Muffin Top

by Avery Flynn

  “He’s just watching out for me.” Still, she didn’t look at him. “Doesn’t want me making the same assumption that he did with my mom.”

  As if all of the nonverbals she was sending him weren’t enough to make the back of his neck itchy with dread, the fact that she’d mentioned her mother sure was. The tightness around her eyes and the way tension filled her voice whenever she talked about her mom was more than enough to let him know that the comparison wasn’t a good one.

  “What assumption was that?”

  “That it was possible to change other people.” She let out a tortured sigh and pivoted her gaze from the sailboats in the harbor to him. A red spot had bloomed at the base of her throat. “The truth of it is that you can only change yourself—for good or for bad.”

  And that’s what it came down to for him. Would he be able to change what seemed pre-ordained? Could he avoid being the man who seemed so straightforward on the surface but cheated on his wife when no one was looking? For Lucy, he wanted to. Nothing else was good enough for her. He wouldn’t be good enough for her. The French toast that had tasted so delicious a half hour ago turned into a lead weight in his gut.

  “So what happened with your parents?”

  She pushed what was left of her breakfast around on her plate with her fork. “Long story.”

  “I’ve got time.” He had forever when it came to Lucy—at least he hoped he did.

  She laid her fork down on her plate and dropped her hands to her lap, clutching them together as if she needed to hold onto something. “They met young, and there was this whole opposites-attract thing. He was the nerdy psychiatrist, and she was the sexy underwear model. Total freak meeting on a cross-country train trip. They started in Harbor City and by the time they got to Los Angeles, they were in love. They got married in Vegas.”

  She inhaled a deep breath and let in out in a slow, controlled breath.

  “It was a total whirlwind—one that probably never had a chance at a happily ever after. By the time I started grade school, they were basically living different lives, with him operating his practice and her flying off to Harbor City and Paris for modeling jobs. All that separation didn’t help things, nor did having a chubby kid, which was anathema to my mom’s world.

  “That seemed to be what really broke things up, at least according to what I overheard my mom telling her friends during one of my very rare trips to visit her in Harbor City. It’s why she always kept her distance, why when I did visit we never went anywhere but her apartment, and why the only photos she had of me were always cropped so you never saw all of me beyond my face shot from an upward angle to slim me down a bit. Could you imagine having a child you were that ashamed of?”

  His gut clenched as he watched her chin tremble. Then she quickly turned her face away from him and began to blink away the moisture in her eyes that she hadn’t been fast enough to hide. Frankie knew it wasn’t right to think ill of the dead, but Lucy’s mom was a right royal bitch for ever putting that thought in an impressionable girl’s head. He was up before he thought about it, standing next to her and drawing her up.

  “Their divorce wasn’t your fault,” he said, pulling her into his arms.

  She laid her head on his shoulder, and a small sigh escaped. “But I didn’t help.”

  “People’s actions and reactions are on them, not on you,” he said, pulling her in close and holding her tight for all the times her mom should have but didn’t. “Your dad was right. You can’t change other people, only yourself.”

  They stayed that way long enough for it to turn from comforting to something else as her nimble fingers snuck under the hem of his shirt and started to explore his lower back. “Smart and sexy, you’re a double threat, Frankie Hartigan.”

  “Correction,” he said, picking her up and carrying her inside. “I’m a triple threat—and the fact that you failed to mention that means I need to give you a reminder course in the bedroom so you don’t forget again.”

  And they almost made it all of the way there before they’d lost all their clothes.

  …

  After their breakfast, which had left her kitchen a disaster, and her day-long lesson in orgasms, flirty text exchanges were pretty much the highlight of her days at work. On the nights he wasn’t on shift, the texting usually ended with Frankie knocking on her door, armed with dinner or his Netflix password. They never seemed to make it out of her apartment, but considering how quickly they usually got naked, she didn’t give it much thought.

