Tomboy

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Tomboy Page 18

by Avery Flynn


  Fallon laughed and shook her head as if this was all par for the course when it came to the Hartigans. “Did he tell you I helped pick out the ring?”

  “You did?” Kate asked. “That does not sound like my favorite tomboy’s thing.”

  “Well, that girlie-girl stuff is definitely not me, but neither is Frankie helping Felicia pick out a date-night dress to wear, so I guess when it comes to the people we love, we do whatever it takes.”

  “Of course,” Kate said as if it was ridiculous to even question it. “We’re Hartigans.”

  Another cheer went up on the other side of the room as Faith, Fiona, and Gina gave Lucy huge hugs while Frankie received a million hard back slaps from his brothers. What hit Zach right between the eyes as he watched them was just how genuinely happy everyone was for one another. He could practically feel the shared joy like a warm blast of air on his skin.

  The closest thing he’d ever experienced had been the night he’d been drafted, and even then, the excitement was infused with a hefty dose of “we’ll finally get ours now” from his parents. And the kicker was, he’d thought that was just the way families worked—everything was transactional. Growing up, it had been the camaraderie with teams he’d played on, the bond he’d experienced with the other guys on the ice, that he’d thought had been an outlier, not his family. However, watching the Hartigans was like looking through a window at the way things should have been.

  “And now that you’re practically family, Zach,” Kate said, pulling him back to the here and now, “you’ve got to join us in the toast. You like whisky, right? Frank’s gone down to the basement to get the good stuff.” She powered on as if she hadn’t even asked him a question. “Who knows, maybe you two can get a move on things and make it a double wedding.”

  Fallon gasped, her face turning a blotchy red. “Mom!”

  “What?” Kate shrugged. “Like I’m the only one who’s noticed how you two are together. When you know, you know. Your father and I got married less than four months after we met, and look at us now. Plus…” She paused as she unbuttoned her cardigan and showed off a T-shirt with #TeamZuck written on it in fancy font. “There’s this. How could I not buy it?”

  He’d read the posts, seen the comments (mostly good with a few would-it-kill-her-to-look-more-like-a-woman-should ones that made him want to punch the assholes who wrote them), and rolled his eyes at the hashtag. Still, seeing Kate Hartigan in a #TeamZuck shirt should have taken everything to a whole new level of get-me-the-fuck-out-of-here, but it didn’t. Instead, he was having too much fun watching Fallon turn shades of red he didn’t even know existed to worry about the fact that her mom was angling for them to more than hook up.

  Fallon covered her face with her hands and let out a loud, horrified groan. “We need to make a dollar jar for all of the awkward things you say,” she said, her words coming out muffled from behind her long fingers tipped with short, unpainted nails.

  “Are you trying to encourage me?” Kate said as she buttoned her cardigan without even an ounce of shame or embarrassment. “I’d use all the money I put in there to finally get your dad to go to Italy with me. Could you imagine all the delicious food we’d eat?”

  “You should come with Hudson and me next time, Mom,” the youngest Hartigan, Felicia, said when she and her fiancé wandered into the conversation.

  “Then who would watch your devil cat?” Finn asked, handing glasses of whisky neat to Zach, Kate, and Fallon.

  The cat in question sat perched on the top of a high-backed chair, totally ignoring the French bulldog doing everything in its power, from little yapping barks to pitiful whining, to try to gain its attention.

  “That would be you, Finian, since you obviously are going to be needing the company soon when Fallon moves out,” Felicia said, pushing up her eyeglasses and giving a look that just dared Zach to contradict her.

  “Enough, you two,” Kate said. “Your dad’s about to give a toast.”

  They all turned toward the family patriarch, who stood next to Frank and Lucy.

