Chapter 29
Chapter twenty-nine
Tabitha
While tying the laces on her bowling shoes, Tabitha replayed the interview with Jonathan and Lucy Miller.
The meeting had flowed smoothly following their inquisition of Zac, and she walked away with enough material to write an entire series of articles on the charming couple.
The interview, paired with the climbing excursions, would surely inject her work with the excitement and zest Claudia said was missing.
In a few short days, she felt changed in some way. Lighter.
“You’re up first,” Zac said after entering their names into the scoreboard above their lane.
She gasped, blinking at letters as though she were reading them wrong. “Tabitha?”
He chuckled at her mock dramatics. “As a thank you for standing up for me back there.”
“Every word of it was true. You’ve been great on our excursions,” she assured, swishing past him to select her ball from the return rack.
It’s the extracurricular interactions that haven’t exactly been professional.
But again, two to tango. She hadn’t pushed him away.
In fact, she’d encouraged it. Challenged him.
And she couldn’t deny to herself that she’d wanted every skim. Every stroke.
“Thank you, really.” His raspy voice was soft, gently expressing his appreciation.
She shook off her rising lust and glanced over her shoulder. “Keep your distance.”
Zac stood behind the seats to protect his crotch. “I’m a quick learner.”
Tabitha smirked and picked up her ball then ambled up to the beginning of the lane.
The blonde wood beneath her feet was slick with so many years of polish.
How anyone could move fluidly without slipping was beyond her.
She swung her arm like a pendulum a few times to work up the momentum and then launched.
“Everyone sucks their first time,” Zac reassured as her ball made a severely angled dash into one of the gutters. “Plus, that was a practice throw.”
Not one to be easily discouraged, Tabitha scooped up her ball for the second roll of her turn. While her form was slightly better, she only managed to knock down two pins. Still, improvement was improvement. She twirled around and scooted off the lane.
Zac approached the return and slid his hands over the colorful balls lined up. He hemmed and hawed for an unnecessarily long time.
“Any day now, Zachariah.”
He cringed but didn’t hurry his movements.
In fact—if it was even possible—he slowed his investigation.
He skimmed his hands over the curve of each ball, and Tabitha could practically feel his calloused fingers on her skin.
Remembered the rough sensation as he toyed with the strings at the bottom of her cutoff shorts.
Then finally he made his selection and hefted it into his palm.
But as he slowly slid his fingers into the holes, his knuckles refused to enter.
“They’re—” Tabitha cleared her throat as it caught on her words. “They’re not going to fit.”
“Hmm?” His brows lifted innocently, but there was only mischief sparkling in his brown eyes. “So they aren’t. A little too thick for this one.”
Tabitha squeezed her knees together. Maybe bowling wasn’t the best idea.
Fine, it wasn’t the bowling that was the problem.
It was her raging libido that had decided to wake up out of the blue and lust over the absolute wrong man at the absolute wrong time.
She cursed herself for extending their visit to Wenatchee.
Just the one game, then it was back to her hotel to organize her notes.
And possibly take a cold shower.
Zac decided on a different ball, positioned himself back from the lane, and took a deep breath.
Then he strode a few methodical steps forward, gliding his ball backward then forward in expert form.
A rumbling roll thundered down the lane and crashed into the pins, knocking each one over in a powerful blast.
Zac watched them tumble and nodded at his strike.
Tabitha watched his ass the whole time and nodded at the perfectly snug jeans he wore.
Maybe some water would do her good. A bottle from the vending machine or an entire bucket filled with ice should do.
“Nice job!” Why did she sound like a Little League coach? And why did she follow it up with an exploding fist bump?
Zac only grinned, eyes darkening, and his smile curled into a lopsided grin, practically licking his lips because he knew.
He knew she was hot for him.
He’d learned sixteen years ago what it meant when she started acting all awkward. When she wasn’t attracted to someone, no matter how intimidating or powerful, she had the ability to remain cool as a cucumber. Unflappable, one might say. But if she had a thing for someone?
Tabitha had less than zero game.
“My turn,” she sang, secretly hating herself for having such an obvious tell.
