Free Losing at Love by Jennifer Iacopelli

pressed a sweaty kiss on her cheek but didn’t pull away. He hovered for a moment and let his breath slide over her skin.
    “Visualizing, hmm? What’s been going through that pretty head of yours, love?”
    Penny turned so her lips were just a hair’s breadth away from his. “Well, I was thinking about tennis, but now that you mention it…” she trailed off and was about to close the space between them when a catcall made them both jump and pull apart.
    “Are we training or not, lover boy?” Paolo called from the court, whacking a ball in their direction.
    Alex caught it deftly and stood, grinning, a hand running over his head, sifting through his hair. “Duty calls. Check out my slice serve, would you?” he asked.
    “Yeah.”
    He jogged out to the court and Penny leaned back in her seat with a sigh, settling in to watch. She slipped the walking boot off her foot and the ballet flat off the other before stretching her legs out in the sun. She tried to keep her eyes on him, to check out his slice serve and see what was giving him an issue, but the warmth of the day and the steady rhythm of the ball soon had her eyes drifting closed again. Her opponent was Zina Lutrova this time, like in France, and on grass, Lutrova’s game would be even more formidable, the speed of her serve and groundstrokes amped up by the fast surface. Beating her on clay was one thing, but beating her on grass to win Wimbledon, that would be something else entirely.
    ~
    Alex’s match that afternoon wasn’t much of a challenge. A win, 6-3, 6-4 without need of a third deciding set had them finished at the tournament well before their dinner reservation that night.
    “You played well,” Penny said, sliding into the back of the car service that would drive them home from the courts.
    “No thanks to you,” he quipped. “My slice was crap.”
    “Your slice was fine. I’ve never been a good coach anyway.” She sighed as he lifted her feet and deposited them in his lap, unclasping the boot and letting it fall to the floor of the car. His thumbs massaged the area gently.
    “How’s that feel?”
    Just a few days ago, that area had been extremely sensitive to the touch, the slightest pressure sending spikes of pain through her leg. Now it had faded to almost nothing upon contact and actually felt good, hovering over that borderline between pleasure and pain.
    She moaned, leaning her head back against the car window and sliding closer to him as his hands trailed up from her ankles over her calves. “You just played; shouldn’t I be giving you the massage?”
    “Make it up to me later,” he murmured as his fingers slipped beneath the skirt of her dress, grazing the inside of her thighs just as the car pulled to a stop in front of his house. The driver’s eyes widened in the rear view mirror as they straightened themselves quickly, Penny grabbing her shoe and boot, Alex opening the door and then helping her out. The driver retrieved his bags from the trunk and then sped off into the night.
    “I think we shocked him a bit.”
    Penny laughed as they climbed the stairs and he unlocked the door. “I’m sure he’s seen worse.”
    “Look at that,” he said as they climbed the stairs.
    “What?” she asked, looking around, seeing nothing but the white townhomes and tree-lined gardens of his street.
    “You’re not limping.”
    She glanced down at her feet and smiled. There was only a twinge of pain, nothing crazy, so small she’d barely noticed it as she walked up to the house. Putting all her weight on her good foot, she rotated the ankle. “Feels okay.”
    Alex slung his bag across his back and then swooped in, pulling her into his arms, bridal style, her shriek echoing down the nearly silent street. “Let’s keep it that way, shall we? The rest must be doing it good.”
    “Or you have magical healing powers in your hands.”
    “I’ve been saying that for years and finally I’ve found a girl who believes me.”
    Kicking the door