Saving a Legend: A Kavanagh Legends Novel Page 5

  Their only couch was a small loveseat that sat awkwardly in the center of the room and faced the only window. She’d hoped to have a television by now, but she hadn’t yet been able to afford cable. Fiona didn’t mind, since she always preferred to read instead, easily curling into the cushions as she flipped through the pages of her romance novel. Within minutes, she found her mind wandering back to the man she’d spoken to earlier.

  His dark blue eyes and chiseled jaw were etched in her memory.

  The way her skin tingled the moment Kieran touched her, the strength behind his embrace—she could feel all of it just by closing her eyes. She’d dated here and there before adopting her little sister, but there was something different about this man, and it was consuming her.

  Realizing she’d read the same sentence at least a dozen times, Fiona took a deep breath and pulled her feet up beneath her on the couch. She didn’t need to be thinking about Kieran. She had responsibilities. She had Shea and everything that came with caring for an autistic child.

  Dating was not an option for her. So she was going to have to be happy with reading about it instead.

  Chapter 4

  “I’m gonna have you on the roof today. Think you can handle it?” Rory stared at Kieran skeptically. It was still dark at this hour of the morning, but the floodlights on the construction site illuminated his brother’s weary expression. Even four-legged Ace seemed unbelieving from where he stood next to Rory.

  “Easy. Just point me in the direction of who I’m working with.” Kieran lifted his chin and pushed back his shoulders in an attempt to look more self-assured. He understood his family’s lack of confidence in him, but it didn’t make it sting any less.

  “Over there.” Rory pointed to two men standing at a card table that held a water dispenser and some cups. “That’s Brogan and Declan. Brogan’s in charge, and he’ll tell you what needs to be done. Payday is every Friday, and he’ll get you your check.”

  “Got it.” Kieran marched away from his brother and directly to his new boss. He was grateful to Rory for bringing him on, but the less time he spent with him, the better. He called out to his boss as he neared. “Brogan?”

  “You Kavanagh?” Brogan asked in a thick Irish accent that surprised Kieran a bit. Even though he and his brothers all knew a little Irish, none of them had strong accents. They had only hints of it here and there from their parents, who were definitely more Irish sounding. His mother often laced Gaelic into her everyday speech, but years and years of living in America had dulled even his parents’ accents. Brogan was older than them, but he sounded like he’d been living in Ireland up until yesterday.

  “That’s me.” Kieran stood taller as the older man scrutinized him. “I hear you’re my boss?”

  Finally, the man nodded at Kieran, as if to say he approved. “Indeed, and you better be respecting that. We got a lot to do to get this place up an’ runnin’ in two months’ time. The grand opening bein’ so close, and it’s got to be perfect. Most o’ the crew’s been ’ere since the first day o’ construction months ago, so you’re da new kid on the block.”

  “I get that,” Kieran said, grateful that Brogan’s brogue wasn’t any thicker. “I just want to keep my head down, do my work, and collect my paycheck. I’m not looking for any trouble.”

  “Then we’ll get ’long just fine, lad.” Brogan handed him an orange vest and a hard hat before turning to introduce the younger man standing beside him. “This ’ere is Declan, my son. He’ll be training ya the first few days.”

  Kieran reached out and shook Declan’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  “I’m sure.” Declan gestured to a ladder propped against the side of the building, still looking irritated at the prospect of having to train someone this late in the game. “Let’s get going up top.”

  Kieran followed him up the ladder and onto the roof, where a large box of tools was waiting for them, along with several stacks of boards and shingles that they were going to spend the day placing. Declan started him on the far end of the clinic, working systematically from one side to the other.

  A few hours passed, and the early morning suddenly didn’t feel very early at all. The streets were beginning to fill as people moved about, heading to their jobs, but Kieran felt like he’d already worked a full shift. The sun at this hour was hot, and the physical labor was no joke.

