“Join us.”
“Excuse me?” Evie used her hand to shield her face against the sun as she peered up at Gareth, who’d included all of the women in his invitation.
“We need more numbers,” Davy, who’d accompanied him, said. “Would you ladies do us the honor of joining the game?”
“I’m in,” Avery replied, taking Gareth’s hand and letting him haul her upright.
“Me, too,” Sophie said, leaping up.
Emily shook her head. “Sorry, boys, but I’m happy watching.”
Kayla looped an arm around Emily’s shoulders. “I’m with Em, but you guys have fun.”
Davy raised an eyebrow at Evie. “You in?”
She wanted to. The weather was beautiful and the company was of the best variety, but she’d make a fool of herself. What kind of kiwi woman had never thrown a rugby ball?
“I’ll keep these girls company,” she said, gesturing at Kayla and Emily, ignoring the wistful part of her that wanted to be in on the fun.
“Really?” Davy asked. “I would’ve thought you’d want to be in the thick of it.”
She pursed her lips. “Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do.”
Gareth’s cheek muscles twitched. She got the impression he was trying not to laugh.
Davy shook his head. “If you can look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t want to, I’ll believe you.”
She sighed, and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I can’t, but—”
“Then it’s decided.” He beamed. “You’re playing, which means we have even teams of five.”
With a look, Evie implored Avery and Sophie to rescue her, but Sophie was too busy ogling her boyfriend’s admittedly great ass, and Avery just smirked. She probably thought this was karma or something.
Realizing no rescue was imminent, she beckoned Davy closer. He leaned down and she whispered in his ear, “I’ve never played before. I don’t know how.”
His brows shot toward his hairline, his expression becoming incredulous. “Never?” he asked softly. “Surely you’ve played a social game, or learned during PhysEd at school.”
She glanced down. “The thing is, I might have skipped PhysEd once or twice.” Or every class she’d ever had. She’d dropped it as soon as she was able, and before that she’d preferred making out with the stoners behind the gym to actually participating. She’d reasoned that knowing how to kick a ball would never get her anywhere, whereas Robbie with the long hair and dreamy eyes might have been the next Kurt Cobain.
“You naughty girl.”
Her eyes met Davy’s, his green gaze holding her captive. She wished she could fan herself, but as it was, nobody else seemed to have noticed the way he looked at her, and she didn’t want to draw their attention to it.
“We both know I wasn’t a goody-two-shoes,” she said. “So anyway, I really can’t play. You’d be better off being a player short. I’d just get in the way.” She heard how self-pitying she sounded and hated it. In twenty-four hours, he’d seen all the worst of her, and now she felt two feet tall in his presence.
Davy tutted. “I never thought I’d see the day Evelyn Parata sounded sorry for herself. Where’s your fighting spirit? Pull yourself together, toots. I’ll give you a quick demo, and you can come on my team.”
“I’ll be a liability,” she muttered.
“Don’t take things so seriously. It’s a social game amongst friends. We might shit-talk each other, but it’s all in good fun. Come on, you know you want to.”
She did want to. With a good-natured sigh, she agreed. “You’re going to regret this.”
“I seriously doubt that, sweetheart.”
How Evelyn could have made it to the ripe old age of twenty-seven without having thrown a rugby ball was beyond Davy. Even Mariko had joined a game or two, and she was a pencil pusher who topped the scales at 90 pounds.
What surprised him more was how badly he wanted her to let loose on the field with him and the guys. She needed some fun, anyone could see that. He shouldn’t care one way or the other—heck, if he were being honest, he should probably prefer for her to sit out and create some distance between them—but instead, here he was, standing so close to her he could feel the nervous energy vibrating through her compact little body.
“Hold the ball like this,” he said, first showing her, then guiding her hands into the correct position. “You should have a hand at each end, with each of your thumbs on a seam, like this.”
She made a decent attempt.
“Almost,” he told her, “but keep your palms off the ball. Hold it with your fingers and thumbs.”
“Like this?” she asked, adjusting her grip.
“Perfect.” So what if the rest of her looked awkward as hell, the proud smile she gave him had his engine revving. Cool your jets, boy.
“How much do you know about the rules?” he asked.
“A little. I’ve watched a few games, just never played.”
“So you know you can’t pass forward?”
She nodded.
“Great start.” He tugged the ball from her. “When you pass, turn your core to face the person you’re passing to, and the right hand provides the power, the left hand just guides it. Like this.” He demonstrated the passing motion, then tossed her the ball. “Your turn.”
His stomach muscles tightened as he watched her blink rapidly, then close her eyes and draw in a long, even breath. She positioned her hands exactly as he’d shown, rotated her torso in a controlled movement, and threw the ball. It bounced along the ground and came to a stop when Hemi stepped on it.
