Secured Sparks Read online

  Secured Sparks

  Book 4: Secured Heart series

  By

  Charity Parkerson

  Copyright Charity Parkerson © 2011

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  The scanning, uploading, and distributing of this book via the internet or via any other means without the permission of the copyright owner is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Brief passages may be quoted for review purposes if credit is given to the copyright holder. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  --Warning: This book contains graphic depictions of sexual activity including oral sex and masturbation. It is intended for mature audiences not offended by explicit representations of sexual activity between consenting adults.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved.

  Editor: Dionne Lister

  Photographer: Konrad Bak

  All rights reserved.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Death was coming for her. She saw it in her dreams. She saw him as well. Kera lived her life fast and hard because she was meant to die young; but she was also meant for him. In her dreams he made love to her so sweetly, but the reality of Weave Sparks was so much more.

  Kera only agreed to come tonight to this art exhibition, on Valentine’s Day for goodness sake, for Jacob’s peace of mind. He still suffered some paranoia issues over his wife’s safety, and she didn’t blame the poor guy. They were both raised with paranoia as their bread and butter. They were fed worst case scenarios for breakfast, but also his beautiful wife, Gracie, was now starting to show pretty nicely, and Kera knew most his worry stemmed from becoming a first-time father, so, as his cousin and fellow Safe Haven member, she felt honor-bound to watch Gracie’s back tonight. Kera undertook an assignment that kept her on the road for too long now, and she desperately wanted to get home, but she could spare a few hours for family.

  Kera was bummed about having to be here, but it only took her a moment to catch a glimpse of a sketch she wanted to buy. It was him: her dream man on paper. There were two men in the drawing; one clean cut, and one inked up, but it was the clean-cut one that caught and held her attention.

  “They’re both here tonight.”

  Gracie’s softly spoken words caused Kera to jump a foot. She hated getting caught staring almost as much as she hated to be snuck up on. She felt herself blushing—something she never did “Twins?” she asked, nodding towards the sketch and trying to draw attention away from her embarrassment.

  Gracie nodded, smiling. “Bob and Weave Sparks. They are part of the security team covering the show tonight.”

  She hated to say anything too pointed and make Gracie suspicious, so instead she asked, “Which is which?”

  Gracie tapped on the one with the tattoos. “This is Bob. He’s one of my best friends,” she tacked on for good measure, then pointing over at the clean cut one she added. “That’s Weave.”

  “Weave,” Kera repeated slowly, and Gracie mistook the reason for it.

  “I admit that it’s an unusual name, but their grandfather is Sparky Sparks, the pro-wrestler, and their father is Ace Sparks, the famous MMA fighter, so I gather their family is pretty eccentric.”

  Kera thought the name was wonderful, and she hid a snort over the fact that Gracie was telling her someone was eccentric. No one could be more so than Kera herself.

  “Would you like to meet them?”

  She very much would like to meet them, but as desperate as she was for the real-life Weave, she also knew she would see him before the end of the night.

  “No. That’s okay, but I would like to buy this sketch,” she pointed at a sketch of the twins together. Gracie eyed her closely, making Kera wonder if she was trying to read her mind. “Maybe we could trade for it?”

  “How so?” Kera asked with an uneasy feeling.

  “Let me do a sketch of you some time, and you can have the one of Bob and Weave.”

  When she only stood gawking at Gracie, unable to picture why anyone would want a sketch of her, Gracie added. “He’s very tall, you know.”

  “Who?”

  “Weave, he’s very tall. Easily six-two,” Gracie shrugged “I just thought you’d think that was important, since you’re so tall. I didn’t figure you’d want a short man.”

  It was true. Since Kera was six-foot, she didn’t really want a short man, but she would take Weave anyway she could.

  “What are you having?” Kera asked, suddenly desperate to change the subject.

  “A baby. Will you let me sketch you? I have to warn you; I’ve already done it in my mind, and you look beautiful.”

  Kera let out a bark of laughter, drawing the attention of the people around them. “I’m not taking my clothes off.”

  “I wouldn’t ask you to.”

  “I get to see it before you try to sell it, and if I hate it, you don’t sell it.”

  Gracie crossed her heart. “I won’t sell it.”

  “And I still get the sketch of Bob and Weave.”

  “It’s yours,” Gracie smiled triumphantly and started to walk away, but she froze in her tracks, turning back to Kera. “Oh, and I’m having a girl.”

  Gracie began winding her way through the crowd while Kera stood smiling at her back. Jacob was having a daughter. He was going to be the best dad ever. Inexplicably a pain shot through her chest. She’d never be a mother. She’d be dead long before then, and it was just another one of the many things she’d never have.

