Taylor Lunsford [Lunsford - Love. Set. Match.

Im sure Rob wont hold your pastsparring matches against you. I can certainly see why they hired him. Between his pedigree and good looks, he could be a big numbers boost for them. So much more attractive than Bruno with all that golden Ashton hair and those lean muscles. He wouldnt look out of place in one of Papas movies.

Emerson struggled to nod, the knot in her stomach dancing a polkaa really painful polka. Dera didnt know the truth about her history with Rob. No one did, not even her long-time coach, Zoe, or her grandma. Only her grandpa had known.

Dera was right about one thingRobs movie star looks made him an ideal candidate for the job. If she pushed through the crashing waves of anger and worry and hurt, she couldnt deny that the eye-candy factor was off the charts and ideal for a network more focused on gossip than the game. But that didnt make the situation any better for her.

Stepping onto the court tomorrow terrified her, more so now than it had when she woke this morning. Playing in her first tournament without Papa Vic broke her heart, but in the last few weeks shed found a way to push past her grief and focus on the game.

Love. Set. Match.

by

Taylor Lunsford

Match Set Series, Book 1

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

Love. Set. Match.

COPYRIGHT 2019 by Taylor Lunsford

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

Contact Information: info@thewildrosepress.com

Cover Art by Diana Carlile

The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

PO Box 708

Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708

Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com

Publishing History

First Champagne Rose Edition, 2019

Print ISBN 978-1-5092-2753-2

Digital ISBN 978-1-5092-2754-9

Match Set Series, Book 1

Published in the United States of America

Dedication

To Angela

for always geeking out with me

even if we have different favorite players

~

And to Andy Murray

for inspiring my love of tennis

Chapter 1

Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.

The hollow rhythm of the bright ball hitting the taut racket strings had haunted Rob Ashtons dreams for almost a year and a half. This time last year had been tough, but not this tough. At least then hed been alone in his apartment with copious amounts of alcohol and no cameras around to watch him wallow in self-pity.

Every year for twelve years, hed stood on the tennis courts surrounding him, ready for the first Grand Slamthe four most prestigious tennis tournamentsof a new season. Now, in the cool early morning as the sun started to stretch across the sky, he watched on the sidelines as the tournament came to life. Ball boys and girls scurried down the paths to their assigned courts. Line judges and referees moved at a more sedate pace, wearing their years of experience like a second skin. The stage production of the Australian Open was about to raise the curtains, and he was stuck in the audience for good.

But if the last eighteen months had taught him anything, it was that he couldnt stay away from tennis for too long, or hed go stark raving mad. He missed the adrenaline high of sitting in the locker room, preparing to step out there before the world in the first big tournament of the year. Someone who hadnt played the game didnt know how the anticipation and energy tugged at him until he thought hed jump out of his skin if he didnt grab his racket and wail on the ball for his first serve.

But all that was gone for him. Finished. The career hed worked for since age four, gone in a blink, and he was still trying to pick up the pieces.

Ah, the great Rob Ashton returns. I heard you were back, but I couldnt believe my best friend would take a job on a third-rate network like Tennis World Wide without telling me.

Rob turned. A tall Spaniard decked out in Adidas workout gear stood off to one side, his hazel eyes harder than the surface of the practice courts in front of them. Cruz Guerra, the number one Spanish player on the tour, nodded to the older man behind him, his uncle and long-time coach, waving him off. Estar all en un momento, to.

So on a scale of one to ten, how pissed are you? Rob didnt pull any punches because his friend wouldnt either. Theyd built their friendship on the bluntness of teenage boys away from parents, and that bluntness remained even as adults.

Cruzs jaw tightened. Seis o siete. Itd be higher, but you did have surgery and a long recovery, so I give you some grace.

Thats fair. Robs shoulders sagged, and he loosened his tie. I should have called. Im an asshole and a shitty friend.

Maybe. Ill reserve judgement on that until I hear what the hell you were thinking going to work for TWW. You could have been a coach or a lawyer or anything. Why a reporter? Cruz set down his travel mug of tea to pull out his racket and a spare ball. He bounced the ball, then tapped it with the racket, carefully controlling the balls motion. Youve got exactly fifteen minutes before Im scheduled on the practice court.

Coaching? With my shoulder? Besides, TWWs not that bad. Except for Bruno. He watched Cruz, a small twinge of envy ricocheting through him. Although hed gotten most of his strength back, he still struggled with gripping a racket for more than a few minutes, and he woke up every morning with a dull ache in his shoulder.

You could coach kids. Youd be amazing at it. And Bruno Watson spent all last season trying to convince the world that I was awhats the word?manwhore. Any woman who Id even smiled at after a match, he would try to get an interview with them. Cruz continued to tap the ball, dark eyes flashing with temper. Hes gone after Dera, Chessa, Owen, every top player, really, except for Naumov. That hijo de puta can do no wrong in Brunos eyes.

He opened his mouth to make a snarky comment when movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. He turned to watch a woman run past, her powerful legs telegraphing barely contained anger with every stride. Her ebony locks were shorter than he remembered and her skin more golden, but hed recognize that compactly curvy body anywhere.

Emerson Grace.

Itd been almost two years since hed seen Em in person, but hed thought about her every day. Hed thought about her and the unanswered questions and the what-ifs that plagued his nightmares for seven long years.

She must have seen Koles interview with Bruno from last night, Cruz commented, shaking his head in disgust. Still cant believe she dated him.

Nausea and rage mingled with the coffee Rob had hastily chugged down this morning before leaving his hotel room. Hed last seen the world number one when he faced the Serbian champ across the court at the US Open almost a year and a half ago. All it would have taken was one last point, and Rob would have won the title and the world number one ranking. Instead, all he won was blinding, gut-wrenching pain, a new shoulder, and a new career. And while he was recovering, Kole had apparently dated the one woman Rob thought he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

Kole and Emerson? Seriously? Whats a nice girl like her doing with a jackass like Naumov? Rob kept his words casual, not letting on what he really felt.