by Avery Wilde
“Yeah. Tim, is coming down, and we’re going tomorrow to have a proper look around.”
“I am so proud of you, girl,” Cara said, looking over at me. “This is the best thing for her and for you. I hope you see that.”
I nodded, knowing we were doing the right thing. It was far more than wanting to be with Damon. I wanted my mom safe and happy, unable to hurt herself and still living a good life.
“I can’t believe you are engaged to an athlete, as well,” Cara chatted as she drove along. “It’s crazy how life turns out.”
28
Ginny
“Oh my god! Did you see that? I mean what are they, blind?”
I laughed as Lucia stood up in the players’ box, looking very much like she did when Jacob’s game wasn’t going according to plan. We were all sitting in the area designated for Damon’s team and family, watching him play. Lucia, Cara, and I were up front on one side, Damon’s coach Derek and Jim, his agent, were to the left of us. And the boys, Jacob and Luke, were a row behind us. To my surprise, Damon had invited the entire gang to come watch him play. And we were jam-packed like sardines in his corner. They’d come without the kids. Thankfully Merry and David, Lucia’s stepmom and dad were looking after all their grandkids, including Luke and Cara’s one-year-old, Gwen, back at the hotel where we were all staying. I knew Damon was excited to have everyone there. In a short amount of time we’d all become a crazy little group of friends; Jacob and Luke had welcomed Damon with open arms, too.
Damon’s low grunts combined with the torrent of sweat that was dripping off him onto the hard blue court told me he was struggling to keep up. He was up against a top seed, playing his heart out. The stadium was packed, the final of the US Open. It was the last set, winner takes all, and for the last hour I’d practically chewed off all my nails watching each point.
“How do you do this so calmly?” Lucia asked as she sat back down, a frown on her face.
I shook my head. “I don’t know. I’m not really. I’m freaking out inside.”
“Well, it sucks when they are clearly picking on your man,” Cara added, sneaking a candy from the bag in front of her before popping it in her mouth.
Lucia nodded. “I know the refs, and the staff for the most part, hate to see me at Jacob’s games. All I do is tell them what they don’t do right.”
I looked down at Damon as he missed another serve, praying that this point would get better soon. If not, he was going to lose.
“So who’s going to be next to get pregnant?” Cara asked, clearly not into the match whatsoever. She definitely preferred baseball.
“I know who it’s not going to be,” Lucia exclaimed, patting her slowly diminishing stomach. “This girl is taking a break for a while. Three is enough… for now.”
“Yeah, right,” I said with a laugh. “Jacob would never allow you to do so. I heard he wants his own football team.”
“Jacob says what?” Jacob asked, leaning forward.
“That you better start pushing out babies if you want any more,” Lucia remarked. Jacob just nodded and sat back in his chair with a sly grin on his face, not believing a word coming out of his wife’s mouth.
I thought about a baby, one that would be the product of Damon and me, and I smiled. Kids hadn’t been in the cards for me before Damon, but now, well, it wouldn’t be such a bad thing. Maybe after some traveling.
“Well this girl doesn’t want to do it all over again, not yet,” Cara was saying just as the players on the court sat down for their break. Jacob and Luke got up to stretch their legs and left us girls to natter.
“I’m not ready,” I said before they could nominate me as the next baby-maker. I wanted to enjoy a few things in life before bringing children into the world. And now I was going to be able to with Damon beside me. After this match, whether he won or lost, he was taking a few weeks off. We’d go back to London to do a bit of sightseeing and apartment hunting, and then we’d soon be off to Japan for the next leg of the tennis circuit. We’d loop back to Europe after that for the remainder of the year.
“Well, we don’t expect you to right away,” Lucia said, giving me the look, “but I know you will totally join this club soon.”
“Well if it happens, it happens,” I countered. Looking back at the court, the players were taking their spots for the last few points. I prayed it wouldn’t go into a tie-breaker, but it did.
