Tomboy (The Hartigans #3)(58)
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.