Bang! A puff of white smoke marked where her grenade had fallen. Griffin stared at the smoke, his jaw as hard as the concrete safety pit around them. She would take that as approval.

Jojo was the first to speak. “Dang, Tate. That’s a solid thirty meters out. Good arm you’ve got there. Not like mine, of course, but not half bad.” The guy said that as if she, Anna, and Lily weren’t all outstanding athletes. Sherri bit back a sarcastic comeback.

She glanced sidelong at Griffin, trying to not look too smug. But she probably failed.

He simply turned and climbed out of the pit, heading for the parked Jeeps. She scrambled to catch up and tagged along beside him. After all, they were swim buddies and required to go everywhere together. As he reached into the back of the Jeep for a wooden box, she couldn’t resist poking. “Aww, c’mon. That was a decent throw. Admit it.”

He hefted the crate onto his shoulder and headed for the safety pit at the right end of the line, farthest from everyone else. His jaw muscles had yet to relax after her throw.

“What’s in the box, Santa Claus?”

“Inert grenades weighted to feel exactly like live ones,” Griffin answered shortly. Poor man hated it when she succeeded at anything.

“Get used to it, big guy. Girls are coming soon to a team near you.”

He set the box down outside the safety pit, and she stepped inside ahead of him. Her foot kicked what felt like a rock, and she glanced down. “Oh, look. There’s a grenade on the ground in here.”

She bent down to pick it up, and out of nowhere, Griffin grabbed her T-shirt and yanked her backward, propelling her clear of the pit. He threw her so hard she flew a good ten feet through the air, landing flat on her back. Then his entire body weight smashed down on top of her. The impact drove all the air from her lungs. She tried to inhale, but nothing happened. Crap.

As panic slammed into her, a tremendous explosion deafened her.

Kaboom!

Griffin grunted on top of her.

She stared up at him at a range measured in inches, and he stared back.

“Y’okay?” he bit out.

At last, she was able to suck in a meaningful lungful of air. “Uh-huh,” she gasped. “You?”

“I’m good.”

Their bodies were mashed together in a blatantly sexual fashion, his thighs between hers, his junk pressed against her lady parts. She knew the exact moment when her body and their position registered on him, because his eyes widened abruptly. Just as suddenly, his expression took on a hooded intensity that made her breath come unevenly.

“What was that?” she managed to choke out. “The explosion, I mean.”

“Live grenade. You activated it when you kicked it.”

“Oops.” She added lamely, “Sorry.”