Loving Him Off the Field (Santa Fe Bobcats #2)(53)

She glanced at it. “Online. You want one?” She grinned wickedly. “We could get a cute little teddy bear throwing a football or something.”

He smacked her ass hard enough to echo in the empty alley. She just laughed and lined up.

“You start here, with your toes on these arrows.” She looked over her shoulder to make sure he was watching. “You’re right handed like me, so you’ll just do exactly what I do. Start with this foot . . .” Trailing off, she took a few steps, a back swing, then let the ball go effortlessly. It rolled down the lane until it knocked over nine pins with a startling clatter. The tenth wobbled, and he held his breath, but it righted itself.

She watched, not turning around until the arm of the machine lowered to remove the downed pins. “That’s all. Pretty simple.”

He glared. “If you do this all the time, how come you only knocked down nine?”

He worried she might be offended by the question, but laughed instead. “I’m not great. Better than your average ‘show up once in a blue moon’ bowler, but I’m not great. Sadly, this is my best sport. You’ve seen how pathetic I am at cardiovascular feats. I’m more of a spectator and reporter rather than a doer.”

He couldn’t tell if she was being honest, or self-deprecating. Either way, he could tell she wasn’t as fancy as some of the other bowlers he’d watched during league play. They had crazy windups, wicked spins, and some had almost comical footwork. Hers was a straightforward approach. Nothing fancy, just getting the ball down the lane time after time.

“Okay then.” He waited for her to bowl her second time, counting the steps and watching when she released the ball. The timing of the release seemed to be the key. The final pin didn’t stand a chance as the ball hit it head-on. After she was finished, he stood and grabbed his ball.

Aileen took a few steps to the side and back, so she was out of his line of vision. “Okay, off you go.”

He took one step, then froze and turned to look at him. “What, no coaching? No tips or last-minute tricks?”

She scoffed. “It’s bowling, not land mine jumping. Just throw the ball and see if it works.”

“You know, for a semi-professional—”

She snorted.

“—you’re not very exact.” He tried to emulate her simple approach and windup, then ended up throwing the ball straight into the gutter two feet down the lane. “Well, damn.”

“You twisted your wrist at the last second.” She held an imaginary ball in front of her, fingers extended as if they were in the correct positions. “At the last second, you did this when you released.” She demonstrated with a flair, some weird wrist-flip thing.

“I did not.”

She raised a brow. “You’re right. Us semi-pro folk know nothing.”

He was the one who snorted this time. “Fine. I have another shot, right?”

“You do.”

He was determined this time to get it right. Or at least, as right as he could with zero practice. He waited for his ball to pop out of the chute-thingie and gripped it like she’d shown him.

He lined up, positioned his feet, took three steps, then froze again.

“You’re thinking too much.” Aileen walked up behind him and gripped his arms, pulling him back to the starting position. “That little hitch that made you stop was you thinking too hard. It’s just a ball, and you’re just telling it where to go.”

This was ridiculous. He forced himself to take a quick approach and flung the ball as hard as he could. It bounced with a nasty thud, then skittered straight into the gutter. There was no way to mask the groan he let out at seeing a second ball fail so spectacularly.

“Yeah. Just toss it like a Neanderthal. Brilliant.” With a tone so dry it might have been burnt toast, she gave him a few claps. “If you don’t want to do this—”

“I do,” he snapped, waiting for the ball to return and then grabbing it.

“Uh, it’s actually my turn,” she said.

“Do you need the practice?” When she kept her lips pursed together, he nodded. “So I’m just gonna go.”

Hustling to the starting point, he got ready, then jolted when he felt her small hand between his shoulder blades. She rubbed a few times, like she might have been soothing a child.

“Let me help.”

The words were full of more than bowling advice. He ignored the heaviness of their implication. “Fine. Show me again.”

“Together,” she countered. Stepping up behind him, she flattened her front to his back. The pose was ridiculous, with her face pressed to his back and her hips cradling his ass. But he couldn’t make his cock find the hilarity of it. No, his cock found the entire thing far more sexy than it had any right to. Despite the ugly shoes and the stupid shirts, despite knowing there was no way a relationship between them would work, his groin couldn’t be persuaded to find her unattractive.

Seeming to understand the position did nothing helpful, she laughed. “Okay, if you weren’t so darn tall, this would work.”

“I’m not tall,” he insisted, but she ignored that and scooted around in front of him. Nestling her back against his front, she took the ball from him and slid her fingers in. With a little wiggle, her ass rested against his thighs, and his erection pressed into the small of her back.