Spark of Time: MacKenny Brothers Series Book 5: an MC/Band of Brothers Romance

by Kathleen Kelly

  Chase walks over to the counter and orders us both eggs over medium, two pieces of crispy bacon, toast, and a side of pancakes with maple syrup.

  “How do you like your coffee?” he asks.

  With wide eyes, I stare at him. No one has ever ordered for me before and gotten it so wrong. I don’t want to cause a scene, so I say nothing about the breakfast.

  “Umm, black coffee and water, please?”

  Chase grins and looks at the lady taking our order. “You heard the lady, and I’ll have a coffee Frappuccino, tall.”

  The woman nods, and I’m a little embarrassed by the way Chase spoke to her. He opens his wallet, and instead of handing the money to her outstretched hand, he puts it on the counter. She gives him a death stare, and he’s completely oblivious to her discomfort. Picking the money up, she presses a button on the cash register. It opens, and she pulls out his change and puts it in his hand with a big smile. “Thank you so much. Please take a seat, and we’ll get your order right out to you.”

  Her eyes come to me, and I smile at her. “Thank you so much. We really appreciate it.”

  The woman does a double-take on me and nods. No doubt she’s confused by the two of us—one incredibly rude and the other trying too hard to be nice. We sit near the front of the café, and Chase reaches over, taking my hand in his.

  “You ordered for me?”

  “I eat here occasionally. I thought I’d speed up the process. You don’t mind, do you?”

  He runs his thumb across my knuckles. “I don’t eat meat every day. Too much processed red meat is bad for you. I try to eat fish or chicken, even pork a few times a week, but red meat is only once or twice.” Chase pulls away from me. “To be honest, I don’t eat a lot of red meat at all and prefer vegetables.”

  “Well, no wonder you’re too thin.”

  I blanch at his statement. Some women worry about excess weight, but with me, it’s the opposite. I have to try exceptionally hard to put on weight. Being told I’m too thin is hurtful. I wrap my arms around myself.

  Chase grits his teeth and leans forward, and in a quiet tone, he says, “I’m sorry. I’m trying to be the big man. I’m trying to impress you, and I’ve come off as a buffoon. Please, Isabelle, accept my apology.”

  He seems sincere, and again he’s pouting.

  “You were also rude to the lady who took our order.”

  “I was?”

  “You didn’t see the death stare she gave you?”

  Chase rises and goes back to the woman. They both stare at me, and she smiles and nods. Chase holds one hand to his chest as he speaks to her, and although I can’t hear what he’s saying, he looks as though he’s trying to win her over. The woman blushes and giggles as she nods at him.

  Chase comes back to our table and smiles at me. “All fixed. And I promise it’ll never happen again.”

  Not knowing what to say, I nod.

  A server arrives and puts down our coffees and dashes off to give someone else their order.

  “How did you get involved in events?”

  “My mom and dad had a patisserie. When they died, it came to me.”

  “Your parents are dead? So just you and your sister?”

  “Yes. They died in a plane crash five years ago, so it’s just been Charlotte and me ever since.”

  Chase sips his drink. I wrap my hands around my cup, enjoying the warmth. It’s not that it is cold outside, but the air conditioning must be set on freezing inside the café.

  “Do you still have the patisserie?”

  Smiling, I shrug. “Sort of? Mom and Dad owned the building that the patisserie was in, and we lived upstairs. I still have it, but I wasn’t much of a baker back then and certainly not a pastry chef, so I went into events. I kept a few of my mother’s staff and changed gears. We only open the patisserie on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. It’s managed by the woman who worked for my parents. She does most of the baking. They also do all the catering for my events throughout the week.”

  “Sounds like hard work, and I noticed you said your mother’s staff. Surely, your dad was in charge?”

  His question throws me. Mom and Dad had a partnership, but it was my mother’s call when it came to running the patisserie.

  “No, Dad was happy to follow Mom’s lead. She was the one with the head for business.”