“You’ve got it,” he said, clapping her on the back. “Now all you need to remember is to run toward the opponent’s end of the field and pass backward. Your teammates will take care of the rest. Think you can handle that?”
Her eyes were bright now, fear banished, and knowing he’d had a hand in that warmed him from the inside.
“I’m good to go, Captain.” She bumped fists with him, then spun away and skipped across the field, trying to snatch the ball from Hemi, who resisted at first, then let her take it. As soon as her hands were full, he tickled her ribcage. She bent over, gasping for breath, the ball tucked tightly in her arms, refusing to surrender.
Even while his heart lifted to see her laugh after how she’d sobbed earlier in the day, Davy’s throat went dry at the sight of her playfighting so comfortably with Hemi. He shoved his hands into his pockets.
It’s none of your business who she flirts with.
Nevertheless, his rarely-beheld redheaded temper flared as he stalked over to the others. Had anything ever happened between Evelyn and Hemi? They made an attractive couple, and were equally outgoing. No doubt Hemi was the type to appeal to her, with his unflappable self-confidence, dark good looks and Ta Moko tattoos. He certainly appealed to most of the other women in town.
“We ready to go?” Gareth asked when Davy reached them.
A chorus of yeses rang out, with a couple of cheeky ‘yes, Sergeants’ thrown in.
Gareth continued, “On my team, I’ve got Justin, Hemi, Sophie and Blake. Davy, you’ve got Cooper, Ramsay, Avery and Evie. Split up.”
The group divided in two as he’d ordered.
“Why didn’t he choose Avery for his team?” Evelyn asked once they were out of earshot. “She’s his fiancée, and super competitive.”
Davy huffed a laugh, dipped his head, and murmured in her ear, “Gaz likes it when Avery gets fired up. If they’re on different teams, he has a legitimate reason to tackle her.”
Was it his imagination, or did she lean closer?
“Oh,” she said, nodding in understanding. “Sneaky devil.”
Evie shivered. She didn’t know what strange chemical reaction was responsible, but each time Davy came near enough to touch, every muscle in her body quivered, and electric currents raced over her skin. She’d tried to ignore it during their impromptu ball-throwing lesson, but when he whispered in her ear, the sensation of his breath tickling her sensitive skin was too much, and her lips parted, a soft sigh escaping them.
Immediately, she clapped her mouth shut and pressed her lips into a firm line, eyes darting around to see if anyone had noticed. None of her team had, thank God, and though Davy watched her speculatively, he held his tongue for once in his life.
“Team huddle,” he said, and they formed a tight circle. “Here’s the plan.”
Two minutes later, feeling slightly dazed, she had even less clue about what to do than she had before. She tried to recall what Davy had said earlier. Run forward, pass back, let everyone else take care of the rest. She could do that.
The teams lined up. She found an empty patch of grass and claimed it as her own, assuming a hunch-backed position, knees bent, hands in front of her with palms facing forward. She suspected she looked ridiculous, but it would hardly be the first time, and it wouldn’t be the last. Someone whistled, and everyone leapt into action.
For the first few minutes, all she could do was run back and forth, just inside the sideline, slightly behind the person with the ball, in case they wanted to pass it. No one did. Then, only yards in front of her, Avery sprinted toward the opposing goalposts and Gareth lunged at her, grabbing her about the waist and knocking her to the ground. Avery dropped the ball and they both rolled to the side.
Before she’d even thought about doing anything, Evie had swooped in and grabbed the ball, squealing in surprise as Hemi tried to tackle it from her. She stumbled over her own feet, righted herself, and then she was flying across the field, exhilaration giving her wings. That was when she realized: nobody was going to catch her. She might be small, but she was speedy, and she’d had a good head start. Feet thundered in the background, gaining on her, but she’d nearly reached the end. She knew what to do. She’d seen dozens of All Blacks in this same position, even if she’d never dreamed she’d be here herself. Keeping low, she launched herself over the back line, touching the ball down as she skidded across the lush grass.
“Yes!” she cried, rising to her knees and whooping with excitement. “I did it!”
Sophie jogged to her side and high-fived her.
“Hey,” Gareth yelled. “We don’t congratulate the enemy.”
Sophie rolled her eyes, and tugged Evie to her feet. “Nice work.”
Avery slung an arm around her shoulders. “Go, you.”
Davy held his hands out for the ball, and Evie threw it to him, pleased when it didn’t veer too far off course.
“Not too shabby, newbie,” he called. “Now the rest of you scram, so I can score us a conversion.”
The girls hurried out of his way and Evie exchanged high-fives with Cooper and Ramsay as she rejoined her team. Play resumed, and she grinned until her cheeks ached, feeling lighter than she had in weeks.