked up his sandwich. “I’m here to see that you win. If you jog five miles a day and spend an hour with Max, that will keep you in shape. Two hours with him and four with me will wear you out.”

  Thank the Lord for a reasonable coach. “Who’s going to tell Max, you or me?”

  Gary’s laugh sounded a bit hollow. “I will. Max doesn’t show me his ugly side.”

  After their lunch, they walked out to the tennis courts. “I’m thinking of putting lights over the hard court so I’ll get used to playing at night. I figure I don’t need a grass court here, because grass was always an easy surface for me.”

  He walked over to the bench beside the hard court and selected two tennis balls from the container filled with them. “I’d like to see you serve.”

  She tossed up the ball and let it fall to the ground, picked it up, tossed again and drove it with all her strength. Not bad, she thought, served again and watched the ball streak down the center line for an ace.

  “Change over and serve from the other side.”

  She did it well, though less perfectly. “That’s my weak side,” she explained.

  “I wouldn’t call it weak. Are you ambidextrous?” She shook her head. “Then, it was a good serve. Not as powerful as it’s going to be, mind you, but a good one. Let’s play a game. You serve first.”

  At the end of their two sets, which she lost 6–2, 6–3 to a man still capable of winning tough matches on the men’s tour, she sat down on the bench and said a word of thanks. If she worked hard, she’d make it. Gary hadn’t forced her to run from one side of the court to another like a puppy chasing a Frisbee disk, because his thirty-six years had taken their toll, but one of the younger female players would, so she didn’t think she had anything to preen about.

  “How’d I do, Gary?”

  “Your second serve needs some work, but I think that’s only a matter of confidence. You’re reasonably accurate, but you want to add power, and you need to get those drives to the corners down as perfect as they used to be. That’s what we’ll work on first. When you’re satisfied that you can hit those corners, you’ll be on your way. For today, I’m pleased. See you tomorrow at eleven-thirty. We’ll work for two hours, rest for an hour and work two more hours. Okay?”

  She remembered her pledge to Sloan. “I’d like Saturday afternoon and Sunday off. I don’t work out on Saturday.”

  “Good. Then you and I will work out Saturday mornings from eight to twelve with half an hour for rest. See you tomorrow.”

  After a shower, she put on a yellow sundress and a pair of espadrilles, went out on the deck—shaded by the huge willows and pine trees—and after hooking a chain to Caesar’s collar, tethered him to the railing beside her chair. The pup settled beside her feet and went to sleep. Using her cellular phone, she telephoned her brother at his office.

  “Thurston speaking. What may I do for you?” She enjoyed the authority with which Brad answered the phone and, indeed, with which he carried himself. He didn’t allow anyone to guess whether he meant what he said or whether he was in command, traits she knew he had learned from their late father.

  “Hi, Thurston,” she teased. “This is Thurston calling.” Simultaneously with the sound of a car stopping in front of her house, Caesar growled an
d jumped up with his tail straight out.

  “What was that? Was that a dog?” Brad asked her.

  “That was Caesar. Let me see if anyone’s coming to the house.” She listened, heard the automobile drive off and looked down at Caesar. The dog relaxed his guard, returned to his place beside her chair and closed his eyes as if asleep.

  “A car stopped and that got Caesar’s attention, but it continued down Corpus Christi Lane, and Caesar’s ready to go back to sleep.”

  “When did you get a dog and what kind is he?”

  “He’s a purebred German shepherd, and I’ve had him about ten days. Sloan gave him to me. He said I should have a guard dog, and even though Caesar is a little less than five months, he’s already conscious of his territory and his job.”

  “If it was his dog, who’s going to protect you from Sloan?”

  She was going to enjoy this. Rarely did she get a chance to put her uppity brother in his place. “Brad, I don’t want anybody to protect me from Sloan. He does that well enough himself. Beside, Sloan got that dog from a kennel and brought him straight to me.”

  “Are you out of your mind? The guy’s a complete stranger.”

