Saving a Legend: A Kavanagh Legends Novel (8 page)

“This much chocolate is only yummy if it’s a treat every once in a while. If you have it every week, it’s going to be boring.”

“It’s yummy right now,” she challenged him, taking another large bite. Fiona smiled, knowing Kieran was never going to convince Shea not to eat sugar. She might have her off moments, but she was still a child.

“Because it’s new. Have you ever had the same food over and over and it starts to taste the same each time?” Kieran asked her.

“I eat the same things all the time,” Shea said slowly, seeming to put a lot of thought into it as she did. She looked like she was rethinking everything she’d been doing, and it made Fiona nervous they might be pushing her too far.

“So how was school, Shea?” Fiona hoped to change topics. Kieran looked at her questioningly, but she ignored him.

“I don’t like math. I’m no good at it,” Shea announced.

“I can help you with that,” Kieran said.

Fiona looked at him with lifted brows. “You want to do homework?”

“Sure, I’ve always liked math. I’ve got a degree from NYU in economics and finance,” he said as Fiona sipped the last of her smoothie.

That impressed her. She hadn’t given it much thought until then, but she was surprised that this man who did simple construction work had also gone to college. He looked like he took more time chiseling every muscle on his rock-hard abs than he ever did reading a textbook. The revelation made her slightly self-conscious about her lack of higher education but even more intrigued by him. “You went to NYU? Wow, that’s quite the accomplishment.”

He just shrugged like it was nothing, which irritated her a bit, because it would have been everything to her to have that kind of background.

“Where did you go?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I didn’t. Had to work.”

“You have definitely done well without it,” he said simply before turning back to his yogurt and finishing the last few bites. “So, why flowers?”

This time it was her turn to shrug. “They make people smile just by being there. They don’t have to try or perform—they just exist, and that’s enough. I like the idea that something can be so loved just for being itself.”

Fiona looked over at Shea as she thought about how much she loved the little girl exactly the way she was.

“I’m finished. Can we go home?” Shea asked, dropping her spoon into her empty bowl.

“Sure, let’s throw away our trash.” Fiona stood and helped Shea drop her empty bowl into the trash can. Kieran followed closely behind them as if this was a date. She’d warned him she didn’t date, and she wasn’t about to change her mind even though she definitely wanted to run her fingers across the ripples on his biceps. “Well, thank you for the yogurt. It was very nice of you. I’m sure we’ll see you around.”

“Oh, you will, especially since I’m walking you home.”

Fiona paused on the sidewalk. Shea had already opened her e-reader, walking and reading at the same time.

“We’ll be fine, there’s really no need. Thanks for the offer, though,” she told him, but he just shook his head and smiled.

“I would never hear the end of it from my mother if she found out I’d let two ladies walk home unescorted. So I’m not asking you, flower girl, I’m telling you. I’m going to walk you home.” He walked past her with a charming smile and caught up to Shea.

She’d never let anyone take care of her before, and his insistence was both irritating and exciting. It made it that much more difficult to stick to her no-dating rule, though. Fiona scurried to catch up to him and Shea as a warmth began building in her that she hadn’t felt in a long time.

—

“So you’re walking us home because you’re afraid of your mom,” Fiona said with a teasing smile a few minutes later as they turned a corner and headed in the direction of her apartment. At least he’d assumed that’s where they were headed. He found himself wondering why she didn’t live closer to the flower shop and the youth center, since she was at both so often and would want to be near Shea. Instead, they were headed in the opposite direction.

“She’s a scary woman to cross,” he admitted with a grin.

“Oh.” He studied her face for a moment, and she actually looked disappointed. Maybe she was hoping for some sappy answer from him, but he wasn’t going to give it to her. He’d already put himself out there enough; it was her turn.

“So, you work construction during the day and tutor at youth centers, but somehow you also graduated from New York University,” she said after a moment of silence.

“Is there a question in there, or are you just summing up my life?” he asked.

“Everything about you is a question.” She was clearly flirting with the idea of giving him a smile back, but it came out as just a small curve at the corner of her lips.

