Page 24 of Time for Change

Jack glances at me, and I shrug. “Let’s do two,” he replies, pulling his credit card out from his wallet.

“Shoes?”

“Yes, two pairs, please,” he replies.

After he pays for two games of bowling and we share our shoe size, the woman grabs them off the shelf, and we’re on our way. We head toward the end of the long row of lanes and find our number. There’s a family of four at the last lane, but plenty of room for us beside them. I follow Jack’s lead and throw my purse and coat onto one of the plastic seats before taking my shoes.

Once they’re on my feet, I glance over at Jack, who’s watching me with a look of excitement in his gorgeous blue eyes. “Ready to go pick out balls?”

A bark of laughter slips from my mouth. “Can’t say I’ve ever heard that line before,” I quip, loving the way his entire face lights up when he laughs.

“Can’t say I’ve ever suggested my date go pick out balls before.”

He takes my hand again and leads me to the racks on the edge of the room. “Those are the lighter ones. You want it to have some weight to it, but not too heavy, and your fingers shouldn’t be too tight in the holes.” He lifts a bright pink and orange ball before placing it back on the rack. He moves to another one and holds it up. “Try this one.”

I place my fingers in the holes and take the ball. It’s just as he described. It has some weight, but not too heavy. “I think this one will work.”

“Okay,” he replies, moving down to the heavier balls. It takes him a few tries before he settles on a basic black ball. “Ready?”

I nod eagerly as we return to our lane and place our balls on the return. “Isn’t it proper first date etiquette to let your date win if she’s never played before?” I ask, watching the way Jack’s fingers move across the screen to input our names. I’ve never been attracted to hands before, but his look like they could do some serious seduction when used properly.

Is hand porn a thing?

“Only for the first game. Then, all bets are off,” he states. When he glances up, he grins and winks at me, causing those pesky little butterflies to flutter once more.

“Well, I only need one game,” I tell him, cracking my knuckles. “I’ll be ready for the pros by game two.”

His chuckle is deep and gravelly and makes my thighs clench. “All right, Miss Professional. Let’s see it.”

I take the ball in my hand and get ready. I may not have ever bowled before, but I’ve seen enough in movies to get the gist. I walk up to the line and release the ball. It thuds a little on the hardwood, rolling its way down the lane, before dropping into the gutter at the halfway point.

Dang.

As I wait for my ball to return, Jack comes up and stands beside me. “I’m no expert, but I can offer a few pointers.”

I turn, a grin on my face, as I cross my arms over my chest. “Are you going to give me bad advice to ensure you win?” I ask.

“Definitely,” he replies, reaching for my ball as it returns. “Okay, you’re going to want to bend down a little lower as you release your ball, so it doesn’t jump. It’ll make a much more fluid release and slide on the lane. And I noticed you have a bit of a hook, so you can either try to keep your wrist straight when you release the ball or shift to the right a step and see if that helps.”

Nodding, I take the ball he offers me and move a bit to the right. I can feel the heat of his body as he helps me line up. Even though his touch isn’t sexual, a zap of electricity races through my body and tingles form on my skin when he brushes against me. My entire body is alive, my senses heightened, my panties a little damper than they should be.

I don’t know what it is about Jack but his presence makes me stand up and take notice.

Trying to go over his instructions in my head, I line up my throw with the pins, swing the ball back, and let it fly down the lane. This time, when the ball starts to hook to the left, it doesn’t go into the gutter. Instead, it stays its course, knocking three pins down when it reaches the end of the lane.

“Not bad,” he encourages with a wide grin. “I’m probably going to regret giving you all my pointers.”

I snort, watching the screen as it registers three points beside my name. “I have a way to go, but I’m having fun,” I tell him, realizing I truly am. We’ve only been here about fifteen minutes, and I’ve thrown just two balls, but I find I’m relaxed and comfortable and the smiles are real.

His grin starts slow before transforming into something sexy that lights up his entire face. “Me too.”

I take a seat on one of the hard plastic chairs and watch as Jack retrieves his ball. I’m transfixed on his motions, on the flex of his muscles beneath his dark gray Henley and blue jeans. He’s clearly done this before. There’s no doubt in my mind as he takes his position. Even though I can’t see his face, I can feel the weight of his concentration as he slowly moves toward the line. His movements are fluid, his release timed, his stance perfection as he watches his ball roll toward the pins. I glance down the lane as his ball slams into the pins, taking seven of them down with force.

As he turns and walks back toward me, I shake my head. “You were on a bowling team, weren’t you.” It’s not a question but an observation.

“No,” he quickly assures me, wiping off his hand on a white towel he produces from a shelf beneath the ball return. “But I did bowl a lot when I was younger,” he says, hanging the small towel from a hook, “And…I’ve bowled with my kids a few times.”

Okay, I wasn’t expecting that answer.

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