“I don’t know if I can look, he only has to win one more point.” Between the splayed fingers of my cupped hands over my eye, I watched with bated breath as Damon served the ball. The intense rally seemed to last forever; neither player wanted to make an unforced error that could lose him the match. Damon moved deep behind the baseline, slowly nudging forward, putting pressure on his opponent. He was doing it! He was going to win!
We all sucked in a breath and held it as we watched the last bit of the match. Damon hit the ball hard, a passing shot down the right-hand side. He’d placed the ball just out of reach of his opponent. The crowd cheered, and the chair umpire announced, “Game, set, match. Holden 6-4, 4-6, 7-6, 2-6, 7-6.”
Damon fell to his knees and looked up at me, shock and exhaustion plain to see on his face. It was over, he had done it!
The box erupted in cheers, but I stared at Damon, feeling the surge of emotion that was no doubt running through his body, as well. He had done it. He rose from his knees and shook his head in disbelief, our eyes connecting again. I gave him a thumbs-up and he grinned, heading toward the box, his racket in his hand. I leaned over as far as I could, barely able to touch the top of his head. “I love you,” he breathed, mopping the sweat off his forehead.
“Oh Damon,” I said, my heart full. “I love you, too, you silly man. Go get your trophy.”
He winked at me before jogging over to shake hands with his opponent. I watched, tears in my eyes. This was huge. It was going to do wonders for his career.
We all stayed put as the trophies were presented, the cheering almost never stopping. After all the excitement, Damon gave a last wave and salute to all his fans and left the court with his opponent, both stopping along the way to sign autographs.
Everyone headed off, Derek and Jim made a hasty exit to go join Damon while he went through his cool-down regimen, and the others went to feed the kids before we would all get back together later that evening to celebrate. I went and waited for Damon in his private quarters. He appeared not long later and immediately charged me. His hands laced with mine as we kissed.
“I’m so proud of you,” I said softly, rubbing my thumb over his. “I’ve never seen you play like that before—it was amazing.”
“It felt different, too, I was more focused. But I’m glad it’s over. I’m exhausted,” he said.
“Well,” I started, caressing his brow, “we could cancel our plans tonight and stay in. Celebrate tomorrow?”
He shook his head. “No, I’ll be fine. I want to go out with them all. It’s not every day you win the US Open.” He paused and grinned. “Holy shit. I actually won.”
“You did, honey. Is it finally sinking in?”
“I don’t think it will ever fully sink in, to be honest.”
Damon had his obligatory interviews to do before we could escape Flushing Meadows, but as soon as they were done, we were in a private car, heading back to the hotel. The car pulled up and we climbed out, riding the elevator up to the room in giddy silence. Every once in a while, one of us would burst into laughter. We found our way to our room, and I hadn’t gotten the door open far enough before Damon was on me, kissing my neck softly. “I know what I need, and I think you got it.”
“You think or you know?” I said with a laugh as his hands started to roam down my body.
He looked up and winked. “I know you have what I need, and I am determined to get it, right now.”
“I thought you were exhausted?”
“Changed my mind.”
I watched through hungry eyes as Damon deftly unbuttoned my shirt,
pushing it aside to have access to my lace-covered breasts. “Yes,” he said, cupping them with his hands. “This is what I needed.”
I moaned and closed my eyes, allowing the sensations to wash over me as Damon’s hands roamed my body. I could never get enough of him touching me.
When he reached for the button on my jeans, my legs went numb, knowing full well what was about to take place. I pushed at his shoulders, reaching for my own buttons and pulled my jeans off leg by leg as he watched. When I was dressed only in my bra and panties, Damon pulled his own shirt over his head. The t-shirt pooled on the floor.
“Come here, I want your hands on me,” he said, his voice breaking out into a plea.
I pushed away from the door and walked over to him, touching his shoulders with my fingers lightly. “Like this?” I asked innocently.