  He pulled off his hard hat to wipe his brow and glanced down at the sidewalk below. Familiar brown hair over a long, light pink floral dress caught his eye, and he smiled widely at the sight of the pretty woman making her way down the street. She was staring down at her phone while walking, not paying attention to the world around her. Dropping the hard hat back on his head, he moved carefully toward the ladder and scaled back down the side of the building.

  “Fiona!” he called as he came around the corner and onto the street, now several feet behind her.

  She whirled around, looking startled as she held her phone against her chest. “Oh, it’s you. Hi.”

  Her lackluster response didn’t deter him, because despite her attempt to appear aloof, the crimson creeping into her cheeks told him what she was really thinking.

  “Hi back.” He closed the gap between them. “You know it’s dangerous to walk while texting.”

  “It’s also dangerous to talk to strangers, so, you know…” With that and a wink, she turned and walked away.

  He jogged ahead before circling back around her and blocking her way for the second time.

  “Maybe we were strangers on Sunday. But then there was yesterday, and now today…Don’t tell me we’re still strangers after we’ve stumbled across each other enough times to know fate had something to do with it.” He kept his expression purposefully guarded as he stared down into her big blue eyes, which were growing wider the closer he got to her.

  “Fate, huh?” She tapped her index finger against pursed lips, as if considering the possibility. “What if you’re just a stalker? There’s always that.”

  The corner of her lips twitched, and through her eyes danced a light that told him he wasn’t alone in this. She might be trying to deflect the attraction between them with jokes, but nothing could distract him from how badly he wanted to know if her lips were as soft as they looked.

  “Kavanagh! What the fuck are you doing? Get back up on that roof!” Kieran heard Brogan shouting at him from the clinic down the street, where he was supposed to be working right now. He refused to turn around, ignoring his boss.

  “So you’re a construction worker?” She lifted one brow, and he could tell she was trying not to judge but failing miserably. It irritated the hell out of him. It was like she was trying to find reasons not to like him. But he’d always been one to enjoy a challenge.

  He licked his lips, pleased to see her eyes flicker down to watch the movement. Deciding to take a different approach, he reached forward and pushed a stray strand of hair off her cheek, tucking it behind her ear.

  She visibly gulped, and her chest rose and fell at a quicker pace. She might be doing everything she could to push him away, but her body was screaming a different story. And that was the tale he wanted to tell.

  “Stalking gets expensive. Gotta pay the bills somehow.” His eyes were now glued to her lips as she tried to hide her smile at his joke.

  “You’re funny,” she said slowly, seemingly as transfixed by him as he was by her. At least he hoped she was. He needed her to be. He needed her. He wanted her.

  His hand trailed gently from her upper arm to her wrist before sliding his fingers through hers and lifting her hand to his lips. Softly, slowly, his eyes never leaving hers, he placed a kiss on the back of her hand. “I’ll see you soon for our date, flower girl.”

  “I never said yes,” she stammered, looking less sure than her words.

  “But you will.” He let go of her hand, then nonchalantly walked past her toward the clinic. He didn’t bother turning around to see if she was staring after him, because he also didn’t
hear the click of her shoes on the concrete. He took it as a sign that maybe he’d actually gotten past her defensive walls for a moment, however brief it might have been.

  “Kieran, what the hell are you doing?” A minute or so later, he turned the corner and almost collided with Rory as he reached the clinic.

  “Fuck, I’m almost falling on my ass is what I’m doing.” Kieran grabbed the wall to keep from toppling backward at the sudden encounter, grateful he was at least out of Fiona’s line of sight.

  “Why aren’t you working? Brogan said you just walked off with no explanation.” Rory looked pissed. Actually, he looked like the Rory whom Kieran remembered from before he went to prison. The Rory he’d seen the last few days had been different, all love-swept and calm, nothing like the angry man staring at him now.

  “Chill, I was just saying hi to a friend. It’s not a big deal.” He rolled his eyes and tried to walk past his brother, but Rory stepped in his way. Ace was by his side, yet the dog didn’t have the same look of hostility as his owner.

