sweeping it down toward the sand and following through as if she’d made connection. “Much better.”
When he stepped back, the loss of him was an echo through her body. “I think I’ve got it…kinda.”
“You got it all right.” His blue gaze coasted over her, tracking her face and then down her body with a liquid, languid slowness that made her toes curl into the sand. “Want to try a real hit?”
“Sure.” She let out a shaky breath.
Trent reached down and plucked a tennis ball from the sand, the granules already clinging to his feet and legs. He had golden hairs dusting his legs and arms, and the sunlight made his head look as if it was covered with an angelic blond cap.
“We play on the harder sand, so the balls will bounce,” he explained as he backed up. “I’m going to bowl to you now, but the bounce can be unpredictable. So try your best and don’t worry if you miss. No one is judging you.”
Cora took up position, placing her bat down and then flexing her wrists back as she waited for Trent to bowl. He grinned at her from several feet away, his eyes delightfully crinkled as he squinted in the sun. When he bowled, she was so struck by how gracefully he moved—with power and speed and an economy of movement that made his body slice through the air as though it took him no effort at all. The ball whizzed straight past her and hit the cooler with a dull thud.
She picked the ball up and tossed it back to him. “Let’s pretend that didn’t happen.”
Trent chuckled. “I didn’t see a thing, I swear.”
“Good.” She shuffled her bare feet, setting them hip-width apart and getting her bat into position.
Trent waited a moment and then bowled to her again. She watched the flash of the yellow tennis ball as it flew toward her, then she cocked her hand back and swung clean through the air. Thump. The ball hit the cooler again.
Cora made a frustrated growl in the back of her throat. This was ridiculous. He wasn’t even bowling that hard; she should be able to make a connection. But the third and fourth bowls were equally as bad, nothing but the whoosh of the air as her bat sailed into nothingness.
She felt the weight of everyone watching her, and though no one seemed to be judging her, having an audience was playing into all her old fears. She flashed back to the time she’d choked at her conservatory’s annual Christmas performance, almost dying of mortification as the conductor shook his head in disappointment.
“You’ve got to relax,” Trent said. “No point getting frustrated. The ball can smell fear.”
She wanted to hand over the damn bat and walk away—maybe go and hide back at Liv’s place and refuse to get near a piece of sporting equipment ever again. But that was New York Cora speaking—the side of her whose fear of failure was so stifling and intense, she didn’t often try new things.
Cora took a deep breath. She let the sun soothe her limbs and the sand support her feet. She let the bat feel comfortable in her hands as she soaked it all in. Aussie Cora was going to have fun, even if she was the worst player on the team by a long shot.
“I’m ready,” she said.
Trent bowled again, and Cora narrowed her gaze, letting the sound of the waves and children shrieking and gulls crying fade into nothing. She stepped forward and swung, the ball clipping the side of the bat and bouncing a ruler’s-length away. It was probably the shittiest hit of all time, but it was still a hit.
“Yeah!” Trent fist pumped the air. “See, I knew you’d get it.”
“Consider yourself initiated,” Nick said with a grin. “Everyone ready?”
“How about boys against girls?” Maddy suggested with a mischievous gleam in her eye. She adjusted the straps on her sleek black one-piece. “But we’ll need one male sacrifice to even things up.”
“More than happy to defect.” Leigh jogged over, his longish hair flopping with each stride. “I’m feeling confident, ladies! Let’s smash these blokes.”
Cora laughed as Skye swung her arm around Leigh’s shoulders, trying to knuckle his hair. The rest of the guys hung their heads together, talking strategy in a loose huddle. But the heat of Trent’s gaze bored into her, stronger and more potent than the full sun overhead. It was hard to shake the jittering energy that flowed through her veins,