Seduction Tia's shoulders were bare, the milky, abundant flesh pressing hard against the straps of her softball tank top, inches from his sweaty body. But it was the proximity of her irrepressible hips that made Alonso move his linen napkin to his lap in an attempt to cover up the rising bulge there. She wasn't looking at him, thankfully, as she relived the evening's triple play for everyone's amusement at the pub booth. He tried very hard not to look at her. Or at least not to look like he was looking at her. The Growlers were formed on the internet, like many informal softball teams. Nobody knew each other outside of the team, but they spent a fair amount of time together. Their stories were similar: Athletic types not quite good enough for the pros or even the minors, drawn to office work for the money, yet missing the thrill of the game they had enjoyed in school. Most were married, including Tia and Alonso, but the spouses seldom showed, shooing the weekend w...