jumped and clapped. Spinning, she pointed at Jack. “Take that, Mulligan!”
Jack couldn’t help but grin back at her. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had this much fun.
Whatever she lacked in bowling experience she made up for in total dedication. She asked for tips and concentrated on implementing them. Then laughed at herself easily when she failed, cheered loudly when she succeeded. He was absolutely mesmerized.
Best of all, he hadn’t thought about the club or the books or Trevor O’Shaughnessy in hours. The noise in his head, the worries that dogged him daily, was quiet tonight. It was easy to be with her. Relaxing. She was funny and charming, completely at ease with him.
Even after he’d made such a fool of himself when removing her boot. What a disaster.
He’d removed plenty of women’s clothing over the years. Hell, he could undress and dress a woman in the dark with gloves on, if necessary. But there was something about Justine’s delicate foot—so tempting in her fancy silk stocking—that had nearly driven him over the edge.
Which was ludicrous. It was a foot, no different than any other woman’s foot. And yet, it had been different. Because the foot belonged to Justine. Somehow that sight had caused arousal to spike in his groin.
He was beginning to fear his reaction to her. He seemed to lose his mind every time he was in her presence. No matter how often he told himself she wasn’t for him, his body had other ideas. God help him if this woman ever decided she’d like a night in his bed. He’d probably come in his trousers.
She dropped into the chair next to him, her skin glowing from exertion. How in hell had he ever thought her plain?
“Nicely done. You are improving.”
“I won’t beat you, of course, but at least I’ve stopped throwing them in the gutter.” Her first five balls had gone directly to the side.
“Progress, chérie. Progress.”
Rising, he lifted his ball, aimed, then stepped and threw it. All ten pins crashed into the back of the lane, causing Rye to flinch.
“Easy, Mulligan!” Rye called. “I don’t fancy a trip to the bonesetter!”
Justine clapped for Jack, as well. “Outstanding,” she said when he returned to their seats. “How did you ever learn to do that?”
He lifted a shoulder. “I asked.”
“Who? The best bowler in the city?”
“Yes,” he said, completely serious. “He owed me a favor and I asked for instruction in exchange.”
“Don’t tell me. I don’t wish to hear any more of your deals.”
“I got his wife a job at city hall. Not all my deals are of a criminal nature.”
“Just most of them.”
He chuckled, even though she was poking fun at him. When was the last time someone had dared? Justine kept him on his toes, certainly.
She approached the lane then glanced over her shoulder. “Will you teach me?”
“To bowl?”
“Yes. Show me all of your tricks, Mulligan.”
Oh, cara. If only. He’d keep her in bed for weeks.
He rose slowly. “We have only one more frame. Are you certain you don’t wish to finish this game?” And then leave? He didn’t voice the latter, but she hadn’t exactly been thrilled to stay tonight. There was no sense in pushing and scaring her. He’d much rather use patience and cunning to win her over.
And he would win her over. It was only a matter of time before he got her in bed. He’d decided as much about two frames ago.
“All the more reason to finish strong in the last frame. Come on.”
Now at the mouth of the lane, he shoved his hands in his trouser pockets. “First, you’re trying to roll the ball directly down the middle. Bowling is about angles, speed and rotation. The best way to get all the pins is to hit them slightly off-center.”
Her brows lowered as she thought about this. “That is why your ball swings out to the right at first and then curves back in.”
“Correct. To do that, you have to turn your hand as you release the ball. Flick your wrist over your thumb.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.” She examined her ball.
“Here, let me show you.” He took her ball and put his two fingers in the holes. It was a tight fit, but he showed her what he meant, how you had to create the proper rotation for the ball to curve. “When you release it, move like this.”
“Let me try.” With the ball in her hand, she rotated her hand to the side. “Like this?”
As if it were