  Our meals arrive, and for a time, our conversation ceases. I start with the eggs even though I prefer them scrambled. Chase digs into his meal like a man starving. I’ve eaten one egg and one side of bacon, and he’s finished. I’m wondering if he chews his meals or simply inhales. Chase reaches over and swipes a piece of toast off my plate.

  “My mother never worked. Her family originally came from Vermont. Grandmother’s family were textile merchants where my father’s family was in shipping.”

  “The Kelly family is well known in Chicago.”

  Chase puffs out his chest and smiles. “Yes. We’ve always worked hard. Hard work and family… that’s all that matters.”

  “That we can agree on.”

  I push the plate away from myself, having only eaten the eggs, one piece of bacon, and half a piece of toast.

  “Not hungry?”

  “It’s early. I’m still waking up.”

  “Do you mind?” asks Chase as he reaches for my plate.

  “No, please help yourself.”

  He grins at me and quickly finishes the rest of my meal. Watching him devour everything, I’m once again comparing him to a shark. I sip my coffee and wait until he wipes his mouth with a napkin before I speak.

  “About tonight. I really shouldn’t.”

  Chase’s face falls. “Why?”

  “You’re a client.”

  “Not anymore. Besides, you’re my prize. I beat you, and all I’m asking for is a date.”

  I don’t like his tone, but his family is highly influential, and they could destroy my business. Reluctantly, I nod.

  Chase smiles and reaches for my hand. “I promise you’ll have a good time. The water at sunset is beautiful.”

  “Which boat are you taking out?”

  “Yacht,” he corrects me. “The Mary-Lou. She was the first yacht I ever owned. She’s a classic motor yacht built in 1928. Mary-Lou is sixty-two feet of old-world luxury.” Chase talks about it like it’s a living thing.

  “Well, your yacht sounds lovely.”

  “Do you need me to pick you up?”

  I shake my head. “No, I’ll drive down to the marina. Which one is Mary-Lou docked at?”

  “Belmont. I’ll meet you on the pier.”

  As I stand, Chase immediately rises to his feet. I’m five foot three, so he towers over me. Leaning down, he kisses my cheek.

  “I’m looking forward to tonight. Bring a warm jacket… it can get cold out on the water.”

  Smiling up at him, I nod. “Will do, see you at six.”

  “Is it okay if you come a little earlier? Say five thirty?”

  “I can do that.”

  “It’s easier for the staff.”

  Smiling, I head for the door and retrace my steps back to the river. I’m too stuffed with food to jog my normal route, but I can walk instead. The streets are now overflowing with people and cars as they hurry about their day.

  In a way, this is nice. I don’t normally take in my surroundings, but focus on my breathing and pace.

  This is a pleasant distraction.

  Perhaps Chase Kelly will be the same.

  Isabelle

  The wind has picked up, making me a little nervous about going out on the lake. I wanted to cancel, but Chase Kelly is a big client, and I don’t want to upset him or his family.

  I’m wearing jeans, sneakers, a white t-shirt, and a Chicago Bulls jacket. Sitting in my car, staring at Chase as he chats with someone on the docks, I realize I’m underdressed. He’s wearing a black suit with a crisp white shirt. When he said to bring a jacket because it could get cold out on the water, I thought it was code for dress warm. Lett
ing out a breath, I lean forward and rest my head on the steering wheel. I have two options—I can go down and meet him, or I can phone him and tell him something has come up, and I can’t make it. The latter seems like the best course of action. Hell, I didn’t even bother to do my hair and simply pulled it up in a ponytail. Chase said sailing, so I envisioned my hair being blown everywhere and thought this was the best way to tame it.

  A knock on my window has me sitting up and coming face to face with Chase. He’s smiling, but he looks confused, and he motions for me to wind down my window.

  “Are you feeling okay?” he asks.

  “Yes,” I blurt out and then wish I’d lied.

  “Do you still want to come out for a sail?”

  I wind up the window, grab my purse, and open the car door. Chase holds out his hand to help me out of the car.

  “You’re dressed nicely.”

  Chase frowns. “I had to go to work today. The office girls told me you dropped off the alcohol, but you didn’t say hello.”

