Page 33 of Foster

She takes the seat to my left and leans into me, whispering, “I feel bad that Mazzy isn’t any good at this. Maybe I should miss some more.”

My eyes slide over to Mazzy who is fitting her fingers in the ball, moving into position. She’s got on a pair of faded, loose jeans and had been wearing worn-looking combat-type boots before changing into bowling shoes. Her gauzy blouse has billowy sleeves, and she’s put her hair in a long braid that hangs over one shoulder with shorter pieces falling out and framing her face.

I’m usually a gentleman but not today. My eyes drop to her ass briefly when she bends forward a bit and just… Christ, I’ve totally got the hots for the nanny.

Rather than chastise myself or force my thoughts in a different direction, I ruffle Bowie Jane’s hair. Looking down at my daughter, I say, “Rather than you missing more, maybe I should teach her what to do.”

She nods solemnly. “That would be a good idea.”

I push up off the seat just as Mazzy is getting ready to take her awkward steps forward. She holds the ball too low and her backswing flares far too wide, which is why she ends up in the gutter most of the time. All of this is compounded by the fact she’s just not coordinated enough to take walking steps up to the line while at the same time swinging her arm.

“Hold up,” I call out, and she looks over her shoulder at me expectantly.

I trot onto the lane, glancing back at Bowie Jane who gives me a thumbs-up. When I reach Mazzy, I say, “Want a few pointers?”

She narrows her eyes at me. “You’re just now figuring out I don’t know what I’m doing?”

I grin at her, resisting the urge to tweak her on the nose. That beautiful, freckled nose. “Oh no. I figured it out the first time I saw you take the ball in hand. But it was fun watching that weird little waddle you do.”

Her eyes flare wide, her mouth forming anO. “I most certainly don’t waddle.”

I hold up my hand, a small space between my index finger and thumb. “Just a little.”

“Okay, fine, Mr. Know It All,” she huffs out. I hear Bowie Jane giggle from behind us. “Teach me what to do.”

“With pleasure,” I reply. Was my voice a little too deep and husky? She doesn’t seem to react, so I put my hands on her shoulders. “First, you’ve got to loosen up. You’re as stiff as a board.”

“It’s stressful getting your ass kicked by a ten-year-old,” she mutters, but then rolls her shoulders under my touch. She even throws her head side to side, as if cracking the bones in her neck. “Okay… I’m loose.”

She’s not, but I move on. “Next, you need to hold the ball a bit higher.” I move behind her, using my hands at her elbows to raise everything. “Right here at chest level.”

I try very hard not to think of her chest in any way.

“Now, move forward. We’re going to leave the waddling issue alone for now and just have you release from the line. You won’t have as much momentum, but we’ll straighten out your delivery.”

“I have no clue what you just said,” Mazzy mumbles but lets me walk her up to the line with my hands still supporting her elbows. I’m not touching her in any other way but our bodies are close, and I am hyperaware of how good she smells and how lovely that red braid looks disappearing over her shoulder.

“I’m going to guide your arm,” I advise as I wrap a hand around her wrist. “Just hold the ball and stay loose. Lean forward a tiny bit.”

With my other hand still at her opposite elbow, I guide her arm backward in a much straighter line than what she had been previously doing. “Feel the difference?”

Mazzy nods.

“Now look back and see where the ball is in relation to your body.”

She does as requested.

I release her and step back. “Okay… just practice that move a few times. Bring your ball up before your chest, then lean forward and swing your arm back keeping it close to your body.”

Mazzy takes instruction well and after a few practice attempts, I tell her, “Okay… let’s just do the release. Focus your attention on where you want the ball to go… right down at the pins.”

“Oh,” she says in that snarky voice of hers that I’ve come to enjoy. “I thought I was supposed to be looking at the gutter since that’s where all my balls were going.”

“Well,” I drawl with a playful grin, “Bowie Jane and I were wondering. Okay, go ahead… do the swing just like I taught you, focus on the end goal of hitting those pins and let the ball go.”

I step to the side to watch, utterly charmed by the fierce look on her face, wrinkled in concentration. She pulls the ball up, leans forward and brings her arm back perfectly. When she swings it forward, she doesn’t release the ball soon enough and it arcs upward briefly before coming down with a loud thud. The ball rolls a few inches and stops.

Laughing, I run to retrieve it. “You released too late, but the good news is it went straight and not to the gutter.” Mazzy rolls her eyes. “Next attempt, I’ll tell you when to release.”

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