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

Chapter Five

Tyler

“Would you like me to give a statement to the press? I will, but it will only fuel speculation if you don’t appear yourself.

” Sania stated, a flicker of annoyance noticeable in her dark eyes.

Tyler was thankful for her presence, even if she was being testy.

She’d flown into town the morning after the accident.

He was operating on little sleep, and was unsure of his words.

“No, Sania, I agree with you. I think the whole thing is stupid though. They won’t ask about the accident, or if they do, it will be minimal.

It’s going to be about the retirement issue.

” He sighed, wanting to disappear, and never address the issue at all.

If he wanted to play, couldn’t he just show up at a tournament with his racket?

“Yes, and you need to be prepared. The time has come for you to decide. Are you going to resume playing, or will you move on to other things?” She’d taken over his home office, and he was uncomfortable sitting on the wrong side of his desk.

He didn’t have an answer yet, but knew the moment had come.

“When’s the press conference?” He murmured.

“Tomorrow at noon. We’ve rented a conference room at the Sheraton. I’m staying there, so I can manage things for us.” She said.

“Fine. I’ll give you an answer tomorrow morning.”

“But, I need to…” Sania spluttered, impatience showing on her normally composed face.

“That’s enough, Sania. You’re getting the answer when I’m ready to make it. If you don’t like it, you can leave.” He sighed, then pushed himself up from the chair. Tyler knew how uncomfortable she must be, because he was too. He held the door to his office open and ushered her out.

“Dixie, what’s wrong?” Tyler asked. Of all days for her to be sick, today was not a good one.

“Hell if I know, but don’t worry, I’m still here. What do you need?” She’d been coughing and wheezing all morning.

“I spoke with Grant. He said he can fit me in at four. I was hoping you could give me a ride to Houston, but that’s out of the question.

You sound awful.” He felt much better today, aside from his sore ribs.

The pressure to make up his mind about his retirement was exhausting.

He needed to talk to his psychologist before deciding.

“I can do it!” She exclaimed, then a coughing fit ensued. When she was done, he spoke.

“You sound like hell. The answer is no. Shit, I can’t even rent a car.

The press might find out and tail me.” Tyler stood, his ribs protesting the sudden movement.

He wrapped his arms around his chest and groaned.

The ironic thing was, he’d won dozens of cars throughout his career.

He always sold them for cash immediately after the tournament.

He was rarely home, so what was the point of having more than one?

“Let’s see what I can do, all right, sugar? I have an idea.” Dixie whispered, her voice nearly gone. She got her phone out and went to work.

Tyler walked out the sliding glass doors, stood on the deck, and looked up at the sky.

Several minutes passed while he calmed himself down using the same deep breathing technique he did before important matches.

A door slammed, and he jumped to his feet, wincing from his bruised ribs.

He went inside and found Chip speaking with his aunt.

“No, it’s my day off, I don’t mind doing it, I swear.” Chip said, then grinned at Tyler. “Looks like I’m driving you around today. I even brought an extra hat. You ready?”

“Thanks for getting me out of the house. I was losing my mind.” Tyler said as Chip slid into the front seat. The truck was idled in the parking lot of a coffee shop.

“Well, I’m sure it would have been easier if you’d been able to ride in the front seat. You feeling okay?” Chip asked, placing their cups in the holder between them.

When Chip arrived, he admitted to seeing strange cars parked near the house. Tricking the reporters, Tyler had hidden in the back seat under a canvas tarp. As soon as they arrived at the coffee shop, he’d gotten into the front, careful to keep his head down.

“Honestly, I’m feeling better just being free of those damned reporters for a few hours.” He put the cowboy hat Chip had loaned him on, and pulled the front of it down over his forehead.

Chip pulled out of the parking lot, while Tyler reveled in the unexpected freedom.

Living in a small town usually gave him the anonymity that he craved.

Most people knew who he was, but they weren’t going to bug him about it.

That was why he liked it here so much. It was one of the few places he could live a semi-normal life.

The reporters parked outside of his house were ruining it.

“So where are you from, Tyler? You don’t sound like you’re from these parts.” Chip sped up as they exited on to the interstate.

“A little town outside of Washington D.C. called The Plains. I haven’t been there in years, though. It’s where I grew up, but it’s not home, if you know what I mean.” He rarely thought of his hometown. The Plains was beautiful, but his memories of it weren’t.

“I grew up in Houston, but ever since, well, Aunt Dixie told you about my parents. I don’t like going into the city anymore. So, are your folks there? Have you talked to them about all this stuff?” Chip asked.

Tyler winced. He didn’t realize driving him to Houston might be upsetting for Chip. He normally avoided speaking about his folks, but something in Chip’s voice made him want to talk.

“I don’t have a relationship with them.” He muttered, shaking his head.

Silence ensued. Tyler struggled to find the right words and found none. Small talk would not work with Chip. He’d been there for him, and didn’t deserve the brush off.

“Sorry, that was abrupt. My parents, they weren’t very good at their job, at least from my perspective.

They sent me to boarding school for my first few years, then shipped me off to a tennis academy in Florida when I showed some talent.

Once I became a success, they wanted to be part of my life.

They’d drag me around to country clubs and parties to show me off.

Finally, I put my foot down and refused.

They weren’t bothered by my wanting nothing to do with them.

My brother is in the family business, so they’ve latched on to him instead. ”

“What kind of business?” Chip asked.

