Her heart started hammering in her chest as she realized Frankie Hartigan had just stuck up for her. She would not swoon at his feet.
Constance blinked for a few seconds, still not sure if she’d been insulted or not—she had—and shook Frankie’s hand. “All of it good, I hope.”
“It was all something,” he said, letting go of the other woman’s hand.
It hung in the air for a second, and Lucy could practically see the dots being connected in Constance’s head. Yep. She definitely realized she’d just been insulted. Twice. Lucy managed to cover her laugh with a cough but couldn’t stop herself from smiling.
Well played, Frankie Hartigan.
The other woman turned her attention back to Lucy. All of the fake warmth was gone from her bright blue eyes. Yeah, that was the Constance Lucy knew and loathed.
“We’re just here for our welcome packet,” she managed to get out as Frankie pulled her closer so she fit against his side as if she was meant to.
She knew she wasn’t, but that didn’t stop her body from semi-melting into his. She was a big woman and Frankie was a big guy, but he didn’t overshadow her size or make her feel like some stereotypical tiny little waif of a thing—really, why was that the go-to for societal expectations of what a woman should want? However, it was pretty damn hot to curl up against someone who looked like he could take all of her and enjoy every last inch of her curves.
“Of course, let me get that packet for you.” Constance flipped through several envelopes before pulling one out. “Here we are.” She handed it to Lucy. “Now, there’s everything you need in there, such as the reunion picnic time, and some things I’m sure you don’t, such as the reunion decathlon challenge.”
Lucy’s amusement died a cold, hard death. Of course Constance would think she’d want the information about the eating thing and not the fun thing.
“What’s the decathlon challenge?” Frankie asked.
Constance turned her attention back to Frankie, flipping her blond hair over her shoulder as she did so and giving him a flirty smile. Either Constance had already forgotten the digs he’d made at her expense, or she’d figured he was hot enough to get away with being an asshole. Either option was possible, but Lucy was leaning toward the second one.
“Oh, it’s a bunch of challenges like a scavenger hunt, carnival stuff, and an obstacle course, with the couple who gets the most points being declared the reunion king and queen.” She pressed the palms of her hands to the table and leaned forward, the move pressing her breasts together for their best advantage. “My husband and I won it at the five- and ten-year reunion s. We’re the favorites for this year, too.”
“That sounds like fun to me,” Frankie said.
Constance lowered her voice to just above a whisper. “I’m not supposed to do this because the rules require at least one member of the team be an Antioch graduate, but I’m sure we could make an exception for you to go it alone.”
Frankie turned to Lucy and tucked a stray hair behind her ear, his touch lingering just long enough to make her breath hitch. “Do not make me do this by myself. You kick ass at this stuff.”
Before she could call him on that bullshit, Constance—eyes wide with surprise—opened her mouth. “Of course she does,” she said with fake sweetness.
Oh hell no. That wasn’t about to stand.
“Yeah,” Lucy said, thinking back to her twice-weekly dance cardio class and the tai chi that helped her focus. “I do.”
“Just imagine how surprised you’ll be when we win it,” Frankie said with a big grin.
Constance’s smile was anything but friendly. “Well then, good luck to Team Muffin Kavanagh.”
“I agree, she’s very tasty, but that doesn’t have a damn thing to do with this,” Frankie said. “You might want to warn your hubby now not to make space on the trophy case.”
Constance looked from her to Frankie and back again, obviously unable to work out why someone like him would be with someone like her. “There’s no trophy,” Lucy said.
“Good.” He dropped a quick kiss on Lucy’s temple. “Bragging rights are even better.”
And while Constance was still staring slack-jawed at them and Lucy was trying to wrap her brain around what in the hell was going on, Frankie swung Lucy around and steered her away from the registration table and toward the exit. They made it out the door and to the corner of the school parking lot before Lucy yanked Frankie to a stop.
“What are you thinking?” she asked, forcing herself to keep from yelling. “The last thing I want is to actually do this stupid decathlon.”