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My back to his front, his hands were gentle over mine as he helped me move through the motions. Then he took a step back. “Now, you try.”
I looked at him over my shoulder, wondering if he was as affected as I was, but he merely winked and took another step back.
I drew in a breath, straightened, and threw the ball, hoping it was close to what Ben had done. When Hunter caught the ball, I let out a breath.
“A little outside, but not bad.”
I had no idea what he was talking about. “A little outside?”
“You have to throw it over the plate between the batter’s shoulders and knees to be a strike.”
“Gotcha.” I swallowed. I could do it.
“Now, you need a batter,” Ben said as he jogged to the batter’s box.
He must have grabbed his bat when he retrieved the gloves from his truck because his was bigger than the kids’. He got into his stance, looking so confident and sexy. I licked my suddenly dry lips.
“Aunt Brooke! I’m trying to give you the signal.”
I moved my gaze from Ben’s perfect form to Hunter. “Right.”
I couldn’t remember what the hand signals meant. It didn’t matter since I was hoping just to get the ball across the plate. I bit my lip as I wound up and threw it.
Ben watched it go over the plate.
“Strike one,” Hunter said with enthusiasm.
“Yes!” I pumped my hand, feeling a little ridiculous, but the kids seemed to enjoy my silliness.
Ben narrowed his eyes at me, deepening his stance. He was taking it seriously.
I wound up a second time and threw the ball. Ben swung and hit it hard. Cammie took off running, and all I could do was watch it fly over my head and land just inside the fence.
“Home run,” Hunter whooped.
Ben jogged leisurely around the bases, pumping his hand as he went.
“Sorry, bud,” I said, moving toward home to wait for Ben’s arrival.
Hunter shrugged, completely unconcerned. “No big deal. But you’re up next.”
“I’m sorry. What now?” I asked as Ben crossed the plate.
“You’re the only one who hasn’t batted,” Ben said.
“Oh, I don’t need to—this is for you guys to practice.” I started to back away from the plate. “I’ll just stay out of the way.”
“It’s your turn.” Ben stood by the batter’s box, holding his bat out to me.
“I should probably use Cammie’s bat.” I picked up her purple and white bat from where it leaned against the fence. It felt light and very short.
Ben looked at it with amusement. “That’s way too small for you.
“I don’t know about that,” I hedged.
Ben took it from me and replaced it with his heavier one.
“Are you scared?” he challenged, sparking a fire in my chest.
