For luck—Alex
Slowly, she pulled the bow free, but she paused before opening it. It was definitely jewelry, probably a necklace, from the shape of the box. Why would he send her jewelry? Was he apologizing for his near-total silence for the last couple of days? No. She had to stop overanalyzing everything and open the gift.
“Wow,” Indy said from over her shoulder. “So, I guess he doesn’t hate you.”
“It’s perfect,” Penny said, running a fingertip over the old British coin attached to the long chain. It was a 1936 penny, minted the same year Fred Perry won Wimbledon, the last English man to do so before Alex. It was exactly what she would have picked out for herself, except that she wouldn’t have thought of it in a million years. The gift was beyond thoughtful. It wasn’t some expensive, shiny object, but represented both of them. Still, having him with her was what she really wanted.
“You’re going to wear it to the gala tonight, right?” Indy asked. “If you don’t, I will.”
“It’s apennynecklace, Indy. I don’t think people will get it if you wear it.”
“Ha! The paparazzi would probably make up some story about me ripping it off your neck and stealing Alex away from you. Caroline would love that. Think of the buzz that would stir up.” Indy looked back at the necklace. “God, it’s the most perfect gift I have ever seen. You two are just—you kind of make me want to vomit.”
“Love you, too,” Penny said, checking her phone. No messages.
Where was he?
Should she text him?
Just to say thank you?
Or wait to do it in person?
In person. That was better and she needed to stop obsessing.
She’d see him later, at the gala.
“How was your flight?”
Indy tossed herself back onto the bed and let out a long-suffering sigh. “Jasmine didn’t speak to me the entire trip here. How do you think it was?”
“You can’t take all that negative energy out onto the court. You guys will get destroyed.”
“Don’t sugarcoat it or anything.” Indy stretched her neck and groaned. “I’m working on it, promise.”
“Good, but for now I think I have something that’ll cheer you up,” Penny said, grabbing her phone and texting Jack. “The dresses will be here in fifteen minutes.”
Penny couldn’t help but admire the dress she’d chosen for the players’ gala. Strapless taupe silk embellished with beading at the waist and hem, it gave her a chicer look than her usual style. She bent her arm back, gave the zipper one last tug, and it slid into place.
“There,” she said, turning and twisting in the mirror. Perfect.
A knock sounded and she moved to open the door. “Indy, hurry up,” she called toward the bathroom. “We’ve only got like…”
When she opened the door, he was there. Penny bit herlip, trying to stop her grin at the sight of him, hair still damp from the probable mad dash from the car into the hotel, his bags dropped at his feet, a hand supporting him against the doorframe, head ducked before he looked up at her, his eyes already burning into hers from beneath his furrowed brow.
It was a losing battle, and as soon as her mouth curved into a soft smile, he reached out with his free arm and pulled her in, bracing her back against the doorframe and bending his head to her.
The kiss was hot and deep and all-consuming, and his hands buried into her hair, totally ruining the silky curls she’d meticulously arranged. Penny didn’t care as she curled her leg around his calf, pulling him even closer.
Ignoring the pointed throat clearing from behind them, likely Indy emerging from the bathroom, Penny pulled away, then kissed him lightly one more time as Indy’s gagging noises faded back into the bathroom. They finally moved out of the hallway and let the hotel room door close behind them.
“You got the necklace.” His hand came up to where the coin rested against her skin, just above the neckline of her dress, rising and falling with every breath she took. “Do you like it?”
“I love it.”
“I’ve had it with me during every Grand Slam I’ve ever played in and I wanted you to have it.” She leaned forward again to kiss him, but he rested his forehead against hers, stopping her. “I’m sorry about how I left things between us,” he murmured against her lips. “I couldn’t figure out away to say that over the phone, so I thought this might do it for me.”
If he kept this up, all of her lingering doubts would be long gone in no time. This was how it needed to be, them talking things out, not stressing over silly misunderstandings when their minds needed to be on the court. “You thought right. It’s perfect. That doesn’t mean I’m not going to worry about your knee, though, okay?”
