Page 16 of Serve (Men of Hidden Creek Season 1, #5)

Chapter Thirteen

Tyler- Monte Carlo

“This is the most amazing place I’ve ever seen in my life.”

Tyler’s smile grew as Chip gazed wide-eyed at the scenery.

Chip had never been to Europe, and they were ensconced in one of the most beautiful hotels in the world.

Monaco was a fantastic dream built on the Mediterranean, and exclusively entertained the top one percent.

While Tyler spent most of his time on the red clay tennis courts, Chip spent his days enjoying the shoreline and shops.

Thankfully he wasn’t a gambler, or the elegant casinos would have lured him in.

Monaco was a tiny principality next to the French Riviera.

It was home to the richest people in the world, because of its status as a tax haven.

The wealthy avoided paying taxes in their own countries by taking up residence here.

Tyler grew up in luxury, and was immune to its false promises.

For him it was dull and superficial. Seeing Chip’s reaction to it lifted his spirits in a way that renewed his tarnished love for this ancient principality.

“I’ve never seen water so blue.” Chip whispered.

They stood on the balcony of their hotel room, a salt-scented breeze blowing in from the Mediterranean.

Tyler was behind Chip, holding him while enjoying his reactions to the beauty before them.

The marina below their window held the largest and most luxurious yachts in the world.

Beautiful people strolled under the afternoon sun, tan skin and designer clothes as far as the eye could see.

Tyler placed his lips on Chip’s neck, the taste of his skin stirring his desire.

“It is nowhere near as beautiful as you.” Tyler said, then he blew gently in Chip’s ear, who pushed back against him, grinding his ass against Tyler’s growing cock.

“You have a way with words. Keep talking like that and you’ll get anything you want from me.” Chip turned in his arms, reaching up to kiss him, then heard a knock on the door. They both groaned.

“One of us needs to get that.” Tyler said.

“You think they’ll go away if we ignore them?” Chip whispered, kissing Tyler’s chin. Whoever was at the door was impatient, and knocked again, louder.

“I guess not.” Tyler said. Frustrated, he gently pushed Chip back, checked himself in the mirror and noticed his shirt was unbuttoned to the waist. He shook his head with a rueful smile, buttoned up, and opened the door. It was Emm, bouncing up and down with a huge smile.

“That Serbian guy, Miroslav, pulled out with an injury. You’re in the quarterfinals.” Emm said. Injuries were common, and while celebrating a walk-over win was in bad taste, Emm couldn’t keep her pleasure a secret. Tyler chuckled, and led her into the room.

“So I’m playing Tim? Shit. I’ve only beaten him once, and that was years ago.

” Timothy Bourne was a giant killer. Though he rarely ranked higher than forty in the world, he was capable of knocking out anyone, regardless of ranking.

His problem was consistency. He had a hard time maintaining that level of play every single match.

He was one of a handful of players on tour who had a winning record against him.

“Yep, and that’s why you and I are hitting the practice courts.” Emm said, then snuck a peek at Chip. He turned and faced the window, but his slumped shoulders were a dead giveaway to his emotional state. She looked at Tyler, and mouthed the word “sorry.”

“Are you sure practicing will help? Especially now that I’m playing more aggressively? I’ll be honest, I’m having a hard time not slipping back into my old tactics of grinding them down. I feel like that…”

“Grinding is how you win on clay. If you want to win on grass, you have to get used to taking charge of the point and finishing it quickly.” Emm interrupted him.

She understood his frustration. His natural style was tailor made for winning on slower clay courts.

It was hard to deliberately change a winning strategy to achieve long-term goals while losing matches you’d ordinarily win.

She stood and placed her arm on his back, rubbing his shoulders.

“I don’t want you to lose. I want you to learn how to win using a new technique. It’s hard, but doable. I’m going to head to the practice courts. I’ll see you in a few.” She let herself out.

Tyler walked up behind Chip and encircled his waist, pulling him against his chest.

“I’m sorry, but I have to go.” He said.

“I know. I guess I’m just sick of being in the room all the time.” Chip sighed.

“Go shopping, or work on your tan. I’m sorry I can’t be with you, but this is my job. I have to work. Trust me, I’d much rather be with you.” Tyler whispered in his ear.

“I’ll figure out something. Do you know when you’ll be back?” Chip asked.

“Won’t be more than three hours. Overtraining during a tournament is a big no-no.” He turned Chip to face him, then pressed his lips against his. After a minute, Chip placed his hands on Tyler’s chest and pushed him away.

“If you don’t get out now, you’re never getting out.” He grabbed Tyler’s hand and placed it on his growing erection. Tyler laughed and gently squeezed.

“Leave that alone. I’ll be taking care of it for you when I return.”

“How are things at command central, Dixie?” Tyler said into the phone. He was being driven to the tennis courts by the hotel’s driver.

