The Player and the Pixie (Rugby #2)

“I don’t care for rugby,” he said, sniffing self-importantly. “I prefer golf.”


“Well, you ought,” I growled, both irritated and perversely pleased he wasn’t a rugby fan. “He’s getting married here tomorrow. What do you think management will say if you call the police on his little sister after he’d spent thousands of euros on his special day?”

He frowned, a deep V of consternation forming between his eyebrows. A sound to my right caught his attention and I allowed my gaze to stray for a brief moment. We’d drawn a crowd. Gawking passers-by had stopped to watch the exchange.

Unfortunately, their presence seemed have the effect of reinforcing his resolve. He puffed out his chest and lifted his chin higher. “As I said, I don’t care who she is. Nothing negates the fact that she’s attempted to steal several hundred euros of valuable merchandise from my store. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a call to the authorities to make.”

Unthinkingly, I placed a hand on his arm to stay his movements, “Wait—”

“Unhand me, sir!”

“You have the wrong person.”

He wrestled his arm from my grip. “I certainly do not.”

“You do,” I seethed, seeing intimidation of the normal kind would get me nowhere and, scrambling for a solution that would see her free and safe, I announced, “I put the balls in her bag.”

“Sean!” Lucy was at my side, her hands wrapping around my wrist. “Stop this.”

I threaded my fingers through hers to still her movements. “While she wasn’t looking, I put them in her bag, thought it would be a good joke. She had no idea.”

“You did no such thing,” the man huffed, clearly seeing through my lie.

“I did, and you can’t prove the contrary.”

Lucy tried to bypass me, so I wrapped my arm around her, covering her mouth just as she said, “No he—”

“I did.”

She strained against my grip, her hands coming to mine in an effort to pull my fingers away so she could speak.

“I did it. It was me. Call the garda. I don’t care.”

The clerk looked between the two of us like we were crazy. Lucy growled, now trying to elbow me in the stomach.

“What’s going on here?” a new voice asked, one I immediately recognized. “Let go of my sister, Cassidy.”

I didn’t. I held her tighter for fear she would blurt her guilt. Lucy had stiffened, having abandoned her struggle as soon as her brother appeared.

I shot Ronan a look, hoping I could take advantage of his typical reactionary behaviors for the next few moments.

“Ah. Ronan. May I introduce the man who is trying to arrest your sister?”

“Arrest Lucy?” he asked dumbly, his eyes moving over the three of us. Behind him, I spotted several of our teammates, all watching the scene with a hushed readiness. Prepared to jump into action should their captain require assistance.

For once their blind loyalty didn’t aggravate me.

“That’s right. This man is determined to call the Garda even after I explained it had been a joke.”

“It was not a joke,” the clerk raged. A vein stood out in relief on his red forehead. “That girl,” he pointed to Lucy with obvious spite and contempt, and I saw Ronan tense at the movement, “tried to steal from my shop, and this odious man is trying to take the blame for it.”

I shifted my eyes to Ronan’s, finding his wide with dawning comprehension.

“And if he,” the clerk gestured to me, “would unhand the thief, she’d confess everything herself.”

“Don’t unhand her,” Ronan ordered, giving me a stark look. Then addressing the clerk, shouted, “If he said he did it, then he did it. Stop badgering my sister and go call the Garda. Have them come and sort it out. Go.”

The man stiffened in surprise, gaped, then opened his mouth like he was ready to argue. But he didn’t. Instead, he gave a belligerent, prideful sniff and spun on his heel, marching to the shop desk and grabbing the phone behind the counter.

Lucy huffed through her nose, drawing my attention back to her. I relaxed my hold slightly and tried to look down, examine her expression. She stared forward, looking mortified and angry.

I bent to whisper something in her ear, a plea for her to stay quiet, but was interrupted from doing so by Ronan.

“I don’t know what happened,” he’d lowered his voice so only we three were privy to his threatening words, “but whatever you’re trying to do to my sister—”

“Just listen for one fucking second, okay?” I growled, leaning closer. “I’m trying to keep her from getting into trouble. Just let me take the blame and get her out of here.”