“Lower,” he growled. I let my hands dance over his firm torso, my lips pressing a kiss on his pec right above his heart. When my fingers connected with his waistband, he helped me remove his shorts, his cock springing forward, hard and heavy with arousal.
“How about here?” I asked, wrapping my hand around his shaft. He groaned and closed his eyes as I moved my hand up and down, tracing the bulging head with my fingertip. With Damon, I felt bold and sexy, able to do things that I hadn’t ever done before. Damon’s own hands stilled mine and I looked up, finding him straining against my touch. “I’m about to fucking explode,” he said softly.
I swatted his hands away, taking him back in my hand. “Then do it. I want you to; come on my tits.”
His eyes heated, and I kneeled in front of him and started to stroke him faster, feeling in control as I watched a range of emotions cross his face. He was beautiful. He gritted his teeth and then groaned, the hot, wet seed spurting over my cleavage. A few splatters ended up on my lips, and I licked them away as I rode the waves with him, my hands in my pants, fingering myself.
“Shit, Ginny,” he said, pulling away. “You get naughtier every time.” He pulled me up onto my feet, against him.
“God, I love you,” he said, pressing a kiss to the side of my neck. I leaned back as his arms wrapped around me, feeling the warmth and security I felt every time I was in his arms. He lifted me up and I squealed as he carried me towards the bedroom. “It’s your turn now.”
29
Damon
“Let me offer you some advice. After all, I’ve done it twice. The trick is not to faint,” he said with a grin.
I adjusted the bow tie in the mirror once more, meeting my dad’s eyes in the reflection, matching his smile. “Relax, I’m not going to faint.” I wasn’t nervous. I was perfectly calm. My hands were steady as rocks. I knew she was the one; I had no doubts about that at all. I was more nervous on my big match days than I was marrying Ginny.
My dad chuckled and placed a hand on my shoulder, gripping it lightly. “No, I don’t suppose you will. I will say that I am extremely proud of you, son. You’ve done well. We all love Ginny and are so glad she’s becoming a proper part of the family.”
“Thanks, Dad,” I said, emotion in my voice. His cancer was still in remission, but both he and Mom had decided that life was too precious to continue working the way they had been. So both had officially retired in the last year, taking the time to travel the world together. As far as I could tell, they were still in wedded bliss—the honeymoon period was still well in effect.
He took one final glance at me, nodded, and walked out of the room, leaving me to gather my thoughts before taking the next big step in my life. It was hard to believe that this day was finally here, my wedding day. The last year had been one of the best years of my life. I’d helped Ginny and her brother get their mom settled into the best facility in Jupiter, one that had proven to be a good move for Mrs. Doran. While she didn’t know us half the time, she looked comfortable, was extremely well cared for, and she seemed happy, which was a huge relief for Ginny—though I knew she still felt a tiny bit guilty. But I made sure she got to visit regularly and whenever the mood struck. Our frequent flyer miles built up like crazy with all of us traveling back and forth. My career had also really taken off after I won the US Open. But of course the pressure never lets up, and I was training harder than ever, eager to win more.
Life was so good and was only going to get better; I was about to marry the woman of my dreams, my best friend and soul mate. Call me sappy, but it was all true.
Drawing in a deep breath, I walked out of the room, my father waiting to follow close behind me as we entered the same church that he and Mom had gotten married in. The intimate sanctuary was packed, and I could see the familiar faces of Jacob and Luke in the crowd. Along with their wives, they were a group of friends that I couldn’t see myself without anymore.
The music started, and I turned my attention toward the aisle as the heavy wooden doors opened. Hesitation flickered across Nora’s four-year-old face as she stood at the top of the aisle. Her little hand clung to a basket filled with petals. Lucia bent down behind her and whispered something into her ear, no doubt urging the little flower girl on. But Nora shook her head.
I took a step forward and into a crouch, directly level with Nora. I grinned and waved “come here” with my hand. She beamed at me and started down the aisle. She managed to empty her basket of petals in record time, then ran the rest of the way into my arms.
