Page 31 of Hit For Six
‘Do you need a hand?’ he ventured.
‘No! No, I do not. This is ridiculous, Monty.’ She tugged at the grass, scattering confetti in a little mountain next to her. ‘I’m well aware that you’re lobbing me tame balls because you’re not getting the opportunity to practise your spin bowling, so if you’re going to get any proper practise in this side of Christmas, you’d best stand behind me and correct my position already.’
Lola pulled herself up and stood in front of the stumps, thoroughly disgruntled, but thankfully nobody except a voyeuristic grey squirrel had seen her fall.
Thiswas what he’d been hoping and praying for. He was the worst kind of opportunist, the lowest of the low. Sleazebag material, in fact. But Monty had to take his chance. He tried veryhard not to smile at his sudden good luck. It should have earned him a slap. And the rest. You really did have to love a helmet. And here he was referring to the one on top of his head, despite the twitching of other body parts. He blinked his filthy interior monologue away.
‘If you’re sure? I thought you were doing well.’
‘Stop flattering me. Get over here and sort me out.’
With pleasure.
And so two figures stood at the imaginary crease beneath the oak tree, Monty positioning himself behind Lola, trying his best to keep some gentlemanly space between them and ignore the throbbing of his manhood as he lightly placed his hands over hers, rejigging her hold on the bat.
‘Like this,’ he rasped, also desperately trying to ignore the fact they both knew how good it felt to be pressed up against one another– and what that, in turn, could lead to.
All right. Maybe they hadn’t previously stood at this exact angle behind a certain cocktail bar but it was all the same to Monty when Lola’s dress tickled at his shins as if to mimic what her fingers might do to his body, working their way up and up andup. Then there was her lemony scent hitting the airwaves, and the fact that she felt so damn right in his arms. It was virtually impossible for him not to embrace her as he enveloped her back and shoulders so he could put her hands in exactly the right place and show her how to manoeuvre the bat.
‘Your top hand should take control… and the bottom hand is all about power. The grip should feel comfortable, a little relaxed even.’
‘Yes, I’ve got it! No need to labour the point.’
Monty felt like he’d been stung. Reluctantly, he took a step back.
‘All right. Now we need to change your posture. Can you?’Do not say spread!‘Stand with your legs a little further apart. About a shoulder’s width?’
Lola shuffled her feet.
‘Not quite what I had in mind. May I?’
‘What choice do I have?’
She tutted at his mansplaining. This was not going well. All he was doing was pissing her off.
Grateful (and also, shamefully, not grateful) that she was wearing a long dress, Monty got down on his hands and knees to gently move Lola’s feet into position, so that she now stood side-on to the stumps, her feet the proper distance apart.
‘It’s all about balance,’ he said, quickly getting to his own feet. ‘Bend your knees a little and put your weight slightly backwards so you can pivot from the balls of your feet and lunge forward or back, to respond to the intensity of the bowler.’
Lola side-eyed him. Oh, god. Did he really have to phrase it like that?
‘Are you good with me guiding the bat into the correct position?’
‘Mmm-hmm.’
She nodded curtly and Monty stepped around her again before she changed her mind.
“Stand exactly as you are… and then you want to bring the bat down straight like this for a basic attacking or defense shot.’ He tried, in vain, not to rub up against her as he showed her how the move flowed. ‘Obviously, we’re doing it slowly at the moment for demonstration purposes. It will be a lot quicker once I’ve fired the ball at you.’
At this, Lola blew a gargantuan puff of air from her cheeks.
‘Monty, do you have to keep–’
‘Sorry,’ he preempted and then blurted. ‘I can’t seem to stop the innuendos but it’s kind of difficult to say it other than howit is… the game, I mean,the game! I’m one-hundred percent referring to the game.’
‘Such a coincidence that a predominantly male sport should have so many double entendres in its glossary of terms!’
‘Actually, the provenance of cricket still isn’t formally known. It could easily have been women or kids who invented it. And an increasing number of females of all ages are taking it up. Just, erm, saying.’
