Chasing a Legend

by Sarah Robinson

  He was moving on, even if it was six years too late.

  Chapter 4

  “That’s seriously the funniest thing I’ve ever heard in my life,” Jimmy Kavanagh said, his hand over his mouth to hide his smile. His dark red hair cut short, the laugh lines around his eyes were deeper than Quinn remembered. There was a chiseled, rough look to his younger brother’s face where there had once been only freckles and innocence.

  Quinn made a mental note to ask him how work was going—being a New York police officer these days wasn’t easy. “I’m so glad you see the humor in my misery.”

  “Oh, come on, Q. This could be a good thing.” Jimmy pulled a fork out of the kitchen drawer in their parents’ house and dipped it into the pot of mashed potatoes on the stove. “You two used to be best friends.” He shoved the giant bite in his mouth.

  “Past tense, Jimmy,” Quinn reminded him, grabbing a fork to do the same thing his younger brother had just done.

  “I know you are NOT digging into my dinner early,” Dee squawked as she walked into the kitchen and began batting both of the men away.

  Quinn’s fork was halfway to his mouth when she snatched it. Despite the fact that they were practically twice her height and could easily bench-press her weight, both men immediately conceded to Dee’s commands.

  “Not me, Ma. It was all Quinn,” Jimmy said with a wicked grin, as Quinn narrowed his eyes at him. They were grown-ass men, yet when they were back home, it was like they all reverted to their childhood selves.

  “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, mo mhac ag dul a mharú dom. My sons are going to kill me.” Dee began spooning the potatoes into a serving bowl. “Quinn, seriously, we’re eating in twenty minutes. You can’t wait?”

  Quinn turned an innocent smile to his mother. “But, Ma, your food is so amazing—who could resist?”

  “Well, I can’t argue with you there.” Dee laughed, coming over to kiss him on both cheeks. “You’re a good kid, Quinny. You can have some more potatoes if you want, but wait for dinner.”

  Ever since his accident, he was able to get away with murder around here, which he certainly didn’t mind one bit. He’d been staying with his parents since his return from the hospital, but was eagerly awaiting the day he could move back into his apartment on the outskirts of Woodlawn. “Thanks, Ma.”

  Jimmy coughed loudly, only half disguising his words underneath. “Kiss-ass!”

  Dee turned to him. “What’s wrong with you? Are you getting sick?”

  “No, Ma,” Jimmy quickly said, straightening his shoulders. “I’m fine. I was just kidding around.”

  Quinn saw his opportunity for payback and took it. “He told me earlier he felt like he had a sore throat, Ma.”

  “What!” Dee wiped her hands on her apron and quickly placed the back of her hand against Jimmy’s forehead. “Oh, baby, you do feel a little warm. How about some of my special homemade elixir? Works every time, you know.”

  Jimmy’s scruffy face twisted in horror. “No, Ma, I’m fine! That elixir tastes horrible!”

  Dee propped her hands on her hips. “It tastes like health and vitality, Jimmy, and you’re drinking it.”

  Quinn laughed and hobbled toward the dining room to find a seat before everyone else arrived for Sunday dinner. A staple at the Kavanagh household, it wasn’t exactly optional, although as the family was growing larger and larger, not everyone made it every week.

  Dee had even purchased a custom-made dining room table last year to replace the old one that sat only ten people. The new table seated eighteen—an insane number, in Quinn’s opinion—and it took up the whole damn room. His mother insisted it allowed room for the family to grow, but everyone knew that just meant she wanted more grandchildren—and lots of them.

  She already had two grandkids she absolutely adored—Fiona’s little sister, Shea, who was as much a part of their family as any blood relation, and Rory’s one-year-old son, Murphy. There were certainly no immediate plans for anyone else to pop out babies since Kane and Nora were taking their sweet time and still unmarried, despite Dee’s constant begging for a wedding. The rest of the Kavanaghs—Jimmy, Quinn, and their cousin, Casey—were all still single.

  Picking a chair close to the end with the most legroom, he dropped down with a loud exhale.

  “You all right?” Casey asked, walking in and kissing him on top of his head.