Maybe she’s finally flirting with me,
he thought.

He looked both ways before ushering Shea and Fiona across a busy intersection. “You seem to have all the answers, so it sounds like we’re the perfect match.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Is everything from you always a pickup line?”

“Depends on who I’m talking to.”

“Everything you say to me is a pickup line.”

“That’s because I definitely want to pick you up.” He smiled before glancing over to check that Shea wasn’t listening. He didn’t really think he had to worry about that, though, because she was absorbed in her reading and was wearing her heavy-duty, pale pink headgear. He spent most of their walk stopping Shea before they neared an intersection, or moving her to the side if something was in the sidewalk, because otherwise she’d plow right into it without hesitation.

“We may have accidentally spent some time together during the last three days, but you’re still a mystery to me,” Fiona explained.

Kieran shrugged and glanced at her sideways. “Well, what would you like to know?”

She tapped her index finger to her lip like he’d seen her do a few times before, a unique motion to her that made him want her even more. He tried to push further thoughts of her perfect pink lips away and concentrate on her as she looked at him closely.

“All right, well, why do you work construction? You’re definitely smart, so I’m sure you could be doing something else if you wanted,” she asked.

“I’m helping out my older brother. He owns the rescue, and they’re renovating the entire thing, making it much bigger and adding a clinic. It’s scheduled to be done in a few weeks. He and his girl love dogs, so they take in ex-fighter dogs and rehabilitate them. He needed the extra help, and I had some time on my hands.” He knew full well that he wasn’t exactly telling the truth, leaving out anything that related to his time in prison, but he wasn’t lying, either.

“You’re just helping your brother? Oh, that’s kind.” She seemed pleased with his answer, and he loved the warm smile that appeared on her face. “Then you’ll go back to finance or something in a few weeks?”

“Probably, haven’t really decided yet. I’ve got plenty saved up to give me a little time to figure it out.”

“Figure what out? What were you doing before this?” she pried further.

Kieran looked away from her and saw Shea climbing the steps up to a small stoop in front of a ratty, run-down building.

“Is this your house?” he asked, avoiding her question.

“One fourth of the top floor is, yeah.” She opened her purse to fish out her keys and follow Shea up the steps. She turned when she got halfway up. “Thanks for walking us, and for the yogurt. That was really kind of you.”

“Anytime, Fi,” he said, and was rewarded with another wide smile.
Note to self, she likes the nickname.

“Shea, say thank you,” Fiona instructed her little sister, pulling on one side of her earmuffs to talk to her.

“Thank you, Kieran.”

Fiona beamed down at her sister, unmistakable pride on her face, then she turned to give him a small wave before they both went inside.

Kieran turned to head back toward the youth center, where his car was parked. He glanced around the neighborhood they were in, and he didn’t like what he saw. He worried about the two of them here but tried to push away his discomfort. That only led to more questions in his mind.

He’d known this woman for three days, and he had already seen her more times than he’d seen his own family. Not even on purpose—she just kept popping up everywhere he was. And he loved it. He was looking forward to it, hoping to run into her again and again.

He had to wonder if he was feeling this way only because he’d been locked away from all women for two years. Maybe it was possible that he’d literally picked the first woman he met out of prison and clung to her, as if she was some symbol of the freedom he’d lost the last few years of his life.

Somehow, he knew that wasn’t the case, though. This woman was different, and she made him feel different. Maybe because she didn’t know he was a felon, a topic he’d barely dodged tonight, or maybe it was because she didn’t know what a screwup he was. Or maybe it was in the way Fiona smiled at her sister, as if the world started and stopped with her. Whatever the reason, he knew that having her sparkling eyes look at him was a privilege, one he wanted to earn again.

Chapter 6

“Holy fuck! Look whose sorry ass just walked in,” announced Tate, a beefy fighter Kieran had once been friends with, as he walked into Legends that evening for the first time in over two years.

“Tate, good to see you, man,” Kieran replied with a nod, in hopes that would be the end of it.