  “It is a big fucking deal, Kieran. I vouched for you to get you this job. It’s my reputation that you’re fucking with, not just your own.”

  “What do you care? It’s your clinic—you own the place.”

  “I don’t own the contracting company, idiot. And it’s called professional courtesy. I’m trying to make a name for myself as a businessman, and I don’t need the family fuckup messing with that. It’s bad enough every person in Woodlawn knows where you’ve been the last two years.” Rory’s fists clenched at his sides.

  Kieran’s jaw dropped at the hateful words, and he paused for a moment, unsure of what to say. Instinct was telling him to slam his fists into his brother’s face.

  Instinct had also landed him in prison, though.

  “I don’t know who you think you’re talking to, but I’m not the family fuckup, Rory,” Kieran finally managed to spit out. “You’ve screwed up just as much as I have: pills, booze, whatever. You think Mom and Dad didn’t know? They knew, everyone knew.”

  “Don’t you dare bring that up, asshole.” Rory jaw tightened and his face flushed. “It’s ancient history, and you weren’t clean back then, either. You did that shit right along with me until you nearly killed that kid.”

  “Ancient history, my ass. There’s nothing ancient about it! And I never did that stuff like you did—I was just having fun and fucking around. Yeah, I went too far, but I paid for that mistake. You haven’t been clean that long, and other people are still paying for how you were back in the day.”

  “What are you talking about?” Rory looked confused, but then he waved his hands as if to dismiss the conversation and started walking away. Kieran had no plans to let him off that easily. Rory couldn’t just yell at him like he was a child and then walk away like it was nothing.

  Everything he’d wanted to say for two years was standing at the gate, banging to be let out. Kieran’s clenched jaw and tense shoulders told him he couldn’t hold it back much longer. He followed Rory and grabbed his upper arm, pulling him back to face him.

  Ace growled at him the moment he touched Rory, causing Kieran to drop his brother’s arm quickly.

  “I’m talking about me! You put me in prison, Rory. I’m still paying for what you did to me! You’re talking about all these people knowing where I was—well, how do you think I got there? You ratted me out!”

  Rory advanced on him fast, turning the tables. Anger flamed in Rory’s eyes as he held up a finger between them in warning. There was something else there, too, though. Kieran saw a pain he wasn’t expecting lurking underneath his brother’s fury. The combination surprised him and caused him to take a step back before holding his ground.

  “You put yourself in prison, no one else. You shouldn’t have been there that day. You shouldn’t have been doing that shit. You hurt the whole fucking family when you went down, and you’ve no one to blame but yourself.” Rory’s angry expression morphed into sadness as he stepped back. “You haven’t been here, Kieran. You didn’t have to watch Ma crying every day for weeks after you got sent up. Get back to work. I’m done fucking talking about this.”

  —

  “Ready for your second day?” Nora smiled sweetly at him as he walked into her office at the youth center later that afternoon.

  Kieran nodded. “Sure, I had fun yesterday.”

  “Making community service fun; now, that’s looking at it glass half full,” she teased. If anyone else had said something like that to him, he might have gotten defensive, but Nora had a way of making you smile. She was lighthearted and easygoing, and in the one day he’d known her, he could see her intentions were always friendly.

  “Tell that to my parole officer,” he said, only partially kidding, since she would be the one to report regularly back to Officer Huppert about his work.

  “Keep doing what you’re doing, and you’ll get a glowing report from me,” Nora assured him. “The kids all had great things to say about you yesterday. You’ve got the high school boys this afternoon. You’ll probably find most of them out on the basketball court.”

  “On it, boss.” He left her office and navigated his way through the center until he exited into the back. The yard itself wasn’t much to look at, just pavement fenced in by several buildings. The alley down the side was a garden area lined with storage sheds. Along the far side was a half-sized basketball court made up of a rickety basket attached to a brick wall and a few painted lines on the concrete.