  “He was. But I’m getting to know him, and I’m discovering that he reminds me a lot of Daddy. Brad, this man is as straight as the crow flies, and I’d bet my life on it.”

  “How did he react when you asked him to work in his office and leave servicing automobiles to his employees?”

  “I...uh...I didn’t mention it to him yet.”

  “Well, you’ll be on the tour soon, and you want to be able to introduce him to your associates.”

  “And whether he works at a desk or under a car will determine how he shakes hands? Give me a break, Brad.”

  “Look, sis, don’t be too clever. I’m right, and you know it. If you insist on seeing this guy, protect your money, your virtue and your status. I know what I’m talking about. Did you call Breckenridge and Breckenridge?”

  “Not yet. I’ll do that tomorrow. Do you think they could find the deed specifying the perimeters of my property?”

  “Sure. They have experts on every aspect of property buying and selling, and they won’t mislead you.”

  She thanked him and made a mental note to telephone Thelma about the pool she hoped to install if her house proved to be a sound buy.

  * * *

  Sloan wanted to see Lynne that evening, but he didn’t intend to make a nuisance of himself. He wanted proof that what he felt for her was mutual, and that meant she had to acknowledge it at least to herself. At about six o’clock, when he knew that she had finished her tennis lessons, he sat on his back porch, braced his feet against the railing and crossed his ankles. Maybe he’d call her. He usually liked the sound of his neighbor’s young children playing, laughing and enjoying their childhood, but that afternoon, he wanted peace and to be as much alone as possible. If he couldn’t be with Lynne, he didn’t want human company. He reached down and got the bottle of beer that rested on the floor beside him, twisted off its top and drank half of it, guaranteeing that when he went to bed, he’d fall asleep. He wanted to know how she was and how she was faring with Caesar, but those were excuses, and he refused to indulge himself.

  “Hello,” he said after allowing the mobile phone to ring half a dozen times.

  “Hi. This is Lynne. Where were you?”

  For a minute, his breath seemed trapped in his throat, and he couldn’t utter a word. “Sloan?”

  “Sorry. Hello, Lynne. What a pleasant surprise. How are you and how was your first day with your coach?”

  “I like working with him. We played two sets and he beat me 6–2, 6–3. I’m not sure he played his best, but he sure gave me a tough game. He identified the weakest elements of my game, and that’s what we’ll work on first. Also, Sloan, he’s far more gentle than Max will ever be, and he reduced my training schedule with Max to one hour daily Monday through Friday. So I’m feeling good right now.”

  “I imagine you are. And if you scored five points in two sets with Gary Hines, you really played well. Remember, this is his first year in retirement, and he’s probably the best ever. How’s Caesar?”

  “Caesar is lying here at my feet, pretending to doze. A car stopped in front of the house a while ago, and he growled, jumped up, cocked his ears and seemed ready to spring. The car drove on, and he lay down again and closed his eyes. I patted his head, and he seemed to like that.”

  “Do you have any idea why that car stopped or who it was?” He’d bet she hadn’t bothered to check.

  “We’re on the deck, and I didn’t go to the front of the house.”

  “Hmm. Do you think you deserve a cone of ice cream?”

  “I sure do, but I also deserve some supper before I eat dessert. If you promise to be good, I’ll treat you to deviled shrimp.”

  “You’re on. Woman, I’m always good, and I love shrimp. What time shall I get there?”

  “If you want to, you may leave home now, and we can take Caesar for a walk.”

  “I’ll be there in forty-five minutes.”

  He changed his T-shirt for a short-sleeve dress shirt, decided that his light gray trousers were adequate, slipped on a pair of black loafers, threw a black dress jacket over his right shoulder and locked his house. After checking his tires, as he usually did before driving, he got into the Buick and headed for Lynne’s house. She answered the door wearing a green scooped-neck blouse, a beige broomstick skirt and white espadrilles. Her welcoming smile kicked his heart into a gallop, and he sucked in his breath.

