Saving a Legend: A Kavanagh Legends Novel (6 page)

“Okay,” Shea agreed uncharacteristically, not meeting her gaze.

“What? Really?” Fiona handed her the glass, smiling from ear to ear, as if Shea had given her some huge treat. “That’s so great, Shay-Shay.”

Her sister nodded slowly, then tipped the glass to her little lips and downed the milk in a few gulps. She placed it down on the table, then stared at the bowl of carrots for a moment. Fiona held her breath, as if one wrong exhale would ruin the moment.

Shea picked up a carrot, examining it carefully, then bit it in half and chewed. Apparently, she decided she liked it, because she lined the carrots up in a rectangle before finishing.

Fiona watched intently with unmatched excitement.

“I’m done,” Shea announced, and Fiona grabbed her, hugging her tightly. Shea froze stiff as a board but didn’t pull away. Fiona kissed her on the forehead before finally releasing her.

Shea picked up the e-reader Fiona had bought her during a Black Friday sale, with money she’d saved throughout the year. “Can I read tonight?”

“Sure, baby girl—not too late, though. I’ll come read with you once I clean up the kitchen,” Fiona told her, but Shea had already put her earmuffs back on and walked off the moment she heard Fiona’s agreement.

Fiona set about clearing the table and washing the dishes. She then made herself a small grilled sandwich and some steamed broccoli before taking a seat alone at the tiny table in their kitchen. She had eaten alone for years now. Her sister wouldn’t eat with her, so it was easier to keep their dinners separate. Their table barely accommodated one place setting anyway, so it didn’t bother her too much.

Fiona ate quickly and out of necessity, not really tasting anything as she watched Shea out of the corner of her eye. Her little sister had settled onto the small window bench that was covered in cushions. She was intently staring at the tablet’s screen, clicking every thirty seconds or so to advance to the next page.

Fiona watched her, debating whether she should try to convince Shea to do something besides read all the time. A child reading is a glorious thing, but Shea rarely wanted to do anything else. She didn’t play outside like most children, and she didn’t have the social or communication skills to hold meaningful conversations with others. She didn’t understand emotions and human interaction.

Before their mother had died, she’d perfected how best to care for Shea. She made rules and schedules, doing everything in a routine Shea could understand. Shea was allowed to read one hundred pages during the day, but if the weather was nice, she might make her read outside so at least she got some sun. After dinner was another story; it was only fifty pages more before it was time for PJs.

Their mother had made more mistakes than one person should, but Shea wasn’t one of them. Their mother had loved both of her daughters more than life itself—Fiona had never doubted that. The problem was her rabid search to find the perfect man and fall head over heels in love. It had cost them everything. It had cost lives.

Finishing the last few bites of her sandwich, Fiona wiped her mouth with a napkin and took her dish to the sink, bringing her thoughts back to the present as she did. As she scrubbed everything clean—a task she had to perform, thanks to their lack of a dishwasher—she decided she would take a cue from Shea and spend the night reading. She needed the distraction from the guilt swarming through her.

Since Shea had the only e-reader they owned, Fiona walked over to the tote bag they kept by the door. The bag was loaded with books from the library, and she picked out a paperback she’d checked out for herself. Once a week, they went to the library and stocked up on the type of books they both enjoyed reading. For Fiona, tonight’s read was a romance, one of her favorite genres, about a young journalist at a
Cosmo
-type magazine who was learning about love for the first time, after having written about it for years.

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.”