“Before you arm yourself”—Zac raised his hands in a defense stance—“would you like some pointers?”
“No,” she barked. Demanding her nerve to calm down she tried again. “No thank you. I think I’ve got this handled on my own.”
Equipped with the bowling ball, Tabitha stood back from the lane.
She’d watched what Zac did, and while she’d been distracted by the sway of his derriere, she thought she could mimic his movements.
Deep breath to center herself. She took a few steps forward while pulling back to glide the ball down the lane.
Five pins toppled and she jumped in celebration, barely staying on her feet as her tractionless shoes slipped all over the floor.
“Well done,” Zac purred. “But you’re still missing something. Care if I help now?”
Tabitha was skeptical but also curious to see if his pointers helped. She shrugged. “Why not?”
Before she could blink, the eager man was beside her. Warmth pulsed off him as he stood so close. Goose bumps rose on her skin and it took everything in her to focus on his suggestions.
“First, you picked the wrong ball.” He snatched up the pink ball to return it to the rack lining the back wall.
“Would you believe me if I said I’d picked it because it matched my outfit?” Tabitha joked. She glanced at her dress and confirmed it did, indeed, match her dress.
“No. Cuz that’s not your style.” He walked to the next rack of bowling balls. “Yours was too light. You need a little heft to increase the power. The force will transfer from one pin to another and should get you a better score.”
Tabitha accepted the fourteen-pound ball he offered and grinned at the shimmering gold swirled in the design. It looked straight out of the 70s. “It’s a lot heavier than my original choice.”
“You can take it,” he teased. That husky voice scraped the nape of her neck, sending volts of electricity to every extremity. “Can I help you with your form?”
All she could manage was a nod because she had no idea what would come out of her mouth otherwise.
From behind her, Zac slid his palm from her elbow to her wrist, then settled on her hand. His other fingers gripped her left hip gently, shifting her slightly so she faced the lane head-on.
“It’s a fluid motion. Push the ball out in front of you, swing it back then let it fly. Be sure to align your hand in the direction you want the ball to go once you’ve released. If you cross it over, the course will follow straight into the gutter.”
“Along with my mind,” she couldn’t keep from saying.
His fingers tightened on her hip. The callouses played roughly against the cotton fabric that flowed gracefully out from her waist. Soft against rough.
She wanted those hands on her skin. To play down the line of her leg and grip her ankle again.
But this time without the guise of checking her for an injury.
“You’re killing me, tabby cat.” There went his breath again, playing with the escaped hairs at the nape of her neck. She pressed her ass back in a misguided attempt to push him away and regain her sanity. Though as he groaned and gripped her hip even tighter, she realized where she’d erred.
“I think I should bowl.” Tabitha looked over her shoulder and up into Zac’s blown pupils.
“Mm-hm,” he responded.
“Zac?”
“Yes, tabby cat?”
“Maybe you should step back.”
“You sure you want me to?”
“It’s not really about what I want at the moment.” Tabitha felt a wash of embarrassment, erasing the bulk of her lust. “But the family of five that settled in next to us seems mighty uncomfortable.”
It took a second for the words to register, but when they did, he stiffened.
“You got it from here.” He left a platonic pat on her shoulder and retreated. Tabitha snickered as he discreetly adjusted himself and sat in their area to watch her bowl.
Poised for the second half of her turn, Tabitha regarded Zac’s suggestions. Deep breath, square off, fluid swing, arm in line with the direction she wanted the ball to go. She watched as it rolled down the lane and crashed with more force into the remaining pins.
“Way to pick up that spare,” Zac said, wrapping her in a tight hug.
He smelled so freaking great. Warm and citrusy and Tabitha wanted to bury her face in his neck and sniff him all afternoon.
She sighed and relaxed into him as he reached up and ran a couple fingers down her neck and along her shoulder, snagging on the strap tied in a neat bow.
She wished they were alone so he could tug each side and release the top of her dress.
“Wanna get out of here?” he rumbled into her hair, seemingly reading her mind. “We’re all paid up.”
“I suppose there’s no reason to stay now that I’m a pro,” Tabitha teased, chuckling as Zac gripped her arm and all but dragged her out of the bowling alley.