Tally stuck her head down the toilet and heaved. With nothing left in her stomach, all she did was bring up foul-tasting bile. This wasn’t morning sickness—she was well past that. No, her nausea was caused by nerves. Since she’d persuaded Cash to return to tennis after nine months out, she was terrified of what it would do to his re-emerging confidence if things didn’t go well.

She’d been so happy to see him on court again. Even watching him practice had given her the tingles, and his improvement over the last four weeks had been nothing short of miraculous. When he completed his final practice session the previous night, she almost forgot he’d been out of the game for so long. His ranking might have been low, but that was only because he hadn’t played competitively for so long. It didn’t mean his talent was gone.

His talent was very much present.

Tally flushed the toilet and wiped her mouth with some tissue. She dug around in her bag and found a packet of mints. She slipped one in her mouth, fixed her hair, and headed outside.

She found Brad pacing and rubbing the back of his neck so hard he’d probably taken the skin off. He spun around when the door clicked shut, and gave her a worried smile.

“Are you okay?” He held out a bottle of water. “You look terribly green. Shall I get Cash?”

Tally patted his arm. “I’m fine. No need to bother Cash with this, right, Brad?” She twisted the cap off the water and took a sip.

His eyebrows pinched together. “I don’t know. He’ll bloody kill me if anything happens to you or the baby.”

“Nothing is going to happen to either of us.” She sighed and rubbed her forehead. “I’m nervous for him, that’s all. I puked because I’m shit scared.”

Brad put his arms around her. His solid frame felt so good, and she leaned on him, absorbing his emotional as much as physical support.

“He’s going to be fine. I’m so glad I could spare the time to help him back on his feet. He’s playing great, Tally, especially considering how long he’s been out. One step at a time. Agreed?”

She nodded. “Agreed.”

“Right, I gotta go get our boy. You okay finding your way courtside?”

“No problem. I’ll see you shortly.”

As Brad walked in the direction of the locker room, Tally headed outside and slid into her seat. She dropped her sunglasses in place and glanced around the court. Day one of a two-fifty tournament would usually see the stadium a third full, especially for the early game.

But not that day. The stadium was packed, the crowd buzzing—an energy driven, no doubt, by Cash’s first appearance at a tournament in almost ten months.

The crowd began cheering. Tally fixed her eyes on Cash as he walked onto court. She fidgeted in her seat, and nervous tension bit at her insides, but as she watched him go through his familiar set-up routine, a crumb of hope bubbled up inside.

He had to do well.

“You okay?” Brad slipped into the seat next to her. “You’re still a bit green.”

“I’m so glad you’re here,” she said, squeezing his hand.

“Me too. He’s got this.”

Tally nodded in direct contradiction to how she felt inside. She didn’t know whether to chew the inside of her cheek or nibble on her fingernails. The baby was doing cartwheels in her belly, no doubt picking up on her anxiety. She rubbed her bump in an attempt to calm both the baby and herself.

Cash removed a racket from his bag and glanced up at the players' box. The wink he gave her was brief, but she caught it all the same. It was his way of telling her he was okay. She blew out a heavy breath and steeled herself for what was to come.

In the first set, Cash made too many unforced errors, and it went to a tiebreak, which he lost seven points to two. Tally’s nervousness increased. She jiggled her knees until Brad laid a hand on them, stilling her.

“Relax. This isn’t good for you or the baby.”

“He has to win. He has to win,” she muttered under her breath as Cash got ready for set two. He tossed his racket into his left hand and flexed the fingers on his right.

“He’s struggling with his hand,” she whispered to Brad. “Maybe this was too soon.”

“It’s bound to be a bit sore. He’s been on court a lot these past few weeks, and playing a match will be more intense than any practice session. Stop worrying. He’s tough.”

Cash stepped it up in the second set, and when he won it six–four, Tally leaped to her feet. Their eyes met, and she smiled tentatively. He winked again, more obviously this time. It was exactly what she needed, and a calm settled over her as she retook her seat.

Cash made no mistakes in the third set, and his confidence grew with every hit of the ball. He trounced his opponent six games to one. He’d won. The crowd went crazy, Cash clearly the favourite. As Tally watched him sign balls and toss them into the crowd, he might never have been away. Relief wasn’t a strong enough word to describe her feelings as Brad led her off court.

* * *

Cash was in a playful mood when they arrived back at the hotel. It appeared she wasn’t the only one relieved at getting that first match out of the way.

“I thought you were going to be sick when I lost that first set.” He flopped onto the bed.

Tally hung her bag over the back of a chair. “I did puke before the match. Brad nearly had a heart attack.”

Cash sat upright, a deep frown pulling his eyebrows together. “He never said anything. Are you okay?” He held out his arms, beckoning her over.

“I’m fine. I asked Brad not to say anything. You didn’t exactly need the worry before the match.”

Cash tugged her down beside him. “It’s my job to worry about you and this little one.” He laid his hand across her stomach.

Tally rolled her eyes. “Come on, ace. Don’t go all caveman on me.”

Cash moved so quickly Tally barely had time to think before she found herself beneath him, his legs and arms caging her.

“Are you taunting me, McKenzie?”

Tally grinned. “You make it so easy.”

Cash arched an eyebrow. “Payback time.” He began to tickle her, and she giggled and writhed beneath him, but as quickly as he’d started, he stopped. He drew back and studied her face, his expression sombre.

“What’s the matter?”

“I can’t lose you again,” he said, his voice tinged with fear and sorrow.

Tally reached up and cradled his face, lightly scraping her fingertips through his beard. “You’re not going to lose me. We’ve had our share of bad luck, ace. We have so much to look forward to.” She dropped one hand and placed it over her stomach.

Cash settled his hand over hers. “You’re right. We do.”