Tate wasn’t having it, though. He came bounding over and slapped a hand on Kieran’s shoulder. His face resembled that of a lonely puppy, begging for someone’s approval.

“Damn, Killer, it’s been a minute. Everything looking a little brighter without bars in front of it?” He called Kieran by his fighting name, half teasing, half provoking.

“Shut up, asshole.” Kieran walked farther into the gym, but Tate followed.

“Hey, Killer!” Another fighter called out to him, raising one hand in the air.

Kieran waved, not changing his path. Men stopped to look at him but kept their distance. Some people made side comments to one another just out of his range of hearing; others looked nervous; and a few even looked impressed.

“I’m serious, Killer! We’ve been missing you around here. Go wrap up—let’s spar for old time’s sake,” Tate suggested, quickly resembling a parasite stuck to Kieran’s side.

“I’ll think about it,” Kieran told him, although he had already decided yes. He’d been dying for years to get back in the cage. “Let me check the place out first—I just walked in.”

“Nothing’s changed,” Tate said with a shrug. “It’s the same as it’s always been since your pops first opened it twenty years ago.” He walked off.

Kieran looked around at the large open-floor gym, with one large cage in the center and several smaller octagons on the outskirts, and he knew what Tate claimed wasn’t true. This place was as modern as they came. His father took precision-like care of all the octagons, and every weight machine was top of the line. Some of the decorations on the walls were a bit outdated—like pictures from old fights back in the day—but they just added to the ambience of the place.

It was one of the reasons why he’d loved it so much, why it had been his favorite place growing up. When he walked past the lobby and receptionist desk, past the lockers jutting off the entry hallway, and entered this big room, he could feel the importance of this place. That history was being made here.

And he’d almost been the one to make it.

“Hey, Kieran!” Kane called from an octagon to his left. Kieran headed over and saw that he was sparring with Rory, probably training for his upcoming regional fight, which would be followed almost immediately by the statewide fight. Kane was fixing to be the next Rory, at least the Rory from before he blew out his knee and got hooked on prescription pills.

Kieran felt proud anytime he saw his twin in the octagon. He knew how bad Kane wanted the fame, the attention, the title. He’d thought he wanted those things, too, but really, he just loved the physical act of taking his body to the limit. The one time he’d entertained a future in MMA, he’d been miserable. Everything was so strict, so regulated. It took the fun out of the sport.

But when he’d found a way to skirt the rigidity and still make money, he’d ended up in prison. Turns out gambling is the real sport in illegal street fighting. Very little about the entire sport appealed to him now, except the pure enjoyment of being all fists and sweat, and moving lithely around a cage.

“What are you doing here?” a sweaty Kane asked as he leaned against the cage and stared at Kieran. Ace dutifully lay sleeping outside the cage, waiting for Rory.

“Thought I’d get in a workout, see the old place.”

“Want to spar?” Kane directed at Kieran, then turned to call over to Rory, who was getting some water. “Hey Rory, can we tag in K?”

“Like you’re ready for that,” Rory scoffed, heading in their direction. Kieran noted that Rory didn’t say hi or acknowledge him directly, and he didn’t really care.

Kane stood straighter. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means he’s not in your weight class anymore.” Rory eyed Kieran’s large frame.

It was true. While once he and Kane had been completely identical, even in size, that was no longer the case. Kieran had gained so much muscle weight in prison that he’d quickly surpassed his brother without even trying. Well, he
had
been trying, but his reason had nothing to do with Kane. He’d needed to be able to fight off anyone who tried to shank him in the prison yard.

“Fuck you both.” Kane huffed. “I can take him.”

Kieran laughed. It wasn’t often he got to feel superior to his twin. “Relax, Kane. I promised the next fight to Tate.”

“Like I said, fuck you both,” Kane repeated before turning and walking toward the center of the cage. Kieran’s eyebrows shot up when he saw the back of Kane’s shirt.

“What the hell, Kane? You stole my name?” Kieran balked.

“Uh,” Kane turned around quickly to hide the Kane “Killer” Kavanagh written on the back of his shirt. “You weren’t using it.”