“I thought you were going to stand me up,” I said and tickled her.
She shook her head. “I was scared.”
“You did so well; I’m so proud of you,” I said and held her in my arms as Lucia and Cara retraced Nora’s steps down the aisle. Before Lucia took Nora from me, Nora whispered in my ear, “Good luck.” I gave her a quick kiss on the cheek; she giggled and went willingly with her mom.
Then I looked up and back down the aisle. Ginny and her brother were stepping into the church. She was gorgeous, a vision in white, as they started down the aisle. My angel. Her eyes collided with mine, and I almost thought she was going to pull a Nora and start running towards me, too. I saw the love in her eyes as well as impatience. And I felt a wealth of emotion of my own. After all the waiting, the planning, it was about to be over. We’d be starting our lives as a married couple. Our flat in London was all ready for our arrival, as well as the house in Jupiter for when we visited. She had cried when I told her I bought a piece of property there. We’d always planned it that way, but I loved surprising her.
Ginny reached her position at the front before me and I gave her a wink, reaching for her hand. “You look gorgeous,” I whispered.
“I thought you were about to get married to someone else,” she said with a smile.
“Ah, Nora’s sweet and all, but you’re the only girl for me. I love you, Ginny Holden.”
“Hold your horses, lad. I haven’t started yet,” the officiate interrupted. We all laughed and I took Ginny’s hands.
“She’s already mine,” I said and sealed the sentiment by pulling her into a long kiss.
30
Epilogue - Damon
3 YEARS LATER
I hit the ball as hard as I could, frowning as it went into the net yet again. Derek had me working on a new serve to help against my upcoming left-handed opponent, but no matter what I tried, I couldn’t get the damn thing to do what I wanted it to. With the final looming on the horizon tomorrow, I couldn’t afford not to get the damn thing to work. Everyone, including my family and friends, would be watching me attempting to make history. I had to figure it out.
“Dada!”
Picking up the ball, I looked over to see Ginny and Max walking toward me. Ginny let him go and he ran towards me on chubby, unstable legs, with his arms out for me to pick him up. I scooped him up and planted raspberries on his belly. Max was nothing but joy in our lives, a rambunctious two-year-old who kept both of us on our toes. I loved every fucking moment of fatherhood, never knowing I could love another human being as much as I loved Ginny.
“Hey,” she said as she reached us. �
�Rough practice?”
I nodded and pulled her into a hug, the three of us. “I’m a little stressed, I guess.”
“Poor thing,” she said, rubbing my shoulder gently. “Maybe you need a break, Damon. A few days off after this?”
I shook my head, thinking I couldn’t very well stop now. I was on a roll. We were in London again, and I was aiming to do a Grand Slam. I’d already won the Australian and French Opens. Just two more left, Wimbledon and New York, before I could claim that title. “I need to play, I need to train,” I finally said.
She nodded as Max squirmed in my arms, forcing me to put him down. “We’re with you all the way. We believe in you.”
“Dada play,” Max said as he claimed a fuzzy tennis-ball. Two chubby hands were wrapped around it, offering it to me. “Play!” he demanded again.
I picked up my racket and motioned him to throw it to me. He threw it with as much force as he could, nearly ending up on his tush in the process. It bounced harmlessly on the court and I exaggerated a near miss, but managed to get my racket on it. Max laughed, and I handed him my racket, watching in amusement as he dragged it on the ground in his hands, swatting at stationary balls. Ginny had already caught me trying to teach Max the finer points of a serve one night when he couldn’t sleep, but I knew he was going to be a great tennis player someday, maybe better than his old man.
“You know I’m proud of you either way,” she said as Max started running around the court, dropping the racket with a clatter. I turned toward her, wondering if there would ever be a moment in my life when I would love her more than I did right then. Ginny was my biggest cheerleader, and when she couldn’t travel with me, she was always on my mind and only a video or phone call away. She and Max were my world, and I would do anything to make them happy.