  “I was a firefighter with absolutely no plans of settling down when I met your mother. Love may be patient, and love may be kind, but it’s also an inconvenient pain in the ass sometimes. Love had other ideas, and falling for her was the best thing that had ever happened to me. Lucy, I don’t know what you were thinking when you said yes to this guy here because, let’s face it, like my Kate, you could do a million times better than to marry a Hartigan.” He paused while everyone—including Frankie—laughed. “But welcome to the family. I wish the both of you all of the happiness Kate and I have had, plus more.” He raised his glass. “To Frankie and Lucy.”

  The whisky didn’t burn like Zach had expected when he sipped it. It had a warm, spicy smoothness that went down like velvet. “Wow, that’s good.”

  “Never doubt the Irish when it comes to good whisky.” Fallon slipped her hand into his, intertwining their fingers. “And I’m so sorry about my mom. I had no idea she’d gotten that shirt.”

  Keeping an eye on everyone, Zach maneuvered Fallon into a narrow hallway off the living room, one with a huge plant in it that practically hid them from view. Her back was pressed against the wall, and he stood in front of her, so close they were almost touching. This was not a good idea, being this near to her when he couldn’t touch her the way he liked. There were a billion Hartigans only a few feet away, but he didn’t care—not when Fallon was looking at him like she wasn’t sure if she wanted to bang him or run away. Because he knew exactly which option he’d pick.

  Dipping his head down, he brushed his lips across the shell of her ear. “Are you saying you’re not #TeamZuck?”

  …

  #TeamZuck? At this moment, Fallon was #TeamTakeMeNow, even though she was at her parents’ house in the middle of an impromptu engagement party. She had lost all self-control. That was what being around this man did to her.

  “It’s a horrible name,” she said. She needed to move, get some space between them, but her feet had mutinied along with her hormones. “It sounds like Team Suck.”

  One side of his mouth curled upward. How was it that she thought he was such an asshole grump before? Obviously, she’d been confused, because Zach Blackburn was all soft, except where he was so very, very hard.

  His kissed his way down her neck. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  It wasn’t fair, and he had to know it. Hell, he was playing this distraction game like a pro, and it took everything she had to remember that her family was just on the other side of her mom’s biggest philodendron.

  “This is fun.” She exhaled a shaky breath as her nipples hardened, desperate for the kind of attention her neck was getting. “But it wouldn’t work out.”

  That stopped him. He took a step back, which was a blessing even if her whole body let out a collective fuck-you to her for stopping the fun.

  Crossing his arms over his chest, he asked, “Why not?”

  For so many reasons, most of which had to do with her liking him so much it scared the shit out of her, which there was no way in hell she’d admit out loud. She had to go with something, though, because she could tell by the determined set to his jaw that he wasn’t going to give up on this. Luckily, that dumb hashtag gave her the perfect thing to point to.

  “I’ve seen the kind of women you usually date.” She’d seen the pics. He used to get snapped with super-hot, could-have-been-a-model types, like the Rage fan who’d tried to poison him. “That’s not me. I don’t wear skirts and high heels. I’m not into makeup, or having my hair done, and the idea of getting a manicure gives me the shivers. I don’t flirt, and I don’t keep my opinions to myself to safeguard someone else’s ego.”

  “You also wouldn’t poison my muffins just so you can play nursemaid.”

  “And that brings up another thing. You’re on the road all the time and those hot, sexy women are going to throw themselves at you.”

  His eyes went wide. “You think I’d cheat o
n you?”

  Yeah, the idea of that turned the very good Irish whisky in her stomach into battery acid. “No, but I think there would be comparisons, and I’d be found lacking.” She rubbed her stomach, trying to make the ache and the sense of loss go away. “I’m not getting a makeover to fit better into your world.”

  “Did I ask you to?” he whisper-shouted.

  She shook her head. “No.”

  “Good, because I’d hate for us to be confused on that point. A makeover is the last thing in the world you need. Those assholes on social media don’t have a fucking clue what they’re talking about.” He closed the distance between them again, his hands resting on her jean-clad hips. “However, I will say the skirt thing is kind of a bummer. It’s not about how it would look—although I love your legs—but for efficiency. It would be so much easier to touch you right now and show my appreciation for just how fucking hot you are if you were in a skirt.”

