Love's Not Terrifying
Elizabeth Lennox - The Attracelli Family #5 - Love's Not Terrifying
Love's Not Terrifying (The Attracelli Family #5)
“Wow!” Gus Attracelli caught a movement out of the corner of his eye and walked across the club house deck to get a better view. He craned his neck to get a better look, straining to see the tennis court through the trees. Gus was just as impressed with the volley as he was with the incredibly long, sexy legs displayed by the mystery woman’s saucy tennis outfit. He liked the way it swung around her upper thighs, teasing and showing hopeful possibilities but never revealing anything.
He ignored the heat of the late afternoon sun beating down onto the deck where he was standing in order to get another view of the woman. Unfortunately, just as suddenly as the vision with sexy legs came into his line of sight, she disappeared behind the perfectly manicured bushes that lined the tennis courts of the exclusive country club.
He leaned over the railing to catch another glimpse of her but she had run out of his line of site. The sun glared into his eyes but he ignored the inconvenience, putting up a hand to block out the rays. All his concentration was on getting another look at the fantastic pair of legs.
When she didn’t immediately jog back into sight, he became impatient. “Where the hell did she go?” he muttered to himself. In the distance, someone was mowing the grass and the engine created a soft hum against the sultry summer afternoon. In the back of his mind, he noted the smell of the chlorine from the pool but since the kids were still in school for a few more weeks, there wasn’t any sound coming from that direction. All was basically quiet except for the repetitive sound of a ball machine lobbing tennis balls across the tennis court and then, moments later, the woman’s tennis racket hitting the ball.
Abruptly, she was back in his line of sight. She popped back and swung her tennis racket hard at the incoming ball, thwacking it with a mighty hit. Gus imagined the perspiration forming on her forehead as she raced across the tennis court to catch the next ball being lobbed over the net.
Gus wiped his brow and looked behind him, feeling like a voyeur but unable to turn away and allow the lovely lady her privacy. He was spellbound. Again, she chased after a ball that went to the left side of the tennis court. “Where did she go?” he murmured again, leaning over the railing and craning his neck to catch another glimpse.
He almost jumped back when she burst back into his view, then looked around to see if anyone had noticed, slightly embarrassed at his reaction. The woman with the long legs and long, blond hair, was at least five hundred feet away from him. He probably looked ridiculous jumping back from someone so far away.
His concern over being observed was ignored when she bent over to catch a low ball and he was treated to her pert derriere. “Lady, you’re a gentleman’s nightmare,” he muttered, but didn’t take his eyes off her sexy figure.
The woman raced to the edge of the tennis court to return the ball and Gus leaned against the rail to the decking in order to get a better view. He was impressed when she returned the volley and grateful when she moved back to the center of the court so he had a better view. His eyes followed her progress as she hit ball after ball. But he wasn’t concentrating on her tennis skill. It was her legs that had him mesmerized. They were long and lean and he had a clear view right up to the edge of her sassy tennis skirt. And every once in a while, he got another view of her spectacular derriere when she dove to return a particularly difficult ground shot.
He had no idea who the blond woman was. She was playing against a ball machine in the middle of the afternoon. Gus had arrived at his friend’s club early to play golf and, since he wasn’t a member of this particular country club, he was asked to wait in the lobby. Thankfully, his wait was rewarded by the view of the woman playing tennis and he was content to remain, grateful even.
Gus considered himself a connoisseur of women but he’d never been particularly fascinated by legs. He was more of a breast