“Politics, charities, that sort of thing. Being seen at all the right places, while doing a whole lot of nothing.” The words tasted bitter in his mouth.

What he didn’t mention was that his conservative, rich parents were another reason he stayed in the closet.

A bizarre sense of obligation to people he had nothing to do with.

“You know, I’ve talked to Dixie about this, but since I’ve never had the chance, I’ll tell you, too. I mean, it’s about you, so…” Tyler fumbled with his words, then spat out what he wanted to say.

“What you went through would have destroyed most people. Having your folks taken from you the way they were, well, I admire your strength. Dixie raised you right.” Tyler hoped he didn’t mess that up.

When Chip’s parents were murdered in a robbery, Tyler was away on tour.

He’d spent hours on the phone with Dixie, consoling her over the loss of her brother and his wife.

She and Sue had taken Chip in and raised him.

Chip reached over and squeezed Tyler’s hand. Their eyes met for a brief second, and Tyler had to look away. Chip switched on the radio, and they spent the rest of the drive listening to talk radio and sad country songs.

Tyler took the cowboy hat he’d been wearing and placed it on the seat between them. He’d been unable to speak since he’d left Grant’s office. They’d spent the first part of the ride in silence, but Chip finally broke the ice.

“If you don’t want to answer, just tell me to shut up.

” He paused, giving Tyler enough time to refuse.

When he remained silent, Chip spoke again.

“Did you make a decision? You going to retire and become a normal person again?” Chip flushed, embarrassed to ask such a personal question.

The change in his skin color fascinated Tyler, and how it brought out the blue in his eyes.

He forgot about the question for a moment, then remembered to reply.

“Nope, as much as I’d like to hang up my racket, I can’t. Most players retire at my age, but aside from my bruised ribs and ego, I’m in perfect health. Doctor says I can resume practice in a few days.” Tyler sighed and looked out the window, staring at the barren landscape.

“You don’t seem thrilled about it.”

“It’s hard to explain. On the surface, I have everything.

Money, fame, a fabulous house, you know, the American Dream, but the only time I’m happy is when I’m on the tennis court.

Wait, let me take that back. The only time I’m really, truly happy are those few seconds right after I win a match.

Everyone I know gets to be themselves twenty-four seven, while the only time I can is when I’m playing.

I’m not ready to give it up. Playing tennis is the only way I feel free to be myself.

” It took half his session with Grant to articulate his feelings.

The other half he spent wondering how he was going to keep the closet door shut.

“Sometimes you have to take risks.” Chip stated, then he turned on to their exit.

“Yeah, you do. Life is short, and you never know when everything you love will disappear.” Tyler couldn’t stop staring at Chip.

His intense blue eyes fascinated him. The wavy blond hair poking out from beneath his hat was thick, and he imagined how it would feel slipping between his fingers.

Could Dixie’s nephew be gay? Knowing his luck, definitely not.

This was a distraction. He knew that. Thoughts of Chip in his arms made him cross his legs and place his hands over his lap.

His sex life was practically non-existent, with only the occasional, anonymous partner he’d pick up while on tour.

What made Chip even sexier wasn’t his looks, it was his attitude and his generous smile.

He’d definitely have to keep his distance, especially with his aunt being so central to the running of his life.

Mixing business and pleasure was never a bright idea.

With relief, he spied his street coming up.

His nerves were shot, and he wanted nothing more than to hide in bed and forget about tomorrow’s news conference.

If only Chip could be persuaded to join him under the blankets.

When the truck parked in front of his house, he was prepared to bolt, not wanting to give in to temptation.

Knowing his luck, Chip was straight, and he didn’t want to be humiliated.

“Well, here we are.” Chip hopped out of the truck.

Tyler’s eyes followed the younger man’s round ass as he walked toward the house.

Beads of sweat collected on his upper lip, and he wiped them away with the back of his hand.

He unlocked the door and eased himself down to the pavement.

Chip was already at the front door, waiting.

He opened it and had stepped one foot inside when he felt Chip’s hand on his arm.

He turned to see what he wanted and felt Chip’s strong arms pulling him into his body.

His heart raced, and time stopped as Chip’s lips came down on his.

They were soft, yet firm. It had been so long since he’d kissed anyone.

He placed one trembling hand on Chip’s cheek, and with the other, he gently pushed him back.

That was the rational part of his brain in action, but his heart made him nibble on Chip’s full lips instead.

Chip responded with a groan, and pulled him in tighter, until Tyler didn’t have a choice but to stop pushing him away, and surrender to the moment.

Seconds later, Chip stepped back. His eyes were wild, and his hands pushed Tyler from him. He fell against the door frame, his ribs on fire from the embrace.

“I’m sorry.” Chip muttered and ran back to his truck.

‘What the hell just happened?’ Tyler asked himself, then looked up and saw Chip staring back at him through the windshield.

Tears streamed down the younger man’s face.

The truck backed down the driveway, almost to the street, then abruptly stopped.

Chip drove the truck back up the driveway, jumped out of the vehicle and jogged toward him.

He kicked the pavement with his boot, then looked toward Tyler, but was unable to meet his gaze.

“I’ve never kissed a man before. I know there’s nothing wrong with it, but I’m afraid.” He stopped a foot away from Tyler and looked at the ground. “I’m sorry, that was a shitty thing to do, running away like that.”

Tyler stepped forward, hoping all of the reporters were gone. He’d seen none as they drove in, and felt guilty even worrying about it. Then, he took Chip’s arm and led him into the house.