Rescuing the Bad Boy (Second Chance #2)
Jessica Lemmon
For Shannon Richard. Proof God knows what he’s doing when he finds friends for me. Thank you for your undying support and for being my water cooler pal in our virtual office.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Donovan Pate and Sofie Martin have led many, many alternate lives. As an author, you start out with an idea and as you learn to improve, things change. Ideas shift, making the old idea, well, not bad, but not right. Finally, Donovan and Sofie are right.
I believe RESCUING THE BAD BOY, after its first inception in 2010 (its last in 2014), has turned out exactly as it should have. That said, there are thank-yous to dole out. Climb into the way-back machine with me, because some of these are long overdue.
Heidi Betts. Long a fan of your work, I couldn’t have been more grateful to have access to a “real” author who offered advice, humor, and more importantly, belief that I would succeed before there was any proof that I would. You gave me my first cover quote. You asked me to do a beta read for you. You validated me. Thank you.
Sarah Mayberry, how do I love thee? You live on the other side of the big, blue ocean, but I connected via e-mail, gushing about how much I adored your writing. I also admitted I wanted to grow up and be a writer, like you. You didn’t laugh. You didn’t blow me off. You asked if you could send me the transcript of a speech you’d given about plot and character. I was so grateful to learn, to grow, to be taken seriously. Thank you for believing in me.
Cynthia Reese. You were the first published author to read a chapter I’d written. (Thank you, Julie Musil, for the introduction.) While that book will likely never see the light of day, I will never forget your assessment of my very green prose. You told me I could write. You told me my voice reminded you of Patricia Gaffney. I was so overjoyed to hear I wasn’t wasting my time, I could have kissed you.
Everyone who followed my blog, Sm:)e Feel Good. You joined me in my journey to publishing, commenting, rallying, cheering me on—even with nothing to gain for yourselves. Thank you for your support.
Thank you, beta readers (new versions and old), Niki Hughes, Amy Wade, Piper Trace, Amber Dunlevy, Charissa Weaks, Teri Anne Stanley, Jeannie Moon.
Thanks to Maisey Yates, not only for your friendship, but for your advice on so many things—including writing a hero who’d suffered a stint of… um… denying himself. You are a master!
Thank you to my readers, for sticking with me from one series to the next. I hope you know how much I truly appreciate your comments online, your e-mails, and meeting you at signings. I love creating characters you love.
As always, thank you to my editor, Lauren Plude, publicist, Julie Paulauski, agent, Nicole Resciniti, and everyone hammering away at Grand Central/Forever to make this book real.
Every word in this book has been toiled over, fretted about, and above all else, loved into creation. Donovan and Sofie made the journey worth it for me. I hope you feel the same way.
~Jess
PROLOGUE
The row of sconces lining the hallway cast a yellowish glow across the mansion foyer, doing little to illuminate the floor, the thick drapes covering the windows, or the staircase leading to the murky beyond.
Not that Donny Pate needed light to see what he was doing. Who he was doing.
Who I’m about to do…
One hand cradling Sofie Martin’s incredible ass, his mouth explored hers, the length of his body pressing her back to the heavy wooden door. Her, he could see.
Every pliant inch felt as amazing as it looked.
He bit her earlobe and she arched her back, rubbing her little black dress against his sweater and jeans. The blood in his head rushed directly to his crotch. He’d tasted her mouth at the bar, sucked on her tongue for several minutes in his Jeep parked outside the mansion, and now, this up-against-the-door thing was trying every last ounce of his willpower.
He might die if he didn’t get inside her soon.
It’d been a shit week, one he’d rather forget, followed by a shit night that was turning out pretty damn good. Tonight’s company Christmas party had been boring as hell, but the manager at the Wharf required everyone be in attendance if they wanted to get their bonus checks. Donny needed that bonus. He was leaving this godforsaken town the minute the check cleared.
Cheesy decorations had been strewn across the restaurant’s dining room, a tinny version of “Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer” piping through an ancient sound system. Donny had relegated himself to chain-smoking and drinking with his jackass coworkers, making tonight not unlike any other Saturday in Evergreen Cove.
Until the tip of Sofie’s cute, upturned nose poked around a dividing wall. Then his evening took a decidedly more interesting turn.
She’d been sending him furtive glances from the bar all evening, while pretending to sip the beer she’d opened shortly after walking through the door. Caught, a playful smile curled her lips.
Sofie wasn’t one to wear a f*ck-me smile with a skin-tight black dress, all while blinking bedroom eyes. Tonight, she’d done all three. That was the smile of a girl determined to make a mistake.
Her lucky night.
To quote his recently deceased, formerly belligerent old man, Donny was most definitely “a mistake.”
Often, her gaze slid to him in the kitchen at work—amid the clatter of cooking utensils, tall, steel shelves, and fifteen to twenty other servers and cooks. In the midst of clashing pans and the general chaos of a dinner rush, Donny had caught her moss green eyes on him more than once. And, more than once, he’d allowed his eyes to travel south.