Muffin Top

by Avery Flynn

  “I love you, but I have to go find Frankie.”

  “Oh,” Tess said, her shoulders sinking with relief. “That makes things so much easier.”

  “Unless she’s looking for him just to try to whack him,” Gina responded with a melodramatic evil laugh.

  “She wouldn’t be the first, and I’m just speaking for me and my siblings,” Fallon said.

  Lucy looked from one of her friends to the other. They had seriously all lost it. “How many Bloody Marys have you had today?”

  Gina’s face lit up. “None, but that’s a great idea.”

  Fallon and Tess nodded in agreement.

  Okay, there was no way she was getting dragged into whatever shenanigans this was. She was a woman on a mission. “You go ahead without me. I have to get to Frankie.”

  She loved her girls, but there was no way she was letting them slow her down. She pulled her front door shut behind her, dodged the threesome, and hightailed it for the elevator.

  “You’re not going anywhere without us,” Gina said

  The woman moved much more like a ninja than Lucy had expected.

  Nerves plucked to the very last fiber, she turned to her girls, who were walking onto the elevator with her. She counted to twenty and exhaled, reminding herself that she loved these absolutely annoying women. “Seriously, I have to get to Frankie.”

  “We know, that’s who we were kidnapping you for,” Tess said. “And that’s all we’re telling you about that until we get to Marino’s. Don’t worry, Frankie will be there.”

  And that was the last the evil little threesome would say about it, no matter how much she asked, begged, or threatened. Even when they had to drive around the block Marino’s was on three times to find a parking spot.

  Whatever was going on, the bar was packed at ten in the morning on a Sunday. Walking inside, surrounded by her girls, she scanned the crowd and saw about a million people but no sexy-as-sin, tall, ginger firefighter who could turn her panties to ash with just a look.

  …

  Frankie was going to puke his guts up.

  Okay, he wasn’t really going to do that—he hadn’t been able to eat since the whole Frankie-is-a-dumbass intervention yesterday—but his stomach was still rocking one way and shaking the other. He’d never been nervous to talk to a woman in his life. Ford had been right, everything had come too easy for him before. But getting Lucy to agree to talk to him again, let alone to give him a second chance? He was definitely going to have to work for it.

  Shannon poked her head into the supply closet. Was he hiding from Lucy so she wouldn’t walk out the door as soon as she spotted him? Hell yes, he was.

  “She just walked in, you ready?” she asked.

  He wiped his sweaty palms on the sides of his jeans. “I don’t know.”

  “Frankie Hartigan, you tripped and fell hard, didn’t you?”

  He had. So bad he probably had a concussion or twelve. “But what if you were right, and I’m not the guy anyone wants for happily ever after?”

  “Honey, you may not be the kind of guy who could deliver a happily ever after to me or a dozen other Waterbury women, but you were meant to do so for Lucy.”

  It sounded good, but it was hard to shake off the doubt that he’d fuck things up in the end. “How do you know?”

  “You get scared running into burning buildings?”

  “No.” Why did people always ask that question? With the right training, the fear didn’t factor in. “It’s more of me knowing what I need to do and doing it.”

  “Uh-huh.” Shannon brushed back her long dark braids, which had fallen forward when she nodded her head. “And using that big saw thing they call the jaws of life?”

  “Not a big deal.” It was just a tool. One that could sever a limb, sure, but it was still just a tool.

  “And showing up at the total insanity that is your family’s version of a nice Sunday lunch?”

  Okay, now that wasn’t dangerous at all. “What’s insane about my family’s lunch?”

  “Exactly. None of those things make you think twice.” She gave him a pitying smile because she must have sensed that he was totally fucking lost. “But when it comes to telling Lucy you want to be her man, you are scared out of your giant head. That’s how you know it’s important. That’s how you know you’re going to do whatever it takes to be her happily ever after—because you love her.”