  “I thought you’d be busy.”

  “I’m never too busy for you. Shall we?” He holds out his arm, gesturing toward the boats.

  Looking down at my outfit, I frown. “I think I’m a little underdone for tonight.”

  “Nonsense. It gets cold out on the water, and you’re dressed exactly right. I have a windbreaker in the cabin that I can change into if I get cold.”

  Wishing the ground would open up and swallow me whole, I give him a tight smile and lock my car. I’m here now. I might as well suck it up.

  Chase takes my hand and walks me swiftly along the docks. Many of the other boaties say hello, and he waves and smiles, clearly in his element. When we get to the Mary-Lou, she’s a two-tone beauty. The lower part of the boat is a dark blue, and the upper is white with lots of teak and stainless steel. She has two masts that tower over her.

  “She’s beautiful.”

  Chase smiles and climbs on board, then holds out his hands for me. Everything onboard is pristine, and she doesn’t look her age.

  “How long have you had her?”

  “She was a gift when I turned sixteen. Of course, she wasn’t in as good as shape as she is now, but the Mary-Lou has been a labor of love.” With my hand still in his, Chase leads me around the boat and into the main salon. “Would you like a tour?”

  “Oh, yes, please.”

  Chase grins, obviously happy that I like his yacht. The inside is all dark wood and stainless steel. The wood has intricate carvings, letting you know it’s from a bygone era. Reaching out, I touch the polished surface near the entrance to the salon.

  “It’s mahogany, teak floors, and lots of love.”

  The way he talks about her, it’s obvious he adores her.

  “Did it take long to bring her back to her former glory?”

  Chase nods. “Years.” He pulls me through the salon, and we walk down a small hallway that leads into a bedroom. “This is the master cabin.” He points to our left. “That door leads to the head and this door…” he points to the right of us, “… leads to a walk-in closet.”

  I let go of his hand and open the door to the ensuite. It’s decorated with more polished mahogany but also has a lot of marble.

  “How many people can you sleep on board?”

  Chase is leaning against the frame of the door. “She can accommodate six guests and three crew.”

  “Is everything as lavish as this?”

  Chase chuckles and nods. “Yes. The style is—”

  “Art deco.”

  Chase nods. “Yes.” He smiles approvingly at me.

  “It’s so extravagant.” I move past him toward the king-size bed and run my fingers along the polished wood near the head of it. Peering down, I ask, “Is this onyx?”

  “Yes,” replies Chase, and I jump as I hadn’t realized he was right behind me.

  He moves even closer and touches the surface, tracing the line of black. “Few people even notice it or realize it’s onyx. I’m impressed.”

  Feeling a little boxed in, I skirt around him and walk back toward the door.

  Chase turns around and holds his arms wide. “Do you like her?”

  Smiling at him, I nod. “Yes. The workmanship is impeccable.”

  Chase walks toward me, his hand grasps mine, and he leads me back to the salon.

  “Are you hungry?”

  “Starved.”

  Smiling, he guides me up a set of stairs and into a dining room. There are two women there pouring champagne into flutes.

  “Mr. Kelly, we’re ready to set sail if you are?”

  “Tell Captain Smith to take her out.”

  They disappear, leaving us alone. Chase picks up a glass and hands it to me.

  “Here’s to a lovely voyage and all that it brings.”

  I clink glasses with him. “Cheers.”

  We both take a sip, and Chase pulls out a dining chair for me. Like everything else on this boat, the table is highly polished. The setting is quite formal, with white napkins and silver cutlery laid out for two. Chase sits at the head of the table, and I’m to his left.

  “Are you going to sail her out?”

  Chase shakes his head. “No. I wanted to spend time with you to get to know you better.”

  “That’s sweet.”

  This man seems so different from the obnoxious oaf this morning, who was nothing more than a petulant child. Perhaps being in his own element has put him at ease?

  One of the female crew comes back in with a tray and places it on the table. “I’m Celeste. And these are parmesan-crisp canapes with smoked salmon and lemon creme fraiche.”