  “I’ll be fine.” He nodded gratefully at his redheaded little cousin, the only girl in the entire Kavanagh clan. She might technically be a first cousin, but she had been living with them since her family was killed when she was four years old. She was now their sister through and through. “How are you doing, Case?”

  “Oh, just being a twenty-something millennial who has no idea what to do with her life and feels completely unfulfilled,” she said with an exaggerated sigh as she plopped down into the chair across from him. “I hate my job.”

  Quinn frowned. “What? But it’s a good job—good pay.”

  “Yeah, because money is everything, Q.”

  He chuckled at her self-righteous tone, but he knew she was right. This time last year, he would have called her crazy, but after his accident, going back to a job that was solely based on raking in big bucks…it felt a lot less appealing than it used to be. “Well, what do you want to do, then?”

  “That’s the million-dollar question,” she said, a small smile broaching her lips. “How are you holding up? How’s PT?”

  “Physical therapy is…interesting.” He glanced around the dining room to see if anyone else had joined them yet, but they were alone. “Kiera Finley is my doctor.”

  “What?” Casey pushed back in her chair. “She’s the same age as me! Oh, that is it. I’m quitting my job and doing something better with my life.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “How is she a freaking doctor already?”

  “She’s doing her residency now,” Quinn told her with a laugh. “So she’s not technically a doctor.”

  Casey grunted. “Yeah, well, her ambition can kiss my butt.”

  “Who’s kissing ass?” Rory and his family stepped into the room looking like they were ready for a photo shoot. They were wearing matching shirts, for Christ’s sake—even the baby had been forced into the color-coded atrocity.

  “Um…” Quinn shook his head, looking at the three of them. “It looks like the Brady Bunch is here.”

  Rory pulled at his shirt collar, his long, dark hair reaching its edges. “Clare’s idea.”

  “He loves it.” Clare laughed, bouncing Murphy on her hip as she leaned over and hugged Quinn. Her curly blond hair was soft against his cheek, her bright green eyes vibrant as she leaned back and smiled at him. “How are you doing, Q?”

  “Can’t complain,” he replied, shaking Rory’s hand, before making silly faces at Murphy who began howling with laughter.

  Clare handed the child off to him, and he sat him in his lap, playing with his hands and making obnoxious noises with his mouth as the one-year-old sat captivated and laughing. “Murph certainly loves his uncle Quinn.”

  “When are you going to get one of those?” Casey chimed in after hugging Rory and Clare. “Quinn, you’d be a great dad.”

  “Oh, yeah, I’ll get right on that,” he said sarcastically, going cross-eyed to elicit more laughter from the child. “I’ll impregnate someone tonight.”

  “Who’s pregnant?” Dee screeched from behind him, a look of pure excitement on her face. “Someone tell me right now!”

  “Ma!” Quinn shouted back, covering Murphy’s ears with his hands. “You’re going to bust an eardrum. No one’s pregnant, we were just joking.”

  “Oh, well, joking aside, I want more grandchildren.” Dee gave a long look at Clare. “You know, Murphy is already a year…sounds like the perfect time for a sibling.”

  “Ma, I cannot even do this with you today. We already feel outnumbered with the two of us and Murph.” Rory stepped in so poor Clare wouldn’t have to. She didn’t look all that upset about the
thought, though, and Quinn wondered if maybe they were considering a second child, too.

  “All right, fine, fine, everyone sit down. It’s almost time to eat.” Dee headed back to the kitchen, and Quinn felt like Sunday dinner had already exhausted him although he hadn’t even eaten yet.

  “Hey, kids,” Seamus greeted them, moving to the head of the table as he pushed his glasses up onto his thick silver hair. He paused as he passed Quinn and bent down to give Murphy a kiss. “Want to come sit with Grandpa?”

  Murphy threw his hands in the air, squealing in delight, and Quinn reluctantly passed off his nephew to his father. “No fair, grandpa beats uncle every time.”

  “Them’s the breaks, kiddo,” Seamus said, picking Murphy up and tossing him in the air before catching him again.

