Page 31 of Best Kept Secret

“This one feels pretty good,” she said, unaware that Hudson had come up behind her.

“I’m not a fan of blue balls,” he whispered over her shoulder.

She quickly spun around and almost hit him with the ball. Gazing into his sparkling hazel eyes, she said, “Which color would you choose?”

Smiling, he reached around her and picked up a red ball. “Try this one.”

She slipped her fingers into the holes and held the ball against her chest. His eyes followed her every move, landing on her chest, which, admittedly, looked especially good in the snug red T-shirt she’d worn.

“It matches your shirt,” he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Ahem. Are you two done over there?” Nick called, popping their flirtatious bubble.

“Yep. I found the one I want,” she said, hoping he’d picked up on the double meaning. Based on the intensity of his gaze, she guessed he had.

The rest of the evening went similarly. They exchanged playful banter in between rolling their balls down the highly polished lanes. After the first few disappointing frames, her game improved, and she gave him all the credit. Her adrenaline was running so high that she’d begun knocking pins down right and left, minus an occasional gutter ball when the guys purposely tried to distract her.

Stacy’s game was also better than usual, and based on the sizzling looks she and Nick exchanged, Kelsey guessed her friend’s adrenaline was also running high.

At some point, Nick ordered a pitcher of beer and some snacks, which they partook of in between turns.

“Having fun?” he asked during one such break.

“Yes. I haven’t bowled in a long time, and I don’t remember it being this fun.” She had a feeling it was the company more than the sport, but still.

“I was in a league as a kid,” he said.

“Ah. So that’s why you’re so good at it.”

He smiled. “I’m not that good.”

Are we still talking about bowling? She was dying to ask, but it was her turn to bowl. “Hold that thought,” she said and sprang up from the table.

Thanks to the beer, her muscles felt loose and relaxed, and she wondered if that would help or hurt her game. She picked up her ball and positioned herself at the right side of the lane, where she’d been getting the best results.

“C’mon, Kels,” Stacy called, rooting her on.

Kelsey made the approach, crouched down, slid her right leg behind her left, and released the ball with a satisfying pop. She watched it roll down the lane, curving toward the headpin, closer, closer, until…

“Strike!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. It was her first strike of the evening, and she was overly enthusiastic about it, or so she thought.

“Great job!” Stacy said, matching her enthusiasm.

“Nice one,” Nick said, bobbing his head in agreement.

Then she went to rejoin Hudson and found him waiting for her with his arms outstretched.

She walked into them without hesitation, and he closed his arms around her, hugging her to his hard chest. They were overreacting to a strike, but she didn’t care. In fact, everything around her faded out—the hum of voices and clatter of pins became background noise to the pounding in her chest.

He was warm and smelled delicious, like clean cotton, beer, and man, and she soaked him in until he reluctantly let go.

“Perfect shot,” he said, beaming at her.

“It must have been the red ball,” she teased.

“See? I told you the blue one was no good.”

She laughed, and then they sat down and talked some more.