Spark (MacKenny Brothers Series Book 1) Read online

  Kathleen Kelly

  Spark

  MacKenny Brothers Book 1

  Kathleen Kelly

  Copyright © 2018 Kathleen Kelly

  All Rights Reserved

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Kathleen Kelly is in no way affiliated with any brands, songs, musicians, or artists mentioned in this book. This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it to the seller and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

  All efforts have been made to ensure the correct grammar and punctuation in the book. If you do find any errors, please e-mail Kathleen Kelly: [email protected]

  Thank you.

  Disclaimer: The material in this book contains graphic language and sexual content and is intended for mature audiences, ages 18 and older.

  Editing by Swish Design & Editing

  Proofreading by Swish Design & Editing

  Book design by Swish Design & Editing

  Cover design by Clarise Tan at CT Cover Creations

  Cover Image Copyright 2019

  First Edition 2018

  Second Edition 2019

  All Rights Reserved

  He’s a loner with a big secret.

  She’s a small-town waitress who’s desperate to leave, but family obligations hold her back.

  For three years, Eric Hill has successfully kept himself closed off from everyone. That is, until Cherie, a big-dreaming, feisty waitress, barrels into his life and ignites his protective streak.

  As the attraction between them grows, Eric must decide if he can protect his secret and family without destroying Cherie, or whether he needs to walk away from the small-town girl he’s coming to love.

  Spark is a standalone and the first in the MacKenny Brothers series.

  To my long-suffering husband. You are my everything. Without your constant support and love, I would still be wandering around this planet wondering what the hell I’m doing here.

  You make the darkest days lighter.

  Infinity plus one.

  Blurb

  Dedication

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  Connect With Me Online

  About The Author

  “Maddock! Maddock, open the door.”

  It’s barely seven o’clock in the morning, and my kid sister, Heather, is pounding on my front door. I have a piece of toast in my mouth and a coffee in my hand as I fling the door open. I take a bite of the toast and wave it at her. “Jesus, Heather, what do you want?”

  Pushing past me, she goes into the kitchen and picks up my other piece of toast. “Is that any way to talk to your favorite sister?”

  “You’re my only sister, and that’s my breakfast.”

  Heather smirks at me and takes a bite. I shake my head at her and take a sip of my coffee.

  “Why are you here? Apart from eating my food?”

  “Toast for breakfast is bad for you, anyway. It’s all carbs. You don’t want to get fat, do you?”

  “Heather?”

  “My car is making a stupid noise again. Could you look at it?”

  “Love, I have a big meeting this morning at work. I can’t be late.”

  “Fine, drop me to work then.”

  I shake my head. “I can’t be late. You work in the opposite direction than me.”

  Heather pouts at me.

  “Fine. You can take my car, and I’ll take my bike. Okay?”

  Heather smiles. “Driving the Mercedes. Woohoo, lucky me.”

  “It’s a car, Heather.”

  “Yes, a very expensive car. You know there’s a correlation between how much you pay for a car and how big your—”

  “Enough! And it’s size, not price.”

  Heather laughs, and it causes me to grin at her. She’s the youngest of all my siblings. Although she’s a twin, Heather came last, and as a result, she has all of us wound around her little finger.

  I walk into my bedroom, grab my jacket and briefcase, and head for the front door.

  The keys to my car are on the hall table, so I pick them up and find Heather waiting for me outside.

  “No speeding,” I say as I jangle the keys in front of her.

  “I’d never,” replies Heather, holding her hand to her chest.

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I mean it, Heather. I’m not taking another ticket for you.”

  “All right.” Heather sighs and smirks at me. “I know you look GQ and all, but are you really going to wear your Versace suit on a bike?”

  “It’s Armani and yes. I have my leather jacket and helmet in the garage. Drive safely and have a good day. I’ll see you tonight.”

  I pull her into me, kiss the top of her head, and walk toward the garage. Thankfully, I have my own office at work with a bathroom attached, so I can fix my hair when I get there. I need to look my best for the board meeting.

  My car is parked in the driveway. I hear Heather open and close the door, and I turn to wave her goodbye. She’s smiling at me, and I grin back at her. The car turns over once and makes a strange noise, then I’m flying through the air. Heat and debris engulf me, and I’m slammed into an oak tree. I get up, something drips into my eyes. It stings. I rub at them, look at my hand, and see blood. I stand, take a step, and fall onto my knees.

  Heather.

  I have to get to Heather.

  I stand again, staring at the place where my car was. There’s nothing there but a shell and flames.

  I drop to my knees and scream, “Heather!”

  Pushing up again, I take two steps, trip, and blackness engulfs me.