  “I’m going to kill you, motherfu—” Sudden shouting caught Kieran’s attention, and he turned to see a circle of boys facing away from him. Looking harder, he could see the group had congregated around two boys who were in the midst of a fistfight.

  “Hey!” Kieran rushed over to them, pushing kids aside to get in the middle. “Stop it!”

  The surrounding crowd suddenly dispersed, but most stayed close, pretending to be doing something else but really watching the drama unfold. Kieran had both boys by their shoulders, holding them apart despite their attempts to keep hitting each other.

  “He was talking shit about my—” one boy started to say.

  “I don’t give a shit who he was talking about,” Kieran said sternly. “There’s no fighting here.”

  The boys pushed away from him, sullenly moving in different directions and trying to save face in front of their friends.

  Kieran kept his eye on them both, in case a repeat performance was to occur. The irony of the situation wasn’t lost on him. He’d spent two years in prison for aggravated assault. He’d been raised his whole life to be a fighter, and his family owned one of the most famous mixed martial arts gyms in the country. Yet here he was, telling kids not to do the very thing that was ingrained in his DNA.

  Scowling at himself, he tried to push the thoughts out of his head as he prowled over to the basketball court. Splitting the kids into teams, he arranged a pickup game of hoops and supervised as the kids played. Occasionally, he would join them and give pointers, but mostly he coached from the sidelines.

  “What’s wrong with you today?” a small voice spoke up next to him. Kieran looked down to see Shea watching him curiously.

  “What do you mean?” Kieran asked, tilting his head slightly to look down at her.

  “You’re louder than yesterday,” she said matter-of-factly before turning to watch the basketball game. She had a book in her hands, but he watched as she studied his stance and then mimicked him. She moved her feet apart a bit wider and crossed her arms over her chest. Her earmuffs were around her neck, and he wondered if she’d been able to hear him over them when he was breaking up the fight.

  “I’m louder?” Kieran frowned, not totally sure what to make of her description. “Sorry, guess I’m a little grumpy today.”

  “My sister calls me that when I’m hungry,” Shea said slowly, as if she was thinking about it deeply. “My mom used to tell me I don’t understand when I’m grumpy.”

  Kieran chuckled. “I thin
k most people don’t understand when they’re grumpy.”

  “Really? Like me?” Shea asked.

  Kieran shrugged. “Sure, why not?”

  “My teacher at school says I’m not like everyone else,” Shea admitted, a hint of sadness in her voice. He had yet to see any emotive responses from her, so it made him pause.

  He squatted until he was eye level with her, even though she wouldn’t meet his gaze, and softly patted her shoulder. She stiffened slightly but didn’t move away. “It’s okay to be different, Shea. I’m not like everyone else, either. We can be different together. How’s that sound?”

  “Okay,” she replied simply as she looked past him. Then she put on her earmuffs, opened her book, and walked back toward the building. He couldn’t help but smile at the sight; the little girl was really starting to get under his skin in the best way.

  Kieran finished coaching a game of basketball with the young boys before heading in and doing a few tutoring sessions one on one, mainly algebra and some science. He thought about what Shea had said and wondered if he could bring MMA to the youth center, give the boys who wanted to fight a way to control their impulses. He made a mental note to ask Nora tomorrow about giving it a try.

  A few hours later, he was getting ready to leave, when he found Shea and Fiona standing in front of him in the hallway. Fiona was pulling Shea’s hair back and twisting it into a long braid as the little girl put several books into her backpack and zipped it closed.

  “Two times in one day you show up where I’m working. Now who’s the stalker?” He grinned at her. She rolled her eyes, but her smile gave her away.

  “Fiona, can Mr. Kavanagh come get frozen yogurt with us?” Shea piped up as her sister finished tying off her braid and stood up.

  Fiona shook her head quickly. “I’m sure he’s busy, Shea.”