  She’d had to cancel tonight, though, after Zach Blackburn, got arrested for punching out a fan—well, not one of his, obviously—and Lucy had to go earn the big bucks. Well, medium-sized bucks. Peon bucks compared to the millions Zach was bringing home if she could get him out of his latest snafu—which put her at odds with Frankie’s schedule, since he was still taking a few extra shifts to cover for the guy who’d gotten injured.

  Frankie: Still on that bed with your legs wide?

  Lucy: I wish. I’m still in the office. It’s gonna be a really late and professionally frustrating Friday night. Sorry.

  Frankie: They never should have signed that jackass.

  Lucy: Don’t you start, I need someone in my corner.

  Frankie: I’m always there.

  Lucy: xo

  Frankie: See you at Gina’s and Ford’s party Saturday?

  Lucy: With bells on.

  Frankie: That gives me some new ideas to curl up with while I’m missing you.

  Lucy: Got a lot of those?

  Frankie: So many I had to start a list. Hope you have the next few months open.

  Lucy: Perfect motivation to get Zach back on Harbor City’s good side.

  Frankie: Good luck with that.

  Lucy: My six-pack of Mountain Dew just got here. Armed and ready to go do battle.

  Frankie: Kick their asses and leave them scared.

  Lucy: Always.

  Okay, not always, but her track record was solid.

  “One of your media sources send you good news?” Zach asked from his spot in what he called the naughty chair in the corner of her office farthest away from her desk.

  “No, why do you ask?” she asked, checking the messages on her phone again in hopes of a silver lining to this shit cloud.

  “Because you usually only look that happy when you’ve fixed whatever I fucked up.”

  Lucy focused her attention on the tatted-up, bearded player who, despite what the tabloids said about him, was actually a big teddy bear—one with a mean right hook and an even worse temper. Okay, so maybe teddy bear was the wrong description. Maybe grizzly bear napping? Very cute until someone woke it up, then a fucking nightmare.

  “Maybe, Zachary Elliot Blackburn,” she said, using his full name, which always managed to stop even her most pain-in-the-ass clients in their tracks, “if you stop being such a jackhole, you wouldn’t be needing my services so much.”

  He stuffed almost the entire white cheddar rice cake into his mouth. “Can I just buy you season tickets instead?” he asked, the words coming out barely understandable.

  “Instead?” She chuckled, guffawed, threw back her head and laughed, playing it up to really let the defenseman know how annoyed she was with his antics. “You’re funny. Zach, you’re paying my full fee and getting me season tickets, too. Be warned, I have a large group of friends, so you’re gonna need to set me up with at least eight tickets.”

  “And people say I’m the shark,” he said, shaking his head.

  “Only on the ice, my friend.” Her phone buzzed with an incoming message from one of the reporters at the Harbor City Post, who’d agreed to do a humanizing profile now as long as he got an exclusive at a later date that was more than a sit-down, but really gave new insights into the most hated man in town. “I own the rest of the ocean.”

  It wasn’t until two in the morning that she put Zach’s latest mess to bed and slid between the sheets so exhausted that she was asleep before her head hit the pillow.
It had been easier in Antioch where their schedules had always meshed. Now they were back to her nine-to-five—in the morning or evening, depending on the size of that day’s shitstorm—and he was back at the firehouse. He’d be on a twenty-four-hour shift starting at seven Sunday morning, but at least they’d have all day Saturday leading up to the engagement party BBQ.

  The whole situation and its echo of her opposites-attract parents’ marriage was giving her that itchy sense of feeling like the other shoe was about to drop any minute.

  Saturday morning, she woke up to the sound of her phone vibrating on her bedside table. She couldn’t help but grin. Someone was excited to see her again.

  But the message on the screen wasn’t from Frankie.

  Tess: Calling in a 911. Anderson just quit without notice and walked out. I have a bazillion deliveries scheduled today and can’t be doing those and working the register at the same time. Help!!!

