“I don’t remember the last time I went bowling. Maybe my freshman year of undergrad? And I have to tell you, even then I wasn’t good at it.”

“You don’t have to be good at it to have fun.”

“I seem to recall the last time I went bowling with a group, my date at the time made fun of my lousy score.”

He stopped and laced his fingers with hers. “Then you’re dating the wrong guys.”

She laughed. “Apparently.”

She wasn’t about to tell him she hadn’t been dating any guys lately. Let him think what he wanted.

They got inside, and for a weeknight, the place was booming. League play, probably. She wasn’t sure she was going to be okay with that, since she was rusty as hell and would probably throw quite a few gutter balls. She didn’t want everyone in there to notice.

“I hope you’re hungry. They serve the best greasy hamburgers in the restaurant here.”

She lifted her gaze to his. “Is that right?”

“I know you being a doctor and all, you’re probably against the whole greasy hamburger thing.”

“I’m a doctor, not a nutritionist. I have nothing against a nice, greasy burger.”

He put his arm around her. “See how we’re connecting? It’s like we’re meant to be.”

Which got her to thinking about what Sheila said.

She immediately dismissed it. She would not go there with that whole fate and destiny stuff. She was hungry, and a burger sounded like a great idea.

Burgers and bowling—her primary objectives, and all her mind could handle at the moment.

See? Fun. Fun she could deal with. Deep stuff? No, thanks.

She smiled up at Tucker. “Let’s bowl.”

TUCKER COULDN’T HELP HIMSELF. AS AUBRY STOOD with the bowling ball in her hand, preparing to toss it down the alley, he wasn’t paying attention to her form or the way she swung the ball or how many pins she knocked down. He was watching her ass.

She had a great ass. Round and curvy in all the right ways, the kind a man wanted to put his hands on.

She knocked down six pins, swung around with a smug grin on her face. One would think she’d just hit a strike.

“Did you see that?” she asked as she took her seat and grabbed her beer.

“I did.”

“Six pins. No gutter balls that time.”

“You’re up to a score of fifty-five.”

“Woo!”

He couldn’t help but laugh. At least she had a great sense of humor about how bad she was.

“I might be ready for that greasy cheeseburger after this game. I feel like I’ve really worked up an appetite. You know, now that I’m so much better at this.”

“Yes, I can tell. You’ve only thrown four balls in the gutter so far this game.”

“Right?”

He took his turn, knocking down nine in his first try, then hitting the other for a spare. Aubry cheered for him, then got up and hit eight pins. She turned to face him, her eyes wide.

He nodded. “You can do this.”

She walked over toward him. “They’re in the corner. I was never very good at hitting the ones in the corner.”

“Take a deep breath and aim from right to left. I have a good feeling about it.”

“I’ll do my best. I’d really like a spare.”

“Then go get one.”

She grabbed her ball and studied the lane.

He could tell this meant something to her, even though she was merely having fun. So he got up and moved behind her, sliding his hands under her elbows.

“Scoot an inch or two to the right.”

She did, and he followed.

“Now make your swing in one swift move, and sight the pins when you let go. Use your wrist to flick it a little toward the pins. Does that make sense to you?”

“Yes.”

He liked the feel of her body against his and was reluctant to let her go. She smelled like something sultry and a little decadent. He wanted to bury his face in her neck and kiss her, then turn her around and kiss her some more.

But now wasn’t the time. He reserved that thought for later.

“You’ve got this, Aubry.” He gave her arms a slight squeeze before letting her go. He went back to his seat and watched as she walked up, swung, and let the ball go.

It rolled down the alley with authority, a perfect roll as it blasted the two pins down.

She raised her arms high and let out a battle cry of celebration. He stood and waited for her while she ran up and threw herself against him. He wrapped his arms around her, really liking the feel of her soft curves pressed against his body.

She pulled back, her smile wide, her eyes shining with victory. “I did it.”

“You did. I knew you could.”

“I got a spare. I don’t suck at this after all.”

“Of course you don’t.”

She stared at him, those intense blue eyes of hers studying him. He saw curiosity and question in her eyes. And also that same desire that gut punched him . . . hard.

He really wanted to kiss her. Right now.

But she palmed his chest, then took a very obvious step back.

“So . . . how about we finish this game, then celebrate with cheeseburgers?”

Message delivered. She wasn’t ready, yet.

But he’d bet she would be before the night was over.

“Sure. And who knows? You might hit another spare, or even a strike before the end of this game.”

She laughed. “Right. Like that’s going to happen. Come on, stud. Game first, cheeseburgers next.”