Unguarded by Tracy Wolff Page B

something to be said for the feel of well-used muscles at the end of a workout session.
    â€œNow, hitting a ball really isn’t that hard,” Shawn said as he lined her up directly across from the batting machine.
    â€œThey sure make it look hard in the major leagues.” She held her bat to her shoulder and got ready to hit.
    â€œThat’s because they’re trying to hit off professional pitchers. I’ve got the machine set on slow pitches, so you shouldn’t have any problem.” He took a step back, looked at her, then shook his head with a laugh. “Okay,you wouldn’t have any problem if you actually knew how to hold a bat.”
    â€œI know how to hold a bat!” she exclaimed, insulted.
    â€œIf you say so.” He moved behind her and placed his hands on her hips. Her heart started beating triple-time, and the urge to flee—and to fight—was so strong within her that it took all her concentration not to act on it.
    It’s okay, she told herself. It’s just Shawn. You’re safe. You’re fine. It’s just Shawn. He won’t hurt you. You’re safe. She repeated the words to herself over and over again until they became her mantra, the one thing she could hold on to as the world around her pitched and rocked.
    â€œYou’ll have a much better shot of hitting the ball if you turn a little more to your right,” Shawn continued, oblivious to her panic. She must be getting better at hiding the freak-outs—six months before, there was no way anyone could have missed her as she started to lose it.
    â€œNow, choke up a little on the bat…” He continued speaking in a slow, easy tone that did more to ease her worry than anything else could have and by the time he finally moved away from her, Rhiannon not only had herself back under control, but she had a pretty decent batting stance, as well.
    â€œI’m going to turn the machine on now,” Shawn called as he headed toward the other side of the cage. “Just relax and let yourself swing at the pitches. Have fun.”
    Squatting down like he’d told her, Rhiannon held the bat up and prepared to connect with the ball as themachine fired. She waited, waited, then swung right when the ball was in what Shawn referred to as “the sweet spot.” She waited to hear the crack of bat meeting ball, and was shocked when she realized the ball had hit the fence behind her.
    â€œThat’s okay. Don’t worry about it. Try swinging about one second earlier.”
    She did as he suggested, and still the ball soared right by her. Again and again, until Rhiannon was sweaty and more than a little frustrated and Shawn was trying his best not to laugh.
    â€œMaybe baseball’s not your game,” he said with a grin. “We can go do something else if you’d like.”
    â€œTurn the machine back on,” she snapped. “I’m going to hit one of these balls if it kills me.”
    â€œAre you sure? I didn’t mean to—”
    She glared at him. “Are you going to turn that thing back on or am I?”
    â€œAll right, all right. But maybe you should loosen up a little, take off your coat. It’s a bit tight and might be preventing you from swinging through.”
    â€œYeah, that’s what’s preventing me from hitting. My too-tight coat, not my complete lack of talent at the sport.”
    â€œStill. Try it and see if it helps. God knows, it couldn’t hurt.”
    She narrowed her eyes at him, even as she shrugged out of her coat and tossed it on the ground. “You know, payback’s a bitch.”
    â€œI’m looking forward to it.”
    She grabbed the bat and got ready to hit, or try to hit. “Go ahead. Turn that stupid thing back on.”
    But Shawn didn’t move, didn’t so much as acknowledge that he’d heard her. Wondering what had distracted him, she followed his gaze with her own, then cursed under