  Oh, that was beyond an emergency. Just the idea of super-introverted Tess having to deal with the public by doing deliveries from her florist shop had Lucy out of her bed in half a heartbeat. God bless her bestie, the woman hated dealing with people she didn’t know well, and the result was a mix of cringeworthy embarrassing factoids, like the fact that an elephant’s penis is six and a half feet long, or compulsions, like her need to count the number of tiles in someone’s kitchen.

  Lucy and Gina found Tess’s quirks to be pretty fucking awesome and lovable, but people receiving bouquets for funerals or graduations rarely wanted to know the average diameter of the human eye (one inch). Tess didn’t have family to fall back on or a big-ass inheritance, she needed her flower shop to be successful if she wanted to, you know, pay her rent.

  Lucy: On my way. Will take deliveries.

  Tess: I love you so hard.

  Lucy: You’ll owe me.

  Tess: Add it to my tab.

  While she was brushing her teeth ten minutes later, she grabbed her phone to see if Frankie had messaged. He should be off shift by now. No luck. Good thing she wasn’t the kind of woman who felt the need to wait for a man to take action.

  Lucy: Bestie emergency (Tess not Gina). Acting as flower delivery goddess until BBQ. See you tonight!

  She waited, staring at her phone. No text bubble with the three little dots appeared. He was probably asleep. It might have been a busy night. She hadn’t seen any news this morning about any big fires, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything.

  She’d see him tonight. Everything would be just like it had been a week ago in Antioch. No reason for her heart to be doing that speed-up-and-dive-straight-down-to-her-toes thing. Everything was fine, perfectly fine. And if she kept repeating that to herself, maybe that other shoe would stay lodged wherever it was.

  Chapter Twenty

  Frankie sat behind Scarlett’s wheel while parked in his driveway and honked the horn for a third time. He had no fucking clue what was up with Finian, but he needed to get his ass in gear already.

  The passenger door flew open, and Finn slid into the passenger seat. “Asshole, relax.”

  Frankie was reversing down the drive before his brother had even finished fastening his seatbelt. “We were supposed to be there ten minutes ago.”

  “And when did you get all antsy about being on time for anything but your shift at the firehouse?” Finn asked, then smacked the heel of his hand hard against his forehead. “Oh wait. I know the answer to that, and it’s as soon as you got home from your”—he held up his hand and made air quotes—“‘just friends’ trip to the middle of nowhere Missouri.”

  “Shut it, Finn.”

  “No fucking way, this is too much fun. So how is your”—more air quotes—“just friend, Lucy?”

  Like he was going to tell him. He could barely think about how fucking lucky he was with Lucy. Truth was, he was scared shitless of doing anything to fuck it up, so keeping everything on the down low just made more sense. If no one knew about him and Lucy, how could he fuck it up?

  Stuck at a stoplight, he glared at his mirror image—well, if he had dark hair, no freckles, and was a full half inch shorter. “You know everyone thinks I’m the hotter twin.”

  “No worries,” Finn said with a shrug. “I’m the mysterious one—everyone always wonders about me.”

  The light turned, and Frankie floored it. “Just because they have no clue what an annoying weirdo you are.”

  He drove the last few blocks to Marino’s accompanied by his brother’s laugh. He sounded like a hyena after it had taken sixteen hits off a helium balloon. Seriously, it was a weird-ass sound coming from someone who looked like he spent his days cutting down trees in a forest to build a log cabin from scratch. How some women found the sound attractive, Frankie had no idea. Not that he cared. Finn could have his pick of the women in Waterbury. Frankie only wanted one, and as soon as he found a parking spot in Marino’s crowded lot he was going to get see her.

  Normally, he tooled around a parking lot a few times to find the most protected spot for Scarlett. Tonight? He pulled into the first spot he laid eyes on and killed the engine. Ignoring the oh-really look his twin was sending him, he got out of the car and hustled across the parking lot to Marino’s beer garden behind the bar, which had been reserved for Gina’s and Ford’s engagement party.

  He spotted Lucy right away.

