Rescuing the Bad Boy (Second Chance #2)(100)

“Okay, then. Now are you going to tell me the whole truth about this guy, the dog, and the mansion, or do I have to guess?”

“Please don’t, Daddy.” She gave him a pleading look.

“Sofia.” She could tell by his expression he wasn’t going to let it go. “I have been watching you go through something for the past couple of weeks. And it hasn’t been fun for me to watch. But you know me. I don’t get involved unless my girls need me. Do you need me?”

If anything brought forth the tears she’d been damming over the course of those weeks, it was her father’s blatant offer. A few spilled down her cheeks.

“I need you, Daddy.”

He patted the couch cushion next to him and Sofie stood from the recliner and moved into his waiting arms. He hugged her close, keeping his arm around her. With the TV flashing silently in the background, he silently waited for her to spill.

So she started at the beginning.

“I met him seven years ago. Donny was the one. I mean, I thought he was the one. Turned out he was just the one who got more than he bargained for, then left town.” Sofie averted her gaze and asked her lap, “Do you know what I mean by that? Because this would be a lot easier if I didn’t have to spell things out.”

Her father’s hand on her arm moved up and down. “I think I do.”

“He inherited the mansion and came back to sell it. When he came back, so did the feelings I had for him. But what I didn’t know was he had feelings for me, too.”

Those feelings had resurfaced and bubbled over—for both of them. Donny gave her a do-over, and in a way, gave himself one. As promised, he’d made love to her, and she felt certain that was a first for him, too.

“He loves me,” she said, the pain of that admission raining down on her like acid. “He said he’d never loved anyone before. He was raised in an abusive home. Gertrude Pate turned her life around at the end, but Donny’s father died having never apologized for what he’d done to him.”

She could hear the frown in her father’s tone. “Abuse.”

“Yeah.” Sofie’s voice broke on the word. “He has these amazing tattoos. He got them to cover the scars. So many scars,” she whispered. Then almost to herself she said, “You know my infinity tattoo?”

“The one I see when you wear the bathing suit I think you shouldn’t.”

“That’s the one.” She chuckled but it quickly faded. “Donny got an infinity sign to match mine. He said I’m one of his scars, Daddy. But a good one… If that makes sense.”

Her father was quiet for a moment before he admitted, “Makes sense.”

“I guess I thought after we connected on such a deep level… After we both admitted how much we loved one another…” She shook her head, the loss stinging like a fresh cut. “I thought I could save him.”

Her dad was quiet, his eyes on the television screen, but she knew he was thinking. That was his way. She waited, folding her legs underneath her and picking at the hem of her skirt.

“Remember when we went on a family camping trip?” he