Tomboy (The Hartigans #3)(11)
“Where’s your car?” she asked.
The same place as his furniture, his paycheck after the delinquent debt payments, and his self-respect—nowhere. “I don’t drive.”
Turning to face him, she gave him a once-over, taking his measure in such a non-personal, professional way that it gave him the uncomfortable feeling of being back in juniors with the scouts in the stands. She must have decided he wasn’t about to keel over anymore because the clinical detachment melted away and her stink eye returned.
She held her hand out toward him. “Give me your phone.”
“Why?” he asked even as he pulled it from his pocket, swiped his thumb across the screen to unlock it, and gave it to her.
“If you can’t get a ride to urgent care,” she said as her thumbs sped across his phone screen and then hit the call button. “Call me. I’ll get you there.”
The Ice Knights unofficial theme song sounded from her phone, stuffed in the outside pocket of the overnight bag slung over her shoulder. She ignored the noise, tapped a few more times on his screen, and gave him back his phone. Then, without another word, she turned, got into her car, and drove away, stopping only long enough to press the exit button for his security gate.
It wasn’t until Zach was back in the house that he looked down at his phone screen. In his contacts, she’d added herself under the name: Zach Ate More Tainted Muffins.
His laugh bounced off the unadorned walls in his foyer. Sure, the sound was more than a little rusty, but it slipped out of him anyway as he walked with a lighter step than usual back to the kitchen to watch game tape and prep for tomorrow night’s game.
He didn’t get any farther than his kitchen before his phone started pinging with notifications. He clicked on the first one.
The Most-Hated Man in Harbor City Has a New Honey, But Will She Make Him Any Sweeter?
The headline was accompanied by an image of him looking like he was smiling down at Fallon as she looked back at him, a soft, sweet look on her face. What had actually been going on in that millisecond? Who the fuck knew, but it sure looked like they were totally into each other. How in the hell Marty had managed to click his shutter at just the right moment to show the wrong thing, Zach had no idea. The photographer must have pulled over before getting on the Parkway and uploaded the pics. It was probably a smart plan. Knowing Shelly, it was only a matter of time before she whispered her version of events into some reporter’s ear.
“Fucking A.” Zach shoved his fingers through his hair.
Lucy was going to kill him—if Fallon didn’t get to him first. He was so screwed.
Chapter Four
This Is the Defenseman We Were Looking For
Well, it finally happened, fellow Ice Knights fans. Defenseman Zach Blackburn showed up to work and played better than he has in years. No one was more surprised than those of us at your favorite hockey blog, The Biscuit. To be honest, your humble correspondent with a killer manicure had written him off as an overpaid journeyman with a bad attitude and molasses on his skates. Last night’s game against the Toronto Kodiaks, though, showed just what the front office must have seen in the six-three Minnesota native who started his career with the Detroit Blades, where he had a stellar rookie season before becoming the mayor of Mediocre-ville.
It all started last night with Blackburn’s crushing hit on Crispin Ferris shortly after puck drop and ended with his body-sacrificing dive in front of the home team’s goal to block what would have been an empty net score in the final minutes. That move led to Chris St. John scoring in the final seconds and a squeaker of a win for the Ice Knights.
All of that leaves us with two questions here at The Biscuit HQ:
1. Can Blackburn repeat last night’s performance?
2. How much of the improvement has to do with a certain mystery woman photographed outside of his house the day before the game? Was last night a case of a woman soothing the savage beast, or did our boy just finally remove his head from his very well-paid ass?
Guess we’ll have to wait until tomorrow night’s game against the hated Cajun Rage to find out if she is Blackburn’s Lady Luck.
Chapter Five
Sundays at the Beacon All Access Clinic were always busy, and today was no exception. Sure, Fallon could have tried to beg off today’s volunteer shift after she’d already put in eight hours at St. Vincent’s, but she hadn’t. The clinic and the clients who visited the one place where they wouldn’t have to worry about making the choice between groceries and healthcare needed her. She wasn’t about to let them down.
And when the funding came through for her to work full time at the clinic and not just as a volunteer? She’d finally be able to do the kind of work she really wanted while also paying off her college loan.
“Make sure to take two of these the first day and one a day after that for four days, even if the symptoms go away first, okay?” Fallon handed the young mom the sample Z-PAK the pharmaceutical rep had provided the clinic. “You should start feeling better quickly.”
Sylvia accepted the antibiotics with a weary smile. “Thank you.”
“Now, was there anything else? Are the kids doing okay?”
“Yeah,” she said, looking over at her twin four-year-olds drawing at a low table in the corner of the family-size exam room. “It seemed to skip right over them and hit me.”