  How could he not when she was wearing his favorite color and looking face-of-the-sun hot? Of course, it took longer to get to her than the drive from Antioch to Waterbury.

  First, he had to say hello to every member of his family—and there were a million of them. Then, he had to wind through the equally huge number of Gina’s family members. Even her brothers had flown in from a still-undisclosed location to surprise their sister. Finally, he got to where she stood with Gina and Tess, who gave him and Lucy a bemused look and started whispering in each other’s ears.

  “Hey there,” he said, leaning in close because there was really no way he couldn’t.

  She looked up at him and smiled. “Hello yourself.”

  Holy hell. Every nerve in his body was attuned to her as if he was a volcano about to erupt, and if he didn’t do something to relieve the pressure and soon, things were going to get really graphic in the middle of his by-the-book brother’s engagement party.

  “I need your help real quick,” he said, grabbing her hand and pulling her toward Marino’s main building. “I need to ask you a question about Gina’s and Ford’s wedding gift.”

  Yeah, that didn’t pass the smell test, but he didn’t care. His only concern was getting her somewhere private. They made it as far as through Marino’s door and into a dark, empty hallway. Spinning her around so her back was to the wall next to the supply closet door, he put his hands on the wall on either side of her and went in for one kiss. At least that’s all it was supposed to be. The minute his lips touched hers though, one kiss turned into a dozen long, drawn-out, breath-stealing, mind-melting, dick-hardening kisses that made the rest of the world disappear—and he never wanted it to end.

  The insistent tap on his shoulder had other ideas. He broke the kiss, tore his gaze away from Lucy’s beautiful, slightly kiss-dazed face, and got ready to tear a new one in whichever one of his brothers had the balls to interrupt.

  The person standing behind him wasn’t one of his brothers, though; it wasn’t even a relation. Shannon the bartender, his former good-time companion.

  “Sorry to interrupt,” Shannon said with a friendly smile.

  “No worries.” Lucy started smoothing her hair in that way that women did when they were trying to get themselves back in order. “We were just saying hello.”

  “Huh,” Shannon said, amusement plain in her tone. “Usually I just wave.”

  Then she stepped past Frankie now that he wasn’t blocking the hall and went into the supply closet.

  Lucy’s cheeks were an adorable shade of pink when she looked at him and attempted to give him a censuring look. “You are forever messing up my lipstick, Fr
ankie Hartigan.”

  And he didn’t feel even the least bit bad about it. “Can’t help it,” he said, dipping his head down so his lips were practically touching the shell of her ear. “There’s just something about that mouth of yours that is begging for someone to kiss it hard and good.”

  One of her dark eyebrows shot upward, and she gave him one of those looks that he knew meant nothing but the best kind of naked trouble. “I know other parts of me that could use a kiss, too.”

  Like every single inch of her? “Can we leave yet?”

  She shook her head and smiled. “Not even close.”

  “Damn, I was afraid you were going to say that.”

  Normally, he loved his family and hanging out with them was one of his favorite things. However, tonight he would have pushed them out into the ocean on a raft if that meant a night alone with Lucy.

  Yeah. He was pretty damn messed up over her. He’d fallen for her somewhere between Waterbury and Antioch. Hell, he’d fallen for her somewhere between his garage and the end of his driveway. For the first time in his life, he was in love, and all he wanted to do was spend time alone—and hopefully naked, but not was okay, too—with her.

  Lucy raised herself on her tiptoes, necessary even in those ridiculously sexy red heels she had on, and brushed a kiss on his cheek. “I’ll be right back,” she said before slipping away into the women’s bathroom.

  All he could do was stand there like an idiot staring at the closed door she’d gone through. Why? Because he was fucking petrified that he’d fuck it all up—and that’s what made his palms clammy and his gut twist. His entire adult life had been spent protecting people—his family, the people of Waterbury, everyone who crossed his path. What good would he be if he failed to protect the one woman he never ever wanted to hurt?

  “On your left,” Shannon called out before walking toward him with a stack of bar towels that there was no way she could see over.