The Spark (Carolina Connections Book 2)

by Sylvie Stewart

  He was standing directly in front of me by that point. I looked down, suddenly self-conscious at my appearance when I had been steadfastly resolute just minutes before.

  I felt his finger on my chin, lifting my face so he could look directly at me without having to bend down. I realized this was the first time he had ever touched me and I felt goosebumps rise on my arms. It really was quite ridiculous how big he was in comparison to me. I wondered for a moment what those muscles were called that rose above a person’s collarbone to create that slope Mark had. Then I dismissed that thought altogether as I caught his scent and nearly swooned. What was that? Whatever it was, it had the effect of a hot fudge sundae on all my various lady parts because they all swooned simultaneously, leaving me responsible for keeping our entire body upright. Bitches!

  “I like calling you that,” he responded quietly. “Please don’t spoil it for me.”

  I was evidently under some kind of spell he’d cast because I inexplicably said, “Okay.”

  Okay?! What? I hated when people pointed out my height—it was so patronizing. Like I wasn’t aware of my size already and just needed a freakishly large person to point out something my tiny scale-appropriate brain couldn’t possibly configure on its own! Wow, thank you for pointing that out—I was wondering why I had so much more oxygen down here. Feel free to go on with your business, you freakishly tall human being, you. Gah!

  But apparently, Mark was now using some sort of wizardry on me because I capitulated like a puppy with a peanut-butter-filled Kong.

  “What the hell, Fiona?” cried a new part of my subconscious. I wasn’t familiar with this one. “Pride,” she introduced herself.

  Oooooh. Wow, it’s great to meet you—I think we need you right about now.

  “Yeah, no shit,” she said. But before she could say more, Mark cut in.

  “I don’t like seeing you cry. Are these tears about my mom? Please say you just watched something sad on TV or missed a giant sale instead,” he said as his thumb swept over my right cheek.

  My knees wobbled and I could only hear Pride as a very faint echo in the back of my brain yelling, “Hold on!”

  “I just…don’t want any of you getting hurt,” was what I managed without breaking down again.

  This afternoon, I had waited until I’d dropped Laney off and was safely ensconced in my own space before I’d broken down. I cried my eyes out at the unfairness of it all. Why were some people so cruel? Why did Kelly have a shit husband who, even after disappearing for years, could still rain hurt down on her and her kids? Why did my family have money when she was the one who needed it to protect her family? And why did people like me, who had those financial resources, have to fight a different battle—one that money couldn’t win? It was all so misaligned.

  Of course, I knew without asking that if I were to offer the money it would ruin any kind of friendship I may ever hold with any member of their family. I would forever be the little rich girl who offered her “spare change,” oblivious to the true struggle it was to live a normal life. If it were only that, I probably would have risked it regardless, but I knew they would never accept my money in a million years. I wasn’t the only client Pride had, of that I was certain.

  So, I did what any normal girl would do—I sat in my apartment, broke down in tears, and downed a pint of Ben and Jerry’s. All right, I may have also had a couple glasses of wine, only remembering after the first sip that wine and ice cream don’t really go together very well. Somebody needs to invent alcohol-infused ice cream. Oh yeah, I guess that’s kind of what frozen margaritas are. Oh well. Moving on.

  Anyway, it was at that point the phone had rung and it had been Mark, finally calling me back, so I’d gotten my act together and told him about his mom and the note, even though Guilt gave me hell about it. Oh, what did she know anyway?!

  I did make the decision, though, to keep some of Kelly’s business private—certainly the emotional and very personal struggle she’d shared with us, but also the fact that she was going to see Jim tomorrow. I was hoping the bad guys would stick with their plan and leave her alone until next weekend, but it was still a bit risky. And I knew if I told Mark, he and Jake would try to stop her—to protect her, as usual.