  And BAM! her entire perspective about skirts changed.

  “My whole family is just on the other side of that overgrown potted plant.” Did that sound like a regretful whine to him? That’s sure as hell what it sounded like to her own ears.

  “Don’t worry, you’re safe with me,” he said, looking at her as if she was anything but—at least when it came to keeping her clothes on. “But don’t think I’m fooled by that BS you just threw my way. That was a deke.”

  Damn. She should have known better. “I’m not trying to use a fake move to throw you off.”

  “I think you are, and here’s why. We’ve been thinking about this whole thing all wrong.” His grip on her hips tightened, and he lowered his face close to hers. “Today wasn’t our first date, it was just our latest.”

  “Were the others so exciting that I totally forgot about them already?” she asked, desperate to hold on to her sanity before she jumped him in the hallway of her parents’ house.

  “Smart-ass.” He gave her a kiss, sliding his lips across hers and twisting his tongue around hers in a quick, ruthless tease meant to tune her up without giving her any way to get off. “We’ve been dating for weeks, but we were both too chicken to call it that.”

  It was hard to form any kind of argument when such a delicious ache had started in her core, making her breath catch and her heart race. Desire, hot and demanding, had her burning with want. Wearing a skirt suddenly seemed like, not a good idea, but the best idea ever. All she wanted was to feel him against her, easing that sense of need making her wet.

  “You’re reading too much into it.” Her hungry gaze dropped to his hard cock pressing against his jeans. She licked her lips, imagining how good it would be if they were somewhere else and she could just slip down to her knees and take him deep in her mouth. But they weren’t, and she couldn’t, so she forced herself to keep going. “I was just acting like your Lady Luck so you could give yourself permission to love the game again and play it like you know you can.”

  He lifted a pierced eyebrow. “Wrong again.”

  “I’m never wrong.”

  Zach was looking at her as if he’d figured out how to make her come just by glancing her way. The expression on his face should have been illegal. It probably was.

  “You are wrong.” He pulled her close, his cock pressing against her stomach, and lowered his voice, made gravelly with want. “Because the woman who came all over my dick the other day wasn’t doing it so I could score a goal. She was doing it because she likes me as much as I like her.” He rocked against her. “And I like her a lot, more than I probably should.”

  That sizzle in her head? It was the sound of the last threads of her resistance getting fried like a moth in a bug zapper. She liked this man, more than liked him really, and what kind of chickenshit wimp was she if she didn’t at least go for it?

  A loud rustling sounded from the Philodendron, enough noise that she couldn’t help but look over in that direction. There was nothing there but the huge plant; however, her sister Fiona’s loud whisper came from the other side.

  “You two have about three seconds before Mom figures out where you snuck off to, so pull it together.”

  Fallon moved to put some space between them before they got busted, but Zach wasn’t going anywhere. The man had an advantage right now, and he knew it. Really, she’d be disappointed if he didn’t press it.

  “Admit it,” he said. “You’re #TeamZuck.”

  Was she currently the same temperature of the sun because she was so turned on or because her mom was going to discover them at any second? Both, definitely both. “Let’s just get through this party and then we can talk about it later.”

  He gave her a quick kiss. “I’m holding you to that.”

  He took a step back just as her mom rounded the massive houseplant.

  “There you are. Come on,” Kate said, giving them a narrow-eyed you’re-not-fooling-anyone look. “Your brother wants to toast his soon-to-be-bride.”

  They followed behind her mom, holding hands and no doubt both giving off guilty-as-hell vibes. It didn’t matter, though: all eyes were on the happy couple at the front of the room while all Fallon could do was think about how quickly she could get Zach away from here and them both out of their clothes.

  Chapter Twenty

  It had taken approximately four hundred years, but he and Fallon had finally snuck out of the Hartigans’ house after giving one more congratulations hug to Lucy and Frankie. They’d driven the few blocks to Fallon’s place like two teenagers sneaking out to screw.

