“Definitely.” She started ticking off other priorities. “Then there’s this initiative I want to propose that involves the school nurse. We have free and reduced-price meals, of course, but kids still come to her with headaches and stomachaches because they’re hungry, and I’d like to give her enough money to stock food for—”
“Wait a minute.” He held up a hand. “Your initiatives are great. And at some point, I want to listen to every single one of your ideas in detail. But maybe not right this second.”
She offered him a sheepish smile. “Sorry. I get a little carried away sometimes.”
“For good reason.” There wasn’t an ounce of impatience in his voice. Just calmness and interest. “I still want to know why you’re working on those initiatives now, instead of when you return home.”
“That’s easy. Because there’s no time for anything but triage once the school year starts. Big ideas are best incubated during the summer.” She waggled a chiding finger at him. “Also, don’t think I didn’t notice what just happened here. You got two questions answered, maybe three. Get ready for payback, Karlsson.”
Tucking his racket beneath his arm, he strode to the net and leaned into it with both hands. “To quote a true visionary: Bring it on, Dunn.”
“Truth or dare?” She didn’t care which he chose. Either option sounded as delicious as those strawberry-lemonade cupcakes.
He paused to think. “Truth.”
“Hmmm.” After a moment of consideration, she decided to start serious and shift to sexy later, as desired. “How many long-term relationships have you had?”
“Uh…” His brow pinched, and all hints of mirth disappeared. “Are we including familial relationships? Or friendships?”
After laying her racket carefully on the court, she propped her fists on her hips. “Nope.”
“Would a month count as long-term? If you and your partner were only in the same place for a week during that month, because of your conflicting schedules?”
Her eyebrow did the talking for her.
His shoulders drooped in response. “I joined the ATP Tour as a teenager, Tess. And here’s the thing: When you’re a professional tennis player, you’re on the road almost continually. If you tend to make it far in tournaments, you may not get home for weeks or even months at a time.”
“Why not date a fellow player, then?”
She tried not to picture it. Two athletes, young and toned and capable, arms around one another as they celebrated their victories and shared secrets only other tennis pros would understand.
“If I’d dated a WTA player, we’d still have had trouble connecting. A lot of tournaments are at venues too small for men and women to play at the same time. And when you’re not competing, you’re practicing. Or, in my case, recovering from injuries and doing constant, intensive physical therapy.” In a seemingly absent gesture, he looked down and rotated his wrists, as if testing whether they still hurt. “There was no time to nurture anything more serious than a casual arrangement, and it got lonely sometimes.Igot lonely sometimes, even though I had my team around me almost constantly.”
His voice was low. Vulnerable, in a way she wanted to honor.
“I’m sorry, Lucas.” She came to the net and laid her hand on his. “That sounds like a hard, unforgiving life.”
He acknowledged that with a slight jerk of his head. “Don’t get me wrong. I loved tennis. Loved my team. Loved seeing so much of the world. But I didn’t feel good about starting anything serious with anyone when I had so little time and energy to give to a relationship. So the answer to your question is zero. I’ve had zero serious romantic relationships. To this point.”
The last phrase, he stated with emphasis. Eye contact. Determination.
He wanted her. She doubted everything else, but not that.
Still. He’d never committed to a woman. Not once. And she was supposed to believe that he wouldn’t hurt her? That a woman like her could keep a man like him happy long-term?
A fling, Tess. This doesn’t need to be more than a fling.
If she believed everything he was telling her, though, he wanted more than that. Not just her body, but her trust. Maybe her heart.
She needed some outlet for all the emotion roiling within her. Picking up her racket again, she pointed it toward him. “I’m ready to keep playing.”
He looked at her for a long moment before backing up from the net and hitting the ball in a gentle arc to her side.
“So…” She hit it back. Hard. This time, it whizzed over the net, and he had to rush to get it. “I think we’re even. I asked you two questions. Your turn.”
“All right, then,” he said, slightly breathless. “Truth or dare?”
He’d still managed to hit the ball directly to her, and she sent it back with an easy swing from her shoulder. “Truth.”
