But there was still no way he was going to let her go out there and get hurt.
“No. I’m sorry. You might be an expert handler.” His mouth twitched, despite his attempts to convey the seriousness of the situation. “But you’re also stubborn, and I fully believe you’d take a line drive tothe chest before you’d admit that you don’t really know what you’re doing out there.”
Her eyes went dark enough that he half expected steam to start pouring out of her ears.
Whoops. Maybe telling Naomi she couldn’t do something in front of the entire team wasn’t such a great idea.
“Ms. Grant, you’re up,” Morey called from the other end of the dugout.
Naomi pivoted on her back foot so fast she threw dust.
“Wait a second.” Ethan reached for her hand, but she was too fast. His fingers closed around air.
“Excuse me,” she said, her voice dangerously light. “They’re calling my name.”
The way she swayed her hips as she grabbed her helmet and bat and walked to home plate was absolutely designed to punish him.
Ethan groaned. He had a feeling that no matter what the outcome of her at-bat was, somehow he was going to live to regret it.
Naomi stopped just shy of the batter’s box to take a few warm-up swings. Ethan wiped sweat from his furrowed brow. That stance wasn’t anything like what he’d shown her. She was wiggling way too much.
Unlike Ethan, who could feel a migraine starting behind his eye sockets, the pitcher on the opposing team didn’t seem to mind Naomi’s admittedly limber routine. His mouth was practically hanging open. It was a wonder the ball didn’t roll out of his slack grip.
Instead of course-correcting when she finally stepped into the batter’s box, Naomi adjusted her stance so it was even more outrageous. With her legs completely straight, she lowered her torso toward her knees, which had the effect of... Ethan swallowed.Oh dear.
“She looks like she’s shooting a pinup calendar,” Morey whispered to him, in half awe and half fear. “What’s she playing at?”
If Ethan had the answer to that, he’d sleep a lot better at night.
The first pitch went wild, missing the strike zone by a solid three feet.
Naomi stepped out of the box again, this time to...
“Oh, you have gotta be kidding me,” Ethan yelled, loud enough for her to hear.
She gave him a heart-stopping wink as she continued to roll her shirt up and tuck it to reveal her navel.
“Well,” Morey reasoned, wiping his brow with a handkerchief, “you gotta admit that’s a strategy we haven’t tried before.”
Ethan’s desire to win wasn’t strictly opposed to distraction techniques, and his body definitely wasn’t opposed to seeing any part of Naomi’s, but he still had a problem with her putting herself in danger by squaring up toward the mound. His every instinct told him that was what this whole performance was leading up to.
The opposing pitcher could barely take his eyes off the planes of her bare stomach. As for Ethan, well, he tried his best to control where his gaze landed.
Halfway through the windup, Naomi moved into the bunting position Ethan had shown her. Luckily, the pitcher was so bamboozled, there was barely any heat behind his throw. Naomi kissed the ball with the fat edge of the bat, and it fell in a perfectly executed bunt a few feet in front of her.
Both the pitcher and catcher froze at her unexpected show of technique following so many minutes of misdirection. By the time they got the throw off to Amelia, Naomi had already cleared first base and was now smiling at Ethan like he could very much go fuck himself.
Honestly, he wished he could. That entire display was one of the sexiest things he’d ever seen in his life. There might as well have been cartoon birds floating around his head as their next batter made his way to the plate.
Morey nudged Ethan with a sharp elbow. “Look alive. You’re on deck.”
He pulled his gloves out of his back pocket and grabbed a helmet while the batter managed a line drive. Ethan’s desire to win cut throughall his other emotions like a knife through butter. With runners on both first and second, he had a chance to tie the game in his next at-bat.
As he took his stance and checked the positions of the outfielders, Amelia gave him a friendly little wave from first base. He nodded in recognition and was taken even more aback when Amelia’s smile bloomed wider. It was a bit more of a warm greeting than he’d expected, and his cheeks went warm.
Apparently, he wasn’t the only one confused by her attention. Amelia’s pitcher shot her a warning glare. He was sour after Naomi had so transparently played him, and had barely made anything within the strike zone during the last at-bat. Maybe Ethan could goad him? He certainly didn’t have the same assets at his disposal as Naomi, but he could ham it up, Major League style.
Why not? The Sunday synagogue league had certainly never seen anything like today’s Beth Elohim team before. Now that Naomi was safely on base, he didn’t see anything wrong with putting on his own performance. With extreme bravado, he made a show of slowly pointing beyond the fence. His face as stoic as Babe Ruth himself.