  The house she shared with Finn was a cute place that, unlike Zach’s house, had furniture and actually looked like someone lived there.

  “Hold on, I’ll be right back,” she said with a mysterious smile and left him in the living room almost as soon as they walked in. “I just wanna grab your hoodie real quick.”

  She was gone down the hallway before he could stop her.

  He didn’t give two shits about the hoodie. All he wanted was to get her back to his house so they could get naked. One-track mind? Him? Hell, yeah. But when she’d asked to stop at her place, he wasn’t about to say no. He seemed to have a hard time of that when it came to her, plus he wasn’t above getting a peek at another aspect of her life.

  If someone would have told him six months ago that he not only would have attended two fundraisers for a free clinic along with a paintball fun day with his teammates and enjoyed all three events, he would have laughed in their face. Then he probably would have told them to fuck off. Yeah, he’d definitely earned his nickname.

  Doing laps around the living room while he waited for Fallon, he checked out the family photos on the fireplace mantle. There were pictures of trips to theme parks when the kids were all still in school, another of a family BBQ, and then there was one of Fallon at her nursing school graduation. She was standing next to a guy, and they had their arms wrapped around each other’s waists. While Fallon was looking straight at the camera, the guy was looking at her. Zach ground his teeth together and fisted his hands at his side as an unfamiliar raw-edged annoyance zipped through him. Zach didn’t know who the dude was, but he didn’t like him.

  Jealous much?

  When it came to Fallon, yeah, it turned out he was.

  “Found it,” Fallon said, pulling his attention away from the photo and over to the other end of the living room.

  He took one look at her then offered up a thank-you to the universe that he was in good shape because otherwise he might have had a heart attack right there. Fallon stood just beyond the entrance to the hall wearing his Ice Knights hoodie and nothing else. He’d spent a lot of time on the road thinking about how she’d look in just his hoodie. His imagination hadn’t done her justice.

  It came down to just below her ass, giving him the perfect view of her long, strong legs. The fact that it puffed out around her, hiding everything between her shoulders and her ass, just made him want to peel it off of her and reveal what was underneath.

  He let out a breath he hadn’t reali
zed he’d been holding. “Please tell me your brother isn’t coming home tonight.”

  She played with the strings hanging down from the hood, a sexy little vixen smirk playing on her lips. “I told him to couch surf at Fiona’s.”

  “Thank God,” he said, crossing over to her, the need to be near her, touch her, have her overwhelming everything else. “Because I’m not sure I could do you quietly after seeing you in that.”

  “Why?” she asked in what he would only think of from this day forward as her Naughty Nurse voice. “Are you feeling uncomfortable?”

  “That’s one way to describe it.”

  “Can you describe your symptoms to me?”

  He took her hand and placed it on his chest. “My heart is hammering.”

  “I see.” She nodded, her pink tongue wetting her lips.

  “It’s hard to breathe.” He guided her hand lower, stopping just above his jeans.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “I’ve got a hard ache right here.” He lowered her palm and pressed it to his aching cock.

  She lightly squeezed him. “Perhaps some massage?”

  “That might help.” Or it might kill him, but he’d die a happy man.

  “I think I need to do an exam.” She sank down to her knees. “If you’ll press your palms against the wall and follow my directions.”

  He did exactly what she asked as his entire body tensed and hardened, tightened by a rush of lust and something more that nearly had him on his knees. This wasn’t just play anymore. It wasn’t a game. It sure as hell wasn’t just for fun. They’d crossed a line, and he didn’t want to go back.

  Her hands went to the button of his jeans, but her gaze stayed on his as she slipped it free and then lowered his zipper. “Don’t move.”

  Hell, he couldn’t even remember how to breathe at the moment, so he wasn’t worried about breaking the no-moving rule. Leaning forward, she used her hot mouth to trace the line of his happy trail as she worked his jeans and underwear down his legs.

 

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