Tomboy

Zach stabbed his fork into a piece of ham on his plate. “I was sick.”

“Oh, you poor thing,” Faith said, sounding exactly like the trusting kindergarten teacher she was. “Are you better now?”

“Yes, I’m watching what I eat.”

Of course, he meant tainted muffins, but no one but her knew that. It took everything she had not to laugh out loud when Faith’s gaze went to the huge amount of food piled on his plate and then back up at him, her blue eyes wide and surprised. That was probably, because except for these dinners, Faith spent most of her time with five-year-olds whose caloric intake was far less than that of a professional athlete.

He must have realized how much food he had on his plate because he grinned at her sister. “No more sweets.”

Across the table, Fiona snort-giggled. “Then Fallon’s just perfect for you.”

Some people might haven been offended. Fallon just embraced the truth of it. There was absolutely nothing sweet about her. Still, she sure as hell wasn’t perfect for Zach Blackburn.

“That seems to be the general opinion.” Zach’s knee stopped bouncing. “Lucy, my agent, and Coach Peppers have bought into that BS from The Biscuit and think she’s my Lady Luck.”

Everyone at the table turned their attention to Fallon, pinning her down with so many curious looks she could almost hear their questions before the words even made it out of their mouths.

“My first game after I got sick was the Kodiaks game,” Zach said.

Everyone at the table nodded their heads. Being rabid Ice Knights fans, they didn’t need more explanation of how that game had gone and how he’d played like a dream.

“Then, I left tickets for Fallon for the Rage game and she couldn’t come.”

Again, all the Hartigans nodded in understanding.

“And now you’ve got the Thunder coming up on Monday.” Her dad gave Zach an understanding smile and then sent her a pleading look. “You have to go. It’s for the team.”

Nope. That was not going to happen. “This is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”

“You don’t believe in the luck of the Irish?” her mom asked.

Okay, she’d seen too many patients who recovered when they shouldn’t have not to believe that there was something out there, but that wasn’t the same thing as a hockey player’s desperate attempt to latch onto some silly idea. “I don’t believe that I’m some kind of Lady Luck.”

“But if it works, you could help change everything for the team. We need you,” Gina pleaded, as if her name was on the lineup.

It wasn’t that Fallon didn’t think of her own fandom that way, too, but the last thing she wanted was to add one more responsibility to her plate. She loved the Ice Knights, but when she could catch a game live it was in her PJs, with her eyes barely open after a long shift in the ER and probably another volunteering at the clinic. Wait a minute. She swore the room got a little brighter in that moment be

cause the mother of all lightbulbs just went off above her head.

Pivoting in her seat, she turned to Zach and smiled. There was no missing his worried gulp of anxiety. Smart guy.

“I have one condition.”

He nodded. “I’m listening.”

“You make an appearance at a charity carnival fundraiser for the Beacon All Access Clinic. Take pictures. Sign autographs. Try not to growl at the small children.”

“Oh, that’s a wonderful idea, Fallon,” her mom said. “Of course he will. That’s a no-brainer.”

Since being volun-told was pretty much part of the Hartigan family code, she was used to it. Going by the about-to-get-run-down-by-a-Mack-truck look on Zach’s face, he wasn’t.

“Will you?” she asked.

He looked like he’d just swallowed battery acid. “I don’t do those.”

“Oh, you should,” Faith said, pouring herself another glass of lemonade. “Giving back to the community that supports you is important.”

He lifted his pierced eyebrow. “I’m the most-hated man in Harbor City, remember?”