Page 50 of A Shore Fling
I hand her one of the balls. “Just do your best. That’s the only requirement.”
She snorts. “Wow. That’s inspiring.”
“You want a pep talk? Join Drew’s team. He gives motivational speeches with eye contact and everything.”
“I heard that,” Drew calls out.
“Oldest goes first,” I say, picking up the white ball from the sand. “This is the pallino, which will become the target we’ll all aim for,” I explain to Nina, tossing it. “Whoever throws the pallino gets to go first.” I take the opening shot, and it drops within a foot of the target. I glance at Nina. “See? It’s easy.”
She gives me a look like she’s weighing whether to roll the ball or throw it at me.
“Underhand,” I say. “Low and smooth. It’s a little like bowling.”
“David said driving a boat was like driving a car, and we know how that turned out.”
“I’m not David. You can trust me.”
Nina throws her ball. It sails dramatically to the left, rolling straight into the waves.
Reed claps slowly. “And the ocean takes the lead.”
Willow sputters out a laugh. “Nice form, though.”
I shake my head and jog down the beach to fish it from the water. When I get back, I hand it to her, dripping. “The sea thanks you for your donation.”
She lifts one shoulder. “I like to keep things interesting.”
“Mission accomplished,” Drew says, clapping.
She lines up again, more focused this time. “Any of you have actual tips to offer or just sarcasm?”
“Sarcasm is the Thorne specialty,” Reed says.
Ignoring him, I make some suggestions. “Less arm. More finesse. If you throw while standing up straight, you should lead with your throwing foot. If it’s easier for you, you can crouch down, but make sure your throwing knee is down and lead with the opposite leg.”
“That’s a lot to think about,” she says.
I nod. “Yeah, but most of what I told you will happen instinctually. Don’t overthink it.”
This time, she rolls it smoother, closer. Not good enough to score, but it’s a significant improvement.
I clap my hands a few times. “There you go.”
The game goes on with Drew critiquing technique and doing commentary like he’s auditioning for a hosting gig. Reed’s surprisingly decent. Willow is aggressively trying to knock everyone else’s balls out of play.
Between turns, Nina leans down next to me. “Drew’s really into this.”
“He gets like this when there’s an audience. And when there isn’t.”
She rolls her eyes. “The Thorne men seem to have a flair for the dramatic.”
“I prefer to think of it as a flair for entertaining whomever is around.”
It’s her turn again. She holds the ball, hesitant, eyes narrowing at the pallino like she’s trying to hypnotize it.
“Try aiming like you’re knocking the smug look from Reed’s face,” I say.
That gets a grin out of her. “Now that I can do.” She rolls the ball and it lands closer than any of her earlier throws.