  “You are so beautiful. It doesn’t matter whether you’re dressed up or dressed down. You’re always lovely. At least to me.” He handed her a bag that contained the ice cream.

  She seemed taken aback, and he couldn’t figure out why. With her gaze on the floor, she said, “You look good, too.” Then she looked up and smiled. “Real good.”

  “I could love you senseless.” He stared at her, realizing that he’d voiced his thoughts although he hadn’t meant to. “I...uh...didn’t plan to say that. It...” He gave up. “Let’s take Caesar for a walk before it gets too dark. By the way, I didn’t notice anything untoward when I looked around out there.”

  She left him, put the ice cream in the freezer and strode back to him, her face a blanket of smiles.

  “Did you think anything could be wrong?”

  “Not necessarily, but I leave nothing to chance.” He grinned at her, though he didn’t feel like it. “Don’t you think you should kiss me?” he asked. “I mean, if I have to be on my best behavior, you have to do the kissing.”

  She gaped at him, as would one who was dumbstruck. And suddenly, laughter pealed out of her and her body shook with it until she leaned against him and clung.

  “Lynne, something must be funny, or you wouldn’t laugh this way. But, sweetheart, you shouldn’t laugh at a guy who’s trying to do the right thing.” She clapped her hands, spread her arms and exploded with laughter, and he realized that she wasn’t laughing at him, but that she was truly joyous.

  She confirmed that when she collected her composure and said, “You’re so precious. So sweet and so precious. I wouldn’t take anything for you. Oh, Sloan, you’re so dear.”

  He was ahead, and he planned to stay there. “If that’s true, why don’t you kiss me?”

  Playing his game, she took both his hands, locked them behind him and held them there, stood on tiptoe with parted lips and said, “Bend down, please.” His lips touched hers, and she flicked her tongue over them, sending fiery shocks throughout his body. She pressed herself to him, and a sweet and terrible longing spread over him as she kissed his eyes, his cheeks, his nose, forehead and lips. Then, she released his hands and gripped him in a fierce hug.

  “Want to go now? I’ll get Caesar.”

 
She turned to go, but he detained her with an arm across her shoulder. He had to do something, anything, to show her how the tenderness with which she had adored him affected him. Careful not to start a fire, he hugged her tightly and set her away from him.

  “Go ahead. I’ll be hungry any minute.”

  She walked away from him, tall and willowy, her beautifully rounded hips swaying as she went. Surely the Lord wouldn’t bring this woman into his life for the purpose of teasing and punishing him. Yet, he knew there was much he didn’t know about her, and that he wanted and needed to know. She returned with Caesar leashed, his tail wagging in a friendly greeting. He resisted patting the dog, because he thought that Lynne alone should exercise that familiarity with him. He was, after all, not a pet but a guard dog.

  “He’s grown a lot in such a short time,” he told her, taking her key and locking the door.

  “Yes, and he’s so intelligent. I walk him around the edges of my property, but when we’re leaving here to walk down the lane, I bring him through the front door. He knows the difference, and he knows where he lives.”

  He allowed a smile to envelop his face. “Would I give you anything that wasn’t perfect?”

  She looked up at him and winked. “Not if you could help it.”

  “Best not to comment on that,” he said to himself, and didn’t.

  Caesar ran along in front of them to the extent that his leash would allow, but when the reached the corner, he stopped and looked at Lynne.

  “Let’s wait for the light,” she said. “I’m trying to teach him not to cross on the red light, to cross when traffic is going in his direction. I don’t know if it makes sense, but I’d just die if he got hurt. I’m going to fence the property so that he can enjoy roving around without a leash.”

  “I think you’ve become attached to him.”

  “I am. He’s wonderful company. When I’m on the deck, he always puts himself down beside my feet.”

  He grinned, although he didn’t feel much like it. “God forbid I should be jealous of a dog. What are your plans for the Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays? I imagine my parents will be distraught if I don’t spend those holidays with them, but I’d also like to be with you.”