  Their care and concern for her was indeed very sweet and endeared them to me, but I knew only too well what it felt like to constantly be on the receiving end of such care. It was always well-intended and came from a place of love, but to be reminded how fragile, how breakable, you are on a constant basis can have the unintended effect of making you feel even more broken. It can make you forget that you can be strong if given the chance. So, I wanted to give Kelly that chance, and hopefully it wouldn’t turn out to be a mistake. That’s why I was planning a little stake-out of my own in the morning. I’ve watched Enter the Dragon—I’ve picked up some things. Nobody was touching a hair on Kelly’s head.

  “Shortcake,” Mark said again and then wrapped me up in the same hug I’d witnessed him giving his mother last week—the one where it seemed his arms could wrap around me twice.

  And I needed it.

  I reveled in it.

  I let out a huge involuntary sigh and burrowed right into his chest where I was again consumed by his scent—something woodsy and earthy—and the goosebumps turned into a whole-body shiver.

  “Are you cold?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I lied.

  At which point he bent down, picked me up as if I were a child, and carried me over to the sofa where he plopped down with me sprawled sideways across his lap—kind of like he was Santa and I was a big baby, only in a sexy way. Okay, drop the whole Santa thing—that analogy is totally inappropriate. Just focus on the big hot guy.

  He grabbed the cashmere throw I keep over the arm of the sofa and bundled it around me, tucking it almost up to my chin. It made me smile stupidly at him.

  “Better?” He smiled back and looked at me with his amazing brown eyes bordered all around by those obscene eyelashes.

  “What’s taking so long?” asked Uterus.

  “Yeah, enough with all the boo-hooing—just sit on his face already!” Vagina chimed in.

  “Shut up, you filthy little whores!” scolded Pride.

  I had to work very hard to block these bitches out or I was definitely going to throw common sense out the window and start feeling Mark up.

  “So,” Mark interrupted the turbulent musings in my mind, “tell me more about this letter and everything that happened.”

  Oh, right, back to regularly scheduled programming—except that I was sitting on his lap and his thumb was stroking my arm.

  “Um, well, we went to the spa and it was really fun—your mom is great, by the way—and we got mani-pedis. See?” I lifted my feet from under the throw to show him my toes.

  He grinned. “Very nice, Shortcake.”

  “And I had to talk your mom into getting her nails painted an actual color instead of clear—can you believe that’s what she picked out?” I looked up into his face again and I could practically see his internal struggle to maintain patience.

  Oh, right, back on track, then.

  “Anyway, when we were done and were dropping your mom off she asked us to come in to have a look at something. It was the letter from those loan sharks.”

  “What exactly did it say?” he asked, tension lining his mouth. His thumb had stopped moving.

  I concentrated and tried to remember the note. “It said something like, ‘You have a week. $32,000.’ I’m pretty sure that’s what it said because Laney and I insisted it was a threat and your mom should call the cops, but Kelly pointed out that the way they’d written it wouldn’t necessarily be seen that way.”

  “Shit. The price went up by two grand. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised,” Mark said, shaking his head. “And it goes along with the timeline we overheard at the hospital.”

  “So what exactly happened over there? You had me worried.”

  He looked at me intently and then, I k
id you not, bent and kissed the top of my head!

  What was going on here? Had I blacked out for a week and we were now people who hugged and kissed? Or, in the midst of a coma I don’t remember being in, had his mother decided to adopt me, making me his little sister who he affectionately kissed on the head? Help! I don’t know what’s going on!

  “Calm down and pay attention,” Guilt said. “This is a lot for him to take in so give him some leeway without freaking out like a thirteen-year-old with her first crush.”

  Right.

  His thumb started making circles on the back of my hand this time. Oooh, that looked really good with my new manicure.

  Mark’s voice pulled me from my consideration of our hands. “Not much, really. The thugs approached my old man and issued a very thinly veiled threat to my mom if they don’t get their money by next Saturday. The asshole just laid there like the useless pile of bones he is.”

  I brought my hand to my throat. “Oh my God—poor Kelly. This is so unfair! What are we going to do?”

