Muffin Top (Page 63)

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.