  “Don’t drop him!” Clare shrieked and grabbed at her chest, but Rory just laughed.

  “Babe, he’s fine. I throw him up in the air all the time,” Rory assured her. “We always catch him.”

  Clare blinked, staring at her husband like he had ten heads. “You…what?”

  “Oh, shit, Rory’s in the doghouse,” Kane announced, finally making an appearance in the dining room.

  At Kane’s side, Nora went straight for Clare and gave her a quick hug, kissing her cheeks. “Don’t be too hard on him, Clare,” Nora said with a laugh as Kane draped an arm around her shoulder. “All guys play Superman with their babies.”

  Kane’s twin, Kieran, was right behind them, followed by his wife, Fiona, and Shea, Fiona’s little sister, whom they had adopted after the girls’ mother had died. Glued to Shea’s side was an old, raggedy-looking black-and-white dog that had definitely seen better days—most of his teeth were missing, he was balding in random places, and he was much skinnier than he’d ever been before.

  Ace had actually been Rory’s dog for years and years, but when Shea was in the room, he stayed next to her the entire time. Shea had autism spectrum disorder, and she would spend the entire dinner every week just petting Ace and sometimes feeding him chicken nuggets.

  Rory swore Ace was holding on as long as he was only because of that girl, and it made Quinn sad to think he wouldn’t be around much longer.

  The dog leaned up against Quinn, greeting him with cloudy eyes. Quinn petted his head gently. “How you doing, old boy?”

  “He’s good,” Shea answered for the dog, looking just slightly off to the side instead of making eye contact. Her light brown hair was in two braids that sat on either shoulder, tucked under the pink earmuffs that she always wore to minimize sound. One side was pushed slightly off her ear, and he knew that meant she was okay with talking right now. “Hi, Uncle Quinn.”

  “Hey, Shay-Shay.” He reached an arm out and hugged her, despite her objections. “What are you reading?”

  “Books,” she said, before going to sit down near her sister—Ace hot on her trail.

  “Well, okay, then.” He laughed and greeted the rest of his brothers, staying seated because of his legs.

  Within a few minutes, the majority of the chairs around the ridiculously gigantic table were filled with Kavanaghs. The table in front of them was covered with every dish possible, steam rising up from each that made all their mouths water. Dee insisted they say grace, and Murphy cooed through most of it. Then everyone filled their plates high with their mother’s cooking, and hearts filled with laughter as they told funny stories from the week.

  Quinn looked around at everyone he loved and wondered how he’d gotten so lucky. He’d almost lost all of this. He’d always seen Sunday dinners as a chore before, and they were still exhausting as hell, but if he’d never been able to have another one with his family…he couldn’t even imagine. Everyone at this table would die for each other. They loved each other with a fierceness that knew no bounds, and they’d fought for one another time and time again.

  They were a ride-or-die family, and he was smack dab in the middle.

  The only thing he missed was a partner-in-crime sitting next to him. The way Fiona was leaning into Kieran, the affection on her face even as he stole a roll from her plate, made Quinn envious. The not-so-subtle footsie happening under the table between Nora and Kane, who were still as in love today as they ever had been. Hell, he was even jealous of the way Clare was currently threatening Rory’s life if he ever threw Murphy in the air again.

  Quinn wanted that, and he was so ready. He was starting over; he wanted to do it right this time. He wanted the sweet, the sexy, and even the fighting; and he wanted it all wrapped up in one girl. He hated that only one face ever came to his mind when he thought of that future. He didn’t want to still want her after all these years.

  Especially when she had never wanted him.

  Chapter 5

  “Just do five more,” Kiera instructed, watching Quinn on the mat in front of her as he carefully held a small medicine ball between his ankles.

  He scowled at her, but did as she said.

  Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday from three to four o’clock in the afternoon, Kiera’s workdays had taken a massive dive—and she’d been working with Quinn only a couple weeks. At first, she’d thought it would be easy. They already knew each other—it was familiar and comfortable.

  Nope. Not the case.