  “Nice to meet you, Celeste. These look delicious!”

  Celeste glances at Chase, then smiles at me. “They are.” Chase nods at her, and she says, “Tonight, we have a seven-course degustation menu for you.”

  I glance at Chase. “You didn’t need to go to all that trouble for me.”

  “Nonsense! And besides, the crew rarely gets to entertain anyone. Let alone a woman as delectable as you.”

  My face heats at his compliment, and I blurt out, “I’m sure you’ve had plenty of women on the Mary-Lou.”

  Celeste smirks and backs out of the room quickly.

  “What?”

  “I just meant, you’re Chase Kelly, and women must throw themselves at you.”

  Chase picks up his glass and takes a sip, then slowly shakes his head. “No. I’m not saying I’ve never had a woman on board, but I don’t bring women to the Mary-Lou.” He looks around the room. “You’re special.”

  Not knowing what to say, I take a large gulp of my champagne, and it goes down the wrong way. In my hurry to put the glass on the table, I miss it, and it shatters on the floor. I’m coughing, tears running down my face as Chase stands then hits me on the back.

  “Are you okay?”

  I’m nodding, coughing, and completely mortified. Celeste comes into the room, pours me a glass of water, and places it in front of me as I continue to cough. The other crew member walks in and begins to gather the glass shards on the floor.

  After a few minutes, I manage to stop coughing. “I’m s-so sorry!”

  Chase sits back down as the two women clean up my mess, pour me another drink, and then discreetly leave the room.

  “You’re not used to being told you are special or pretty or delectable, are you?”

  “What gave it away? The choking or the clumsiness?” Using a napkin on the table, I wipe my face. “Maybe we should call it a night?”

  Chase shakes his head. “We’ve already left the dock. It’d be a shame to turn around now.” He points toward the master cabin. “Why don’t you go freshen up?”

  Nodding, I stand and go to the bathroom. Looking at myself in the mirror, my mascara is running down my face, my eyes are bloodshot, and I’m all flushed.

  “You look delectable,” I whisper to myself.

  Using a washcloth, I wipe off what’s left of my makeup. The woman stari
ng back at me looks better, not as flushed and not such a wreck. I poke my tongue at myself and go back to Chase. He’s standing outside, windbreaker on, staring into the darkening sky. As I open the door, he turns and holds out a glass to me.

  I take it and shrug. “Are you sure you want to risk it?”

  Chase smiles. “I think you’re worth it.”

  Laughing, I shake my head.

  Chase cocks his head to the side and places an arm around me. “Here’s to many more nights just like this, broken glasses and all.”

  Without any warning, his lips brush mine, and my body ignites with a fire I haven’t felt in a long time. The doors to the salon open, and Chase guides me back inside. My head is trying to understand what the hell just happened, but my body wants more. Like a child, he walks me back to my seat. I sit automatically, and Chase takes his position at the head of the table. He reaches for one of the canapes and puts it on my plate.

  “Eat something. You’ll feel better.”

  Picking up the small parmesan crisp, I put the whole thing into my mouth. An explosion of flavor tantalizes my tastebuds.

  “Oh my God! This is delicious!”

  Chase nods and laughs as he eats one. “The chef will be pleased.”

  Each course is better than the last. Although they are small, I’m stuffed by the time the seventh course—a dessert—reaches us.

  “This is a vanilla bean, crème brûlée served with cream and fresh raspberries.” Celeste smiles at me.

  “Thank you.” I wait until she’s left the room, then I whisper to Chase, “I’m not sure I can fit it in.”

  Chase chuckles. “How about we go for a walk around the deck? The sea air is good for reviving the appetite.”

  Chase stands and holds out a hand to me. I take it, and we walk out into the crisp night air.

  “Ladies first.” Chase motions for me to walk down the side of the yacht to the front.

  It’s scary, the water is dark and ominous, and the only lights are from the shore and boat. The walkway is narrow with handrails but it opens up as I get to the front, and a long bench faces forward.