Tomboy (The Hartigans #3)(64)

…

Scrubs on, and hair tied back into a braid, Fallon followed the smell of something totally delicious down the hallway and into the kitchen. That was where she found Zach wearing only his jeans while he stood in front of the stove. Up until today, it was a room she avoided at almost all costs. However, if this was what she’d find every time she walked in for a cup of coffee, she’d be visiting it a whole lot more often.

“About time you showed up,” Zach said as he picked up the pan on the stove, turned off the gas burner, and then poured the pan’s contents onto a plate, which he picked up and handed to her. “One veggie omelet, half a bagel, and a slice of ham.”

Mouth watering—and not just because of the shirtless hottie in front of her—she took the plate and sat down at the small table. “Where did you find this?”

“You had everything in your fridge.” He sat down across from her, his own plate filled with two omelets, the other half of the bagel, and another slice of ham.

“We did?” She looked over at the fridge, trying to picture what was inside the shut French doors. “I swear every time I open it, there’s only a half-empty bottle of catsup and a little of this and a little of that. Finn and I live off of the leftovers from the weekly family lunch.”

Was she proud to admit that? No, but it was true. Between her crazy schedule and Finn’s, they were a grab-and-go house.

Zach shifted in his seat and kept his gaze locked on the plate of food in front of him. “That’s where years of having to fend for yourself in the kitchen comes in handy.”

On its own, that sentence didn’t carry much weight, but considering the baggage of growing up with his total monsters-of-the-year parents and being broke as hell now, there was no way that Zach wouldn’t consider the admission one of vulnerability. The fact that he’d uttered the words to her meant more than just about anything. He trusted her. It was at that moment that whatever remained of the wall around her heart crumbled into dust.

Acknowledging the importance of it, though, would just make him uncomfortable, so she pushed forward with the food talk. “You cook a lot?”

He nodded and took a bite of his omelet. “Can’t afford to go out, and I grew up doing it.”

“Where were your parents?” The bastards.

“At work or meeting with hockey coaches.” He cut his ham with hard, efficient slices of his knife. “They had the goal of making me a hockey star, and nothing was going to get in the way of that.”

She could picture ten-year-old Zach, frying up bologna sandwiches and boiling water for mac and cheese all alone in a quiet house. Comparing it to the absolute chaos of the Hartigan kitchen when she’d been growing up, the difference was stark. For all of the mental complaining she did about the in-her-business nature of her family, there’d never been a day in her life that she’d doubted their love for her. She couldn’t say the same for Zach, and it was heartbreaking.

Of course, Zach picked that moment to look up from his plate, catching what had to have been a look of pity on her face. Instead of snarling at her per usual, though, he reached across the table and used her fork to cut off a bite of omelet. He held it up to her mouth and fed it to her, his smile a little forced, but she couldn’t fault him for the effort—or for how yummy the omelet tasted.

“It was good training for now,” he said, scooting his chair closer and cutting off another bite of the omelet for her. “So I could make you breakfast out of the barren vista of your fridge.”

Fallon didn’t need to be fed. She had two hands that both worked, but this moment wasn’t about that, and even she knew it.

“This isn’t part of our negotiated terms,” she said, taking the fork from his hand.

His eyes darkened with emotion, and he shrugged. “We left those behind a while ago, and we both know it.”

This was him letting her in while using the cover of taking care of her. This was a preview of what their life together could be like. Not that he’d be hand-feeding her for the rest of their lives, but that they’d be in it together, watching out for each other. She’d never realized before just how much she wanted exactly that.

“And you’re going to come home after a three-game road trip and make me an omelet before I go to work?” The idea was both ridiculous and thrilling in the same breath.

He leaned closer, his mouth only a few inches from hers. “If I’m lucky.”

“I think I’d be the lucky one in that situation,” she said, her heart speeding up from his nearness and the possibilities.

“How about we agree we’re lucky together?” he said, cupping her cheek.

Giving in to the idea that this could really be happening, she nodded. “Sounds about right.”

Really, it sounded perfect—almost as perfect as the feel of his lips against hers when they met in the middle for a kiss.

…

That night, Fallon pulled into the employee parking lot at St. Vincent’s, her mood almost as dark as the stormy sky. The whole thing with Zach’s parents had blown up since the call from Lucy this morning. Now, everyone from the egomaniacs on sports TV to the gas station attendant filling up her tank had an opinion about what a shitty human Zach was for what he’d done to his parents.

“And I’ll tell you another thing,” the blowhard on her car radio continued. “Could you imagine what kind of person you’d have to be to make the kind of money he is and abandon his parents so they’re living in a fifth-floor walk-up studio with a drained retirement account? That’s low, really low.”