  He let Shannon’s words of wisdom wash over him and register in his brain. She was right. He was freaked the fuck out, but it was for the right reasons, not because there was some part of himself still half-convinced that he wasn’t the kind of guy who could be a part of a real couple. Even more important, he was going to be a part of Lucy’s happiness.

  All he had to do was convince her that he was just the man for the job.

  That realization cut through all the bullshit worry filling up his head, and all of the nerves sending his stomach into panic mode faded away.

  “So, Frankie, are you ready?” Shannon asked, holding open the supply closet door.

  Yeah, he was. Finally.

  “Do you mind doing the honors?” He held up his phone.

  “Who’s that? And is that a dog humping a stuffed animal?”

  “It’s Lucy’s dad. I just need you to hold this up so he can watch. The dog is Gussie, and that stuffed animal is…well, that’s a discussion that requires beer.”

  Shannon shook her head and chuckled. “Nothing about that is weird at all.”

  “It’s perfectly natural for all of the creatures in the animal kingdom to have sexual urges.” Tom’s voice came out from the phone’s speaker. “And your advice right now was spot-on. I’ve always said that bartenders make the best therapists.”

  Shannon’s eyes went round, but she gave Frankie a nod and followed him out of the supply closet and out into the crowded bar.

  …

  So busy looking for Frankie, it took Lucy a minute to realize Marino’s wasn’t exactly Marino’s. As she did a slow three-sixty, her heart sped up until it was banging against her ribs like it was about to make a break for it. Processing it all was almost too much for her.

  “Frankie did this?” she asked, already knowing the answer but still too awed for that fact to make an impact.

  “Yeah he did.” Fallon nodded.

  “For you,” Tess said with a dreamy sigh.

  Gina linked her arm through Lucy’s and led her forward into the bar. “All for you.”

  And it was a lot. She gawked as they walked through the crowd. There was a cornhole contest going on in the corner. A pie-eating contest was going on at the bar. A pillowcase three-legged race was happening on the stage. It was the decathlon. He’d brought it to Waterbury.

  She turned to Gina. “How?”

  Her bestie gave her a knowing look and leaned in close so her words would carry in the crowded bar. “When it comes the Hartigan men, I’ve learned that there’s not anything they won’t do when it comes to declaring their intentions.”

  A swirl of emotions whipped through her, and she nearly collapsed in the chair marked Lucy Kavanagh at an empty table in front of the stage, which had been vacated by the racers. “That’s what this is?”

  “Don’t start crying now,” Tess said, giving Lucy’s back a quick pat before sitting down beside her.

  “Crying? I’m not…” She reached up and touched her cheeks, her fingers coming back damp.

  Shit. She never cried. But here she was, crying because Frankie Hartigan loved her.

  That’s when her shit-is-about-to-go-down alarms started blaring. She opened her mouth to ask more questions, but then the bar lights dimmed and a single spotlight illuminated the stage. She was still trying to unravel what was going on when Frankie walked into the circle of light.

  Damn he looked good. Was it wrong that that was her first thought when she saw him? Well, too bad, because it was. He wore the same suit he’d worn the night of the high school reunion dance but had added a big round but
ton to the lapel that read Job Applicant No. 1. Her pulse picked up, and the butterflies in her stomach went nuts, zooming and swooping and doing figure eights.

  “Don’t worry,” he said, looking right at her. “I’m not gonna sing.”

  Someone from the clump of Hartigans standing behind her table yelled out a good-natured “Thank God.”

  Frankie didn’t even give a half-second glance at the people behind her. He just kept looking at her. “I’m here for a job interview.”

  At his words, she clamped her jaw shut tight enough that her molars hurt, because she was not going to cry even more in front of all these people. But it wasn’t sadness making her blink faster to keep the tears away. It was the realization that if Frankie was willing to do what she thought he was about to, history—neither hers nor his—would not repeat itself. They were going to write their own story.

  Frankie crossed the stage, his long legs eating up the distance between them. Instead of jumping off and coming over to her, he reached out and handed her a piece of paper.