  ***

  He was out of practice with this security shit. He had forgotten how tedious it was. After spending a year living in Manhattan trying his damnedest to get lost in a crowd, he’d come back thinking he’d jump right back into the game, but so far he’d ended up only feeling out of sorts. Most of it was that now he was clean and sober in every way—before he had coasted through this job, now he was aware of every second of the night while he was on the clock. He was thankful to be working tonight, however, since it was Valentine’s Day, and nobody wants to be that guy at the club or worse at home alone.

  He glanced over at the clock, once more watching as the second-hand ticked slowly around the face. He wanted … he wanted to be back in the ring. He hadn’t admitted that out loud to a single soul because he wasn’t sure how people would react. They’d worry, most likely. They’d be scared he couldn’t handle the pressure, and maybe they were right. That’s what he feared the most.

  He couldn’t stand his brother’s shame any longer, or his mother’s heartache. He’d lost so many people over his mistakes, and he didn’t want to lose any more. Fighting was in his blood, and it itched to be let loose.

  He could feel it crawling beneath his skin, and it invaded his dreams. That was how it
had all begun for him. That was how his competing in the ring had begun. He’d started having these vivid dreams that he thought would make him go insane, but once he’d begun competing, they had stopped. He’d always figured it was God’s way of pushing him in the right direction, but now that he wasn’t fighting any longer, the dreams had begun again. He was exhausted—every time he closed his eyes, he was dancing around the ring fighting an invisible opponent, but there were other dreams as well. He still had nightmares about Daniel, the boy he’d accidently killed, causing his life to spiral out of control. He also dreamed of a woman. She chased away his nightmares, saving his sanity. At first he’d feared he was dreaming about Genie, but her eyes had become more and more in focus with each dream. They were a light-blue, as light as the sky, and they left him with a feeling he couldn’t shake.

  A flash of electric blue caught his attention, pulling him out of his thoughts, and he found himself winding his way through the crowd, following the bright color, as if being drawn by an invisible lure. It wasn’t until Weave had her cornered that he realized it was her hair that was that color. It was different from anything he had seen before, but it was also undeniably sexy. She watched him curiously, as if she was trying to read his mind, and he made no attempt to rush things along. She had an earring in her nose and one in her eyebrow, adding to her eccentrics, but none of it mattered, because it was just window dressing for her. She was easily the sexiest woman he had ever seen with her light, as the sky, blue eyes and full lips that begged to be kissed. Her body, damn, it would make grown men cry. She had the exact amount of perfect curves, and Weave knew he would be able to sink right into her. She was wearing a skintight cocktail dress that ended mid-thigh, and in his mind, he was already peeling it off her.

  “Are you quite through fucking me with your eyes?”

  Damn, even her voice turned him on. It was like silk sliding over his skin. “If you’ll allow me a few more moments of staring at you, I’m sure I could either muster up an excuse for my rudeness, or I could do something that would embarrass us both horribly.”

  She threw her head back in laughter, and he watched the motion, barely stopping himself from reaching over to brush his fingers along the column of her neck. “Oh you are outrageous. I was a little worried that all that clean cut you’ve got going on meant you were boring, but I think you’re hiding your real self underneath.”

  She motioned to the display she was standing next to “You’re one of the subjects of this picture, so tell me what’s wrong with it?”

  Weave glanced over at the sketch of Bob and him, and nearly groaned out loud. He’d forgotten they were meant to go on display tonight. Still, he looked at it closely, wanting to appear as if he were answering her honestly. “Bob looks like he’s a little bit wicked, but he’s not. I look like a choir boy, but I’m not.”

  “So you’re the wicked one?”

  “I think I must be,” he said more to himself. Then he noticed the sketch had a sold sign on it. “Who in their right mind would buy this thing?”

  She chuckled lightly. “Me, and I intend to hang it directly over my bed.”

  ***

  He looked like he wanted to say so many things, but he couldn’t decide which one. The sight made her want to laugh in triumph, instead she swallowed it down and held her hand out. “I’m Kera.”

  He took her hand between his much larger ones and brought it to his mouth, kissing the back of it lightly. “Weave.”

  He still held onto her hand, and she made no move to get it back. They both smiled mischievously, and someone jostled her from behind, forcing her to take a step towards him. Gracie had been right about his height. They stood nose to nose with their clasped hands pressed between them.

  “Are you busy later?” he asked huskily, making chill bumps form over her skin.

  “I’m pretty booked up tonight, and I’m guessing so are you since you’re working, but we could go to breakfast tomorrow.”

  “Or you could come home with me when this shindig is over and I could cook you breakfast in the morning?” she let out a low laugh at his offer.

  “That guy right over there made me the same offer not fifteen minutes ago,” she told him, motioning to a man lingering in the corner before asking. “Why should I take you up on it after I told him no?”

  Weave glanced over at the guy, then stepped even closer to her, bringing his body flush against hers as he lowered his head to her ear “Because that guy won’t do the things that I will. That guy won’t leave you quivering or moaning his name, but I will.” He met her eyes, and she saw the promise that his words were true. She had to take a deep breath through her nose before she could respond. “I’ll meet you out back when this thing is over. Don’t keep me waiting too long,”

  She glanced behind him and added, “and don’t back down.” She walked away just as Jacob came along.