  Eric

  The heat is blistering today. I’m underneath an old Mustang which needs more new parts than the owner can afford. So I’ve made do with some reconditioned parts and improvised as much as I can. He’s made it clear to my boss, Theo, it’s all he can afford no more than the bare minimum. He’d be bet
ter off selling it for parts and buying something else, but apparently, he’s attached. I don’t usually work on cars. I prefer bikes. And on a day like today, I’d give just about anything not to be stuck under this piece of crap soaking my overalls through with sweat.

  “Yo, Eric! You finished with the ‘stang yet?” asks Theo.

  I slide out from under it and frown at him. “Am I still working on it?”

  Theo holds up his hands to placate me. “The owner’s here, what should I tell him?”

  “That it needs a match and a nice funeral?”

  “You’re a grumpy fucker, aren’t you?”

  “Theo, it’s not worth fixing. She’s rusted in more than a few places. If he had the money, we could do it right, and she’d be a beauty, but he doesn’t. She’s a hazard, a fucking death trap.” I stand and reach for a towel to drag over my face and wipe my hands.

  “Yeah, yeah, I know, but he wants it fixed. Can you get it running?”

  I sigh and nod. “Yeah, but not until later today or early tomorrow.”

  “That’s the best you can do?”

  I answer him with a death glare, and he backs away from me, arms raised.

  It’s easy work for me, it’s what paid my way through school. It was never a passion working on cars, bikes, hell, any type of machinery. Not enough money in it. And if it’s not a challenge, then what’s the point? You should always push yourself to achieve the best, and it shouldn’t come too easy.

  I sit on a stool and open a bottle of water. The overalls I’m in are murder, so I undo them and free my upper body. It gives me a little relief from the heat, and the cold water is like liquid gold as it slides down my throat.

  “Is this what you mean by working on my Mustang, Theo?” I turn to see a man in his late sixties staring at me disapprovingly.

  “Mr. Lake, Eric’s been working on it all morning. Even—”

  The old geezer faces Theo and yells, “I need my damn car!”

  I stand and walk toward him, and the old guy turns and eyes me warily. “Mr. Lake?” He nods. “Your car needs probably another three hours of work. I’m sure Theo has told you, it’s a pile of crap. You’d be better off buying a newer car.”

  Mr. Lake’s face goes bright red, and a vein in his neck begins to pulsate. “I don’t want a newer car. I want—” He clutches his chest and goes down on one knee.

  “Fuck! Theo, call an ambulance.” I rush toward the older man and lay him down on the filthy garage floor. “Mr. Lake, I need you to breathe deeply.”

  Theo has his phone out and is talking to someone.

  I stand and jog toward the first-aid kit, pulling it open, and take an aspirin out. I hold them up to Theo. “Tell them I’m giving him aspirin.” Theo nods and relays the information. “Mr. Lake, are you on any heart medication? Have you experienced anything like this before?” He shakes his head. “This isn’t going to taste very nice, but I need you to chew on these and try to stay calm. Breathe deeply and relax.”

  The old man nods, fear hiding in the depths of his eyes.

  Theo comes toward us with a clean towel in his hands.

  “I’m going to put this under your head.” Mr. Lake nods. “Tell me about your car.” I need to get the old guy’s mind off his troubles.

  Tears well in his eyes, and I’m unprepared for what he says. “It’s for my granddaughter, Cherie.” Mr. Lake clutches his chest. His speech becomes soft, and he’s gasping for breath. “My son, her father, was a useless, spineless, excuse for a man. Cherie’s had it hard her whole life. I want to do it up, to leave her something, so she’ll know she was loved… by me, at least.”

  I nod, understanding how he feels. My parents did the best they could, but with five boys and one girl, it wasn’t easy. We often went without.

  I glance at the Mustang, rust eating away at her and look down at the old man as compassion washes over me. “I’ll work on her. I’ll find a way to bring her back to life.”

  “I don’t expect you to do it for nothing.” Fire still burns in the old guy, and he manages to sound annoyed even in his current state.

  “Calm down. There will be a cost, but we’ll figure it out.” The old man closes his eyes, and I look up at Theo. “How far out are they?”

  “They should be here any minute, it’s a small town.”

  I nod and sigh. Population five thousand in Breckenridge, Colorado. I’ve never been one for small towns, and now I’ve been living here for three very long years. I keep to myself and live on the outskirts of town. The nearest neighbor to me is five miles away, and I have a gravel driveway, so I can hear if anyone comes calling. Not that anyone even knows where I am or if I’m alive. When I first moved here, I thought it would be a year, two tops.

  The ambulance pulls in, and I move out of the way of the two paramedics as they run into the garage.

  “He’s in his late sixties, no previous heart condition. I laid him out and gave him two aspirin to chew on, and he’s been responsive.”