  “Well, first, Jake and I,” he said while giving me a pointed look, “are going to convince our mom we’ve got it covered. Then we’re going to use a contact at the hospital to get the old man’s address. From what those guys said, he’s probably not living here in North Carolina—just came back to try and hide and be the parasite he is. We’re going to go snooping and see if we can find anything to sell or—if he’s dumb enough, a safe assumption at this point—see if he has any hidden cash. That is, if the thugs haven’t already tossed the place.”

  I nodded my head. That sounded like a pretty decent plan to start with.

  “What did my mom say about the note?”

  Hmm, here’s where things got tricky. I’m relatively certain it’s wrong to lie to someone while they’re cuddling you and just kissed you on the head.

  “She was upset, obviously. I don’t know. We just did some girl talk?”

  “Is that a question?”

  “Um, no?” Dammit all.

  “Again, is that a question, Shortcake? What aren’t you telling me?”

  I huffed. “Some things are just private, Mark—between girls.”

  “There’s not anything important you’re not telling me, though?”

  I tried to evade. “Well, if you consider stories about your childhood important…” I trailed off, hoping I’d distracted him enough.

  “Yeah, about that—I can’t believe my mother gave you those pictures!”

  “Aww,” I teased. “Are you embarrassed that you used to be as tiny as me?”

  He just narrowed his eyes and squeezed me.

  “Careful, He-Man, you may just crush me with your big bod if you don’t watch out. I will say, though, that seeing those pictures gives me a little insight into why you and your gym have such a bromance going on.”

  He scoffed. “Whatever. I just like being in shape, Shortcake.”

  “Uh-huh,” I said, eying him up and down quite leisurely.

  And at that moment I became acutely aware of some very specific movement under my bum. Let’s say a rising of sorts.

  Oh my.

  Oh my!

  I abruptly sat up and practically jumped off his lap—this was so confusing! I threw myself across to the other end of the sofa and tossed the cashmere blanket on top of his lap to cover any evidence. My sharp movements caused some groaning and grunting from Mark. Perhaps I hadn’t been very graceful in my panic to escape the confusion-inducing penis salute. Ugh. Kill me now.

  What was wrong with me? I was completely attracted to him, and I now had hard evidence (oh, come on, I couldn’t resist) he was attracted to me too. He only did casual sex—I only did casual sex. On paper, we should be boning right now. Well not actually on paper because that might involve paper cuts in some extremely inconvenient—oh, you know what I mean!

  Only it wasn’t that simple and we both knew it.

  Time for distraction!

  I snuck a peek at Mark. He seemed to still be recovering from my unintentional assault to his man parts.

  “So, there’s one thing I think you haven’t considered in this grand plan of yours to ransack your dad’s place.”

  “Oh yeah?” he muttered with his eyes closed, head resting on the back of the sofa like he’d just run a marathon. Seriously? How badly could it really have hurt?

  “Yeah. Assuming he lives far away, if you and Jake both go then there won’t be anybody here to protect your mom in case the thugs decide to come calling early.”

  His eyes opened and shifted to me. “Crap. You’re right.” He sat up, seemingly back to normal. “Maybe I can ask Nate…no, I don’t want to put him in harm’s way, especially with a family to worry about.”

  Damn straight. “That’s why I’m going to go with you, and Jake will stay with your mom.”

  What? Did I just say that?

  “What? No,” said Mark.

  Phew.

  Then he tilted his head, looked me over slowly from head to toe (turnabout being fair play and all, I suppose), and announced with complete certainty, “Actually, that’s a great idea. Can you get off work if need be?”

  Shit. I’d really done it now.

  “Yay!” cried all the lady bits, even Guilt and Pride because being helpful is a good quality in a human being.

  “Sure,” was all I could say. It seemed I was out-voted.

  I believe I’m the only person I know who lives in a democracy consisting of a slew of imaginary crazy people and only one actual human.