  “That’s my job application to be your guy, the one who’s a keeper, the one who won’t leave, who’ll stay true, who will always be there to win ridiculous decathlons with you. The one who is declaring himself totally and completely in love with you in front of God and everyone. I realize my résumé is a little thin in prior experience.”

  Still not trusting herself to speak, and quite honestly unsure if anything more than a croak would come out, considering how tight her throat was with emotion, Lucy looked down at the paper. It was blank except for one sentence made up of three words with eight letters in total that meant more than any manifesto ever could.

  “That’s because there’s only ever been one woman for me, I just hadn’t met her until now.” He took out another piece of paper from the inside of his suit jacket. This one was crumpled and torn into an irregular shape, and even from where she was sitting she could tell that things had been written and scratched out and something else written above it. “So here is what I can bring to the job of being your guy. I’m honest. I’m loyal. I can hold a fifty-pound birdbath head-high for as long as you need. I will always get your snarky sense of humor. I appreciate your ability to get right to the point of things immediately. I am worried about your Mountain Dew addiction, but I promise not to ever switch it out for its lesser cousin Mello Yello.” He looked up from the paper to gaze directly into her eyes. “And I’ll love you for the rest of my life, and I’ll never stop doing whatever I can to make you happy—because getting to be the guy that puts that gorgeous smile on your face is the most important job I’ll ever have.”

  Her hands were shaking as she got up from her seat, forgetting about Gina, Tess, and Fallon sitting at the table, Frankie’s family, and the bar full of people. The only person that mattered in that entire room was the man on the stage. He’d planned this whole thing for her. Part of her couldn’t help but think that she didn’t deserve it, or him, but that voice was all but squashed into oblivion by the strangely new sense of optimism and hope that she’d never experienced until that moment. Before Frankie, her life had centered around expecting the worst to happen and not being surprised when she got exactly what she’d expected. Now? She could only envision the possibilities and the promise of tomorrow and all the tomorrows after that, when she’d finally get the hell out of her own way and stop spouting a prophecy of doom that she had the power to change. And a certainty that all her dreams would come true if she only dared to dream them.

  She made it to the edge of the stage before reality hit. There was no way she was getting up there this way. But then two strong hands reached out and picked her up, lifting her up to the stage. Thank God Frankie didn’t let go, because if he had, she might have just melted into a puddle right there. Every one of her nerves was going crazy with his nearness, screaming at her to just throw her arms around his neck and kiss him. The man was deadly to her senses, and she would gladly spend the next eon trying to learn how to not be so fluttery around him.

  “I don’t know what to say.” Which for once in her life was the honest truth.

  He grinned down at her, skimming his thumb down her jawline. “You forgot the most important interview question.”

  As if she could think of anything to ask him right now besides how quick they could get out of here and make up properly. “What’s that?”

  “My weak points. I have a lot of them.” Now he was touching her, gliding the rough pad of his thumb over the shell of her ear. “My inability to sing is one of them, obviously.” He lifted her hand and pressed a soft kiss to the sensitive spot on the inside of her wrist. “Then there is the fact that I get distracted whenever I’m around you because you are the most gorgeous woman, inside and out, that I’ve ever met.”

  He tugged her closer until she was pressed against him from hip to shoulder, looking up into the face of the man she loved.

  “Frankie,” she said, finally remembering that they weren’t alone. “There are people around.”

  “Yes.” He nodded, dipping his head down until his lips were almost kissing hers. “And they should know it’ll probably only get more embarrassing the longer I go on, but I’m willing to do that, because when it comes to proving myself to you, I’ll never stop. I want to be your keeper, your forever guy.” He kissed the corner of her mouth, soft and gentle and not nearly enough. “For as long as I can remember, there was nothing in the world I ever wanted to be other than a firefighter. Then I met you. Now I can’t imagine being anything other than the man you wake up next to.”

  And she could picture that, too. It wouldn’t be perfect, but what in life ever was? Anyway, it would be perfect for them, and there was nothing better than that.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, meaning it more than she ever thought she could. “For everything. You were right. I was trying to make you carry my emotional baggage when I should have just let that shit go a long time ago. Can we start over again?”