“My prayer group is coming over for an orgy tomorrow, will that be okay?” She said nonchalantly.

Tyler laughed. “No problem, just be sure to clean up after them. Your nephew is figuring out how boring life is camping out in hotel rooms.” He said.

“The one and only time I went on tour with you was my last time. Poor baby, it’s lonely on the road.” She sighed.

“I’m going to have to hang up in a second. Do you remember what we talked about yesterday?” Tyler grabbed the bag with his tennis rackets and gear as they pulled into the parking lot of the club.

“Yeah, I remember. Want me to set it up?” She said.

“Yes, and if you could get it a couple of days earlier than we discussed, that would be great.”

“Damn, I wish I was thirty years younger and had…” Tyler heard her mumble as she hung up. He shook his head and laughed, then headed for the practice courts.

“Out!” The linesman behind him called as Tim’s serve went wide.

He’d been serving up aces throughout the match, and Tyler’s return game was off.

He looked up to the player’s box where Emm and Chip were seated.

Chip’s tan was deeper from the Mediterranean sun, accentuated by the white polo shirt he wore.

“Out!” Tim double faulted, and Tyler shook his head. He’d got lucky that time. He had to pay more attention to this match if he didn’t want to lose it in straight sets.

He glanced down at his shoes, stained a dirty orange by the clay court.

Actually, his whole body had red dirt clinging to it from the three different dives he’d taken to retrieve junk balls hit by Tim.

He hadn’t been so physically involved in a match in years.

Players might hate playing Timothy, because of his eccentric tactics, but Tyler found it rejuvenating.

If only he wouldn’t be bounced out of the tournament by losing to him, he could enjoy it more.

So far he was up a break in the second set, having lost the first. If he didn’t manage to win this second set, he’d be sent packing from the tournament.

He dug in his heels and won the next three games

When he was serving for the second set he looked up to his player box and noticed something unusual. Three rows behind Emm and Chip sat Scott Turner. He had no reason for being there. His player wasn’t in the tournament.

“What the fuck?” He said aloud. The umpire gave him a reproachful look.

He shook his head, then double faulted on his serve.

Missing your serve twice in a row meant losing the point, and Timothy was officially back in the set.

If he wanted to win the match, he’d have to put Scott out of his mind.

An impossible task, he soon discovered. Minutes later he congratulated Timothy at the net, gathered his things, and headed for the locker room.

Five hours later, he finally let himself into the hotel room and fell back on the bed exhausted.

Chip was seated in a corner, his face in shadow. He stood, crossed the room, and sat next to Tyler. He placed a hand on his chest, then lay down next to him.

“You okay? I was worried.” Chip murmured.

“I’m fine. It’s part of getting older. I have to spend more time recovering from matches, especially tough ones. I took an ice bath, got a massage, then I had to speak to the press.”

“Why the hell do you have to do that? I mean, you lost. Who the hell would want to give a press conference after that?” Chip asked, incredulous.

“It’s in the rulebook. If I don’t participate in a Q&A with the press, I have to pay a hefty fine. I have no choice.” He sighed, kissed Chip’s forehead and sat up. “Did you do anything fun today?”

“I lay out by the pool, but otherwise nothing. I don’t know anyone, so, you know, I just hung out here watching TV. Most of it’s in French though, so I couldn’t understand it. What’s it like taking an ice bath? Are you really in a tub full of ice?”

“It’s very, very cold, but after about five minutes it feels good. If I didn’t take it, I’d barely be able to walk right now.”

Tyler’s phone rang. He dug through his bag until he found it.

“Hey, Emm. What’s up?” He said, then a smile spread across his face.

“You might as well. I think we’re going to hit the road in a few minutes. No use sticking around here. Oh, did you find out anything about Scott?” He said.

Chip’s eyes grew wide. Tyler smiled and mussed his hair, still listening to Emm on the phone.

“Enjoy yourself, and I’ll see you in a couple of weeks.” He disconnected the call, then turned and faced Chip.

“Is she going somewhere? I thought we were going to the next tournament after this?” He asked.

“Emm is meeting Tina in Barcelona, her hometown. They’re spending a couple of weeks with her family.” He went to the closet and pulled their empty bags out and placed them on the bed.

“So, what are we doing? Weren’t we supposed to be going to Barcelona too? What’s going on with Scott?”

“There’s been a change in plans. Scott showed up, was seated just a couple of places behind you and Emm in fact.

I have no idea what he’s up to, and right now I don’t care.

We’ve got to get out of here. Places to see, that sort of thing.

” He chuckled, then started throwing clothes in the bags.

Chip stood, grabbed him by the shoulders.

“What’s going on? Where are we going?”

Tyler pecked him on the lips.

“It’s a surprise.”