  It was not easy. It was not comfortable, and it was certainly not the Quinn she had once been familiar with. He was cold and distant, and while he worked hard at the exercises and stretches she gave him, he refused to make small talk with her. She knew that shouldn’t even be on her radar as his doctor, but being around him again was a dynamic that went beyond doctor-patient and she couldn’t stop herself from wanting to be his Keeks again.

  Quinn was making it very clear she no longer was. He wasn’t outright hostile, but he also wasn’t friendly, and for Quinn—one of the kindest men she’d ever known—that alone was hostile. Plus, it was downright awkward.

  “We all finished here?” he asked, wiping a towel over his brow and pushing himself up to a standing position after their third Friday session together. His cane was at his side, but he was already not using it as heavily as he used to, which made her really optimistic about his progress. He’d been working hard not only in his appointments with her but at home, and his surgeon had reported he was healing very well.

  Kiera surveyed him for a moment, wanting to say more, wishing she could just be friendly with him, the way they’d always been. “Yes, we’re finished,” she said, squaring her shoulders and lifting her chin slightly. Despite his sour attitude, she was proud of the work they were doing and of her part in it. It was yet another reminder that she’d done the right thing in pursuing a career that made her happy, because this man was in no shape to make anyone happy—including himself.

  “Good. See you Monday.” He turned to head toward the door, picking up his jacket off the exam table. Something shiny slid to the ground, making a small clinking noise as it bounced against the linoleum. “Shit.”

  Kiera bent down and scooped it up, since it had landed right by her feet.

  “Please, give that back to me,” he asked quickly, extending his hand toward her.

  She frowned, confused by the panicky look on his face. Glancing down at the object in her hands, she turned it over. “Hold on, I just want to look at it.”

  “Keeks—”

  “Jeez, Quinn, I can’t even look at it?” She let out a huff, her foot tapping the floor in frustration. “Do you hate me that much?”

  His mouth fell open, his head rearing back as if she’d just smacked him. “What? I don’t hate you.”

  “That’s news to me,” she replied flippantly, before examining the object in her hands.

  Sleek silver was flatly shaped like a small heart, a ribboned look to the metal that arched around to form its sides. In the center, the heart was divided in half. One side was a dark, black glass, barely transparent, but she could see the outline of her fingers on the other side. The other half of the heart was empty, just a blank space she could
see right through, and she wondered what it meant. Either way, it was beautiful and intricate, and she immediately admired the craftsman’s handiwork. “This is really beautiful, Quinn. Where did you get this?”

  “I made it.”

  Her eyes flew up to his, seeing only sincerity in his expression. “You made this?”

  He nodded.

  “You. Made. This,” she repeated, turning it over in her hands again. “How? When? Why? I didn’t even know you knew how to do something like this, Quinn. This is insanely talented—you know that, right?” She was rambling again, but she didn’t care. She’d just discovered that her best friend—ex–best friend, or whatever—had a secret talent, and she suddenly wanted to be his biggest champion. All her irritation immediately washed away at her excitement over his newfound skill.

  “Slow down, Keeks. It’s not that big a deal.”

  “The hell it’s not—it’s gorgeous!” she insisted, holding the metal heart up, admiring the light shimmering through the darkened glass. “What does it mean? Why did you make it?”

  “It was a gift for a girl I once loved,” he said simply.

  Kiera looked back at him, her stomach turning for reasons she couldn’t pinpoint. “Oh.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Why do you have it then?” she pried further. “If it was a gift for her?”

  Her. Ugh. The very idea upset Kiera. Quinn had been in love with some random girl, and she hadn’t even known about it. She shouldn’t care—she knew she shouldn’t—but somehow, it felt wrong. It felt like she should have been there for that…like he should have been hers. Wait, what? Kiera swallowed as she realized her feelings were more jealousy than anything else, which seemed absurd since it’d been years and she didn’t know who he’d dated, or was dating now. Nor did she even have a right to know.

  But he’s my Quinn…

  Quinn shrugged, a sheepish look on his face as he stared at the floor between them. “She didn’t want it.”

  Kiera’s mouth fell open. “She what?”

  “Kiera, please. It’s not that big a deal,” Quinn tried to assure her, but she would not be calmed.