  Weave watched her as she walked away, barely suppressing the urge to cut out early and make good on his promises now, but he couldn’t do that to Gracie. Jacob threw his arm over his shoulders “You’re still kicking I see.”

  He kept his eyes locked on Kera’s back, unable to look away as he answered, “Are you surprised?”

  “Nah, I know a dead man when I see one, and you’re nowhere near there yet, unless you ever think to hit on my wife. Then I might have to reassess the situation.”

  “What about your cousin there?” he asked, genuinely curious what Jacob’s reaction would be. Not that Jacob really had any say in the matter, but he really liked Jacob since he’d helped him out during the worst of his withdrawal, visiting him in Manhattan when sometimes his own family didn’t. Even going so far as to offer him a job with Safe Haven should Weave not feel comfortable rejoining his friends and family here once he was able to get sober. He preferred to have Jacob on board with the whole Kera thing. He really wanted to keep Jacob as a friend, and he knew he was getting ready to shock them all.

  “I’m not worried about Kera. She’s a big girl, and she is more than capable of taking care of herself. I wouldn’t advise screwing her over though, because she’s pretty handy with a knife.”

  Instead of the feeling of wariness that should have overcome him at Jacob’s words, Weave was even more turned on, and he hadn’t thought that possible.

  “Good luck,” Jacob added, “she doesn’t date. She hasn’t gone out with anyone in a long time, as far as I know. She’s got men trailing at her heels like dogs, but she doesn’t seem to want anyone.”

  “She doesn’t want any of them,” Weave said smugly “However she does want me.”

  “Well then,” Jacob cleared his throat uncomfortably “I still say good luck to you. Her mom is psychic. Her dad is the Safe Haven owner, which makes him the original assassin, and Kera is probably armed right now like Fort Knox.”

  Weave was indeed the wicked one, because he had never wanted another woman more, or maybe he was fucked in the head, which was just as possible.

  “You’re a good friend Jacob,” he said in an uncharacteristic show of emotion.

  “And you’re a good man, Weave. Don’t ever let anyone convince you otherwise.”

  Jacob squeezed Weave’s shoulders one last time before dropping his arm and taking a step away. He twisted around to look at the display “Now really man, what’s wrong with this drawing? I know my wife well enough to know that anything she adds is for a reason, and I can’t figure this one out.”

  Weave shrugged and thankfully Gracie chose that moment to join them, obviously having overheard their conversation “You’re looking at it as a whole. You need to pay closer attention to only their faces. Now that I’ve pointed you in the right direction, tell me what you see?”

  Both Weave and Jacob leaned closer to each sketch trying to figure it out for themselves. Finally, Jacob leaned back, looking concerned, and he stared hard at Weave. He could tell Jacob was reluctant to reveal what he had discovered.

  “Go ahead,” Weave urged him quietly, but Jacob only sh
ook his head, saying, “I’m truly sorry.”

  “It’s my fault,” Weave admitted on a shrug. Before turning to walk away, he heard Jacob telling Gracie she shouldn’t have put the sketches up for sale, but Jacob didn’t realize it wouldn’t have changed a thing. His brother would still hate him, even if there weren’t proof of it on paper for the whole world to see.

  ***

  “Just fucking hell,” Bob muttered under his breath as he read the incoming text message.

  What did she want from him? What did she really expect? This was text number twenty-eight for the evening, and he was getting pretty fed up with the whole damn thing. This had become the nightly routine of his life. He glanced across the room and spotted Weave prowling around the perimeter looking as if he was getting ready to crawl out of his skin. Damn; he had enough going on in his life right now, and Weave didn’t need a keeper. He’d been clean for over a year now, but it was hard for Bob not to keep a constant watch over him, expecting at any moment he’d be getting the call that told him Weave was dead in a ditch somewhere.

  ***

  She could feel his weariness all the way across the room, and Kera found herself once again standing close to him. She had told herself she wouldn’t go near him again until the end of the night, since she knew they both needed to be focused on work, but she couldn’t stay away, especially knowing he needed her. She simply stood behind him for several minutes with him unaware of her presence. She loved the view from here. His wide shoulders begged for her touch, and it took everything she had not to squeeze his ass. Finally she cleared her throat drawing his attention. A half smile played across his lips, and his eyes lowered slightly “Why are you hiding in the corner?”

  “Just enjoying the view,” she answered before asking “What do you want most in life?”

  If he was at all put off or surprised by her question, he didn’t show it. Instead he seemed to think it over. “A normal life,” he finally answered.

  “Normalcy is overrated.”

  He shook his head, “No. It’s underrated. People never realize how important a good old-fashion normal life is until nothing is as it should be anymore.”