  “Hell no,” he said, brushing his lips across hers. “Then we would have missed out on everything leading up to this moment, and I wouldn’t skip over any of it for anything—although I might fast-forward through this past week.”

  “I love you, Frankie Hartigan.”

  “And you’re everything I ever wanted and didn’t realize I needed, and I want everyone in the whole world—including your dad on FaceTime—to know it.”

  And then he finally kissed her, a real one, the kind that promises so much and—even better—the kind that delivers a happily ever after.

  Epilogue

  Two Years Later…

  The Ice Knights Arena was rocking, every fan in the place pumped up and ready to watch their team kick off another winning season. Lucy had practically yelled herself hoarse, and it was still warm-ups.

  “Do you mind if I stand here and watch for a minute?” asked a man in head-to-toe Ice Knights apparel (seriously, right down to the team-sponsored tennis shoes).

  Since Frankie was out on the concourse, leaving his seat open, she didn’t see why not. “Go for it.”

  “Thanks.” The guy moved in next to her in the front row right next to the glass. “So, you have season tickets for these seats?”

  “Yeah, we’re big fans.” Well, that and she kept getting them as Christmas presents from her favorite client, who hardly ever needed her services anymore.

  The guy next to her inched a little closer and took a deep breath. “Usually you’re here with another woman, long hair, tied back in a braid.”

  She turned and gave the guy her full attention because that statement was just creepy.

  He must have realized, because his face turned so red she could see the flush even under his Ice Knights face paint. “Sorry, I’m up about six rows and never miss a game. You start to notice the regulars.” He held out his hand. “Alex.”

  “Lucy.” She shook his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  “I was wondering,” he said, the words coming out quick, as if he was nervous.
“Would you be interested in grabbing a drink or something after the game?”

  “Oh my God, that sounds perfect,” said an all-too-familiar male voice from behind her. “Don’t suppose you know a good sitter?”

  Alex’s gaze moved from her face to something—really someone—behind her, and he visibly gulped. “Yeah, sorry, I don’t.”

  Struggling to keep from grinning, she turned and looked at her two favorite male members of the human race. Frankie stood decked out in an Ice Knights jersey and a baby carrier containing a one-year-old with an abundance of bright red hair. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Alex stepping over the front-row seats and into the row behind her.

  “Too bad.” Frankie shrugged and pulled the toddler out of the carrier, setting him down on his feet between them. “It’s been forever since we’ve been out together. This is our first date since this little guy came along.”

  Alex looked from her to Frankie to the mini-me who was pressed against the glass looking out onto the ice. “Well, the game’s about to start. I better get going.”

  Lucy glanced over at the jumbotron clock showing ten minutes left in warm-ups. “Nice to meet you,” she hollered out, but Alex was already three rows up. Turning to Frankie, she rolled her eyes. “A sitter? Really? You didn’t have to scare him off like that.”

  “What are you talking about?” he asked, his blue eyes wide as if he had no idea what she was talking about. “I’m just a friendly guy. Ask anyone at the firehouse, they love having me as their lieutenant. Also, you really need to talk to your connections with the team. Changing a baby in the men’s restroom was a nightmare. They need to get more family friendly bathrooms.”

  “I’ll ask Zach to put it in as a request on his next contract negotiation.” With the way he was playing, the team would probably say yes.

  Frankie dipped his head down so their faces practically touched. “Your sarcasm is duly noted.”

  “I hope this is, too.” She leaned over and gave him a kiss that made her toes curl.

  A banging on the glass pulled her back to the where and when of reality. Zach Blackburn was on the other side of the glass, a goofy grin on his face as he waved at Trey—AKA Francis Hartigan the third. Trey gave up a cute toddler giggle and smacked his palm against the glass in greeting. Then Zach winked at her and gave a manly chin lift to Frankie before skating toward the tunnel to prep for the start of the game.