  Oh well…road trip!! I just hoped it didn’t interfere with my stake-out. I was one busy bad-ass woman.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The Christopher Columbus of Like

  MARK

  I had absolutely no fucking idea what I was doing. This was akin to braving a new world—I’d never had feelings for a girl before. And I’d certainly never wanted to hold one on my lap, unless of course she was straddling me.

  After Fiona had kicked my hard-on and practically crushed my nuts in her attempt to scramble off my lap, I’d thought all was lost and she was repulsed. Then I remembered how she had thoroughly checked me out—the very perusal that had caused said hard-on—and I recognized the deer-in-headlights look on her face.

  She was just as perplexed as I was, and more importantly, as turned on as I was. I already knew she was mine, as foreign as that thought was, but I was guessing she didn’t yet realize I was hers. All of which would be remedied by the concentrated alone time we’d have while traveling to, and subsequently searching, my dad’s place, wherever that may be.

  So, back to the plan. A call to Jake was in order so I pulled my phone out of my back pocket and hit connect on his contact, keeping Shortcake in my sights all the while. She fidgeted like mad in the corner of the sofa. It was fucking cute. And now that my dick had recovered, it was clamoring its approval. However, as soon as my brother picked up the phone, it did the appropriate thing and calmed the hell down.

  “Yo,” Jake greeted.

  “Hey, you find anything?”

  “Not a thing. She must have taken it with her. You at Fiona’s?”

  “Yeah. Don’t worry about finding the note. Bottom line is we already know the deadline is Saturday, but the amount has been upped—thirty-two grand.”

  “Shit.”

  “Yeah. So, the plan to search his place is still on, but Fiona brought up a good point. If we’re both gone, who’s going to watch out for Mom in case the goons get restless?”

  “Right—crap.”

  “So I think you should still get the address from Lexie, but then Fiona and I will go to his place.” I kept my eyes on her and she smiled nervously. Then she stood and headed for the kitchen, mimicking a drinking motion on the way. I’d let her go for now.

  “What the hell, man?!”

  I maintained a calm demeanor. “We’ve got it covered.”

  “I hope you know what you’re doing,” he said.

  “Not a fucking clue,” I responded on
ce Fiona was out of earshot.

  To which Jake laughed his fucking ass off.

  “Okay, it’s all set,” I told Fiona when she finally came back to the couch carrying a glass of red wine in one hand and a beer in the other. “Jake is going to get the address tomorrow and then, depending on where we’re headed, we can either leave tomorrow afternoon or Monday morning. How does that work with your schedule?”

  I noticed she sat about as far away from me as possible as she set her glass on the end table and picked up her phone from its spot on the coffee table. She tapped at it for a moment and then put the phone to her ear.

  “Hey, Ollie, it’s Fiona,” she greeted the person on the other end of the line, then paused and laughed before saying, “Oh, you know me too well.” And then she giggled.

  I decided I hated this Ollie person.

  “Yeah, I was hoping to switch things around and get Monday and probably Tuesday off…uh-huh…uh-huh…oh, really? Uh-huh. Okay, thanks hun. Later.” And she hung up the phone.

  Hun?

  “So?” I asked with my teeth clenched, hoping she didn’t notice how hard I was gripping my beer bottle. That was new. Apparently, I was the possessive, jealous type.

  “Ollie is going to smooth it over with Jax so I can get both Monday and Tuesday off in case it takes that long.”

  “Ollie, huh?” I asked, failing colossally in my attempt at nonchalance.

  Fiona turned to me and cocked her head to one side. Then a little smirk hit her face and I wanted to drag her back to my lap and kiss it right off her.

  “Yes. Ollie. He’s great,” she said oh-so-causally as she picked her wine glass up and took a sip.

  I growled. Huh—seemed like Jake was right for once—I did in fact growl around Fiona.

  Okay, so this was how we were going to play this game? She was going to run away like a frightened rabbit and then turn around and try to make me jealous? This rabbit obviously didn’t know who she was dealing with.

  I rose from the sofa, taking one last pull on my mostly full beer. “Well, Shortcake, I should probably get going—got some shit to take care of.”