  One of the paramedics looks at me. “Do you have medical training?”

  “No, sir, I watch a lot of TV,” I say, avoiding eye contact. “I’ll get out of your way.” Moving toward the front of the garage, I swipe my water bottle and stand outside away from questions and any possibility of them getting near the truth.

  This town has an average temperature of seventy in summer, but this year we’re having a heatwave—it must be one hundred and five. I can feel sweat as it trickles down my back. I watch as they load Mr. Lake into the ambulance.

  Theo comes and stands near me. “You watch a lot of TV? You don’t even own a TV.”

  I glance at Theo and smile. “What? You think I’d be working here if I were a doctor? Come on, Theo, I’m a dumb, ole mechanic, but a good one who’s had enough for today and is going home. It’s too hot to work.”

  “Yeah, okay,” replies Theo suspiciously. “Don’t forget Mrs. Dorthamer is dropping her car off for a service this afternoon. I told her it would be ready by lunchtime tomorrow.”

  I groan and look up at the clear blue sky. “I’ll come back later and work on it in the cool of the night. It’s supposed to be hotter tomorrow. I’m not working under a car in the one-hundred-degree heat.”

  Theo makes a noise, and I glance at him. He knows better than to push me as I’m the best mechanic he’s got. I don’t call in sick, I don’t fraternize with the other staff, and I don’t go out drinking all night and not come in the next day. He also pays the minimum wage, which is barely enough for a person to live on. I get a grand total of eleven dollars and ten cents per hour, and if I do overtime, he pays me sixteen dollars and sixty-five cents.

  “I’ll do the work, Theo, but not now or in the heat of the day.”

  “It’s not that. I can’t afford the overtime.”

  I quirk an eyebrow at him. Since I’ve been here, I know his business has doubled. I’ve even shown him where to invest his money to get a better return, and all he’s worried about is paying me overtime.

  “I’m not asking you to pay me overtime. I’ll do my hours but at night. One of the reasons I moved here was for the climate. It’s not supposed to get this hot.”

  Theo slaps me on the back. “Good man. Go home. Relax. And come back later. You still have keys, right?”

  I’m also the only employee he trusts with keys to this place. “Yeah, I’ve got keys.”

  “Well, seeing as you’re going to be here working, we might as well leave the lights on and see if anyone wants gas or drinks.” The fucker is smiling at me. He sure likes a pound of flesh for his dollar.

  “Sounds fair,” I mumble as I go back inside the workshop and grab my helmet. “Have a good one. I’ll be back when the heat breaks tonight. After today, I’ll work nights, book whatever you want in.”

  Theo smiles, thinking he’s had a win. I don’t mind. This job is the only thing I have that keeps me sane.

  Eric

  The ride home feels good against my skin. I take it slow and enjoy the f
reedom only being on a bike can bring. My home sits on the side of a mountain—one way in and one way out. If I get cornered up there, I can get out through the mountains—only an experienced hiker would be able to follow. I park my bike in the shed I built and walk toward the house.

  I’m not used to living in snow country, and I should have positioned it closer to the house. Come winter, it’s a pain to walk through sleet and snow to get inside. Rookie mistake. It’s July, so I still have plenty of time to build a walkway between the two buildings, but as I ride a motorcycle, there seems little point in doing it. Although when I get snowed in, it would be nice to get wood from the shed without freezing to death. I keep a pile on the porch, but when it’s cold, you burn through it quickly.

  It’s not much of a house—a bathroom, and the rest is an open plan. I picked it for the remote location, and if I wanted to extend it, I could. Apart from the shed, I’ve made no plans to expand.

  Once inside, I strip off and stand under the shower, letting the cool water wash over my skin. I’m on well water. Normally, I’m quick, but today I stay in here until my skin goes pruney. As soon as I turn the water off, the oppressiveness of the heat washes over me. I grab a towel, wrap it around my hips, and walk into the kitchen. Too late, I realize someone is in my home as I smell the sickly scent of perfume.

  “You know, it’s an easy way to get yourself killed.”

  I freeze, analyzing the voice—female, not familiar, doesn’t sound threatening. I keep a gun in my bedside table. I walk in that direction, drop my towel on the bed, open a drawer, pull out a pair of briefs and the gun at the same time. Turning around, I level the gun at her only to find an amused expression on her face, and her eyes staring at my crotch.

  “Who the fuck are you?” I growl.

  Slowly, her eyes move up my body, stopping briefly on the gun. The smile gets all soft and lazy as she holds up her credentials. “I’m Connor Styles’ replacement, U.S. Marshal Maria Lovett at your service.” Her eyes drop to my crotch again, and a small smile plays on her lips.