Loving Him Off the Field (Santa Fe Bobcats #2)(54)

She slid a saucy smile over her shoulder. “Is that a bowling pin in your pocket, or are you happy to see me?”

He laughed. “Cheesy.”

“But effective. Now shadow me. Follow my steps and my arm swing. Ready?” She started to move and he awkwardly followed. It was difficult, as her steps were so much shorter than his own, but he tried to keep up with her without stepping on her heels. She didn’t release the ball at the end, just froze in her final position. “Feel that? This is what your arm and wrist should look like after you let the ball go. You have to tell it where to go.”

He stepped back, fighting the urge to toss the ball aside and go a few rounds with her on the lanes themselves. “Just tell the ball where to go.”

She seemed to think for a moment, cradling the ball by her breasts with both hands. “You’re the kicker. Do you just walk onto the field, take a few steps back, let your leg swing around wildly, and pray you connect with the ball and it goes in the general direction you want it to?” She barely paused for a breath, and certainly not long enough for him to answer. “Of course not. You have a plan. Certain amount of steps, certain way you want your placeholder to position the ball, certain part of your foot you want to hit the specific spot on the football. That sort of thing. That’s you telling the ball where to go. Same thing. You’ve just gotta be the boss.”

She’d taken the time to analyze bowling into football terms he could understand. Without overthinking—that evil thing she’d told him not to do—he stepped up, took the ball from her, and gave her a smacking kiss. “I’ll do my best, coach.”

“I hope you don’t give your special teams coaches the same sort of treatment after practices,” she said in an amused voice.

“Only my favorite ones.”

“I’m reporting on the wrong story,” she murmured with a wicked gleam. She stepped to the side, a little behind his starting position, and waved a hand. “Give it a run. Do what you felt me doing, and don’t worry.”

Much as it pained him to admit, he wanted to get this right. He wanted to impress her. Be the guy who was good at everything, earn her respect and admiration, her worship, her . . .

Her.

Yeah, right. And bowling is the way to do that. Head out of your ass, ball down the lane, knock down pins.

Here went nothing.

*

An hour later, Aileen checked her watch. She hadn’t planned on staying so late when she’d started this silliness. A single game or two of bowling and laughing and . . . okay, some flirting and maybe stealing a kiss or dozen. But they were now on game four, and Killian was determined to keep going. And going, and going . . .

It wouldn’t have been so bad, except that he was so bad. For all the precise accuracy he showed on the football field, he was all thumbs with a bowling ball. Even an average Joe should have had more luck than what he’d had, just playing around with it and having fun. But Killian’s fun-blocking personality wasn’t letting it flow naturally, and he kept catching himself on the details instead of just letting loose.

She lounged on the row of hard plastic chairs, taking up three at once. Stifling a yawn, she called out, “You have to start a few inches to the left. You’re too far over.”

He scowled at her as he approached the ball chute. “When I started there the last time, the ball shot straight to the gutter.”

“Because you were twisting your arm like I told you not to in order to compensate when you didn’t have to.” She couldn’t help but chuckle at his stubborn face. “Let’s give it a break for tonight. If you want, we can bowl another day.”

“I still suck,” he insisted.

“And you didn’t learn to kick a field goal in a day, either.”

“No, but I sure as hell caught on a lot faster than this.” He shot her a smug look, then turned and lined up his feet exactly where she wanted him to. His shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath, then he approached and let the ball fly.

She knew, even before it reached the halfway point, it was golden. When all ten pins scattered in a clatter that echoed through the empty hall, she pumped her fist and shouted with excitement.

And when he turned, there was no way to prepare her heart for the little thud it gave when she saw his face light up at his first strike. Pride, overlaid with pure fun and a little bit of smugness mixed in all tumbled around in her chest like a supernova ball of joy.

He looked stunned, as if it hadn’t occurred to him he’d be able to do it.

“Holy shit.”

She laughed and, without thinking, jumped up and threw herself at him. He caught her easily, and when she wrapped her legs around his waist and gave him a kiss, he leaned in for a deeper one.

“Welcome to bowling, Killian. Next thing you know, you’ll have a shirt with your name stitched over the pocket and your very own pair of bowling shoes.”

He grinned at her. “Don’t get carried away. But that was . . . cool. That was cool.”

She kissed him again, then started to unwind her arms from around his neck. Before she could, Killian’s eyes changed from delight and disbelief to molten heat. His dark eyes roamed her face for a moment, then he kissed her again. And this time, it wasn’t a congratulatory kiss, or a playful one. This was a kiss that made her panties feel like they were on fire. She squeezed her legs tighter around his waist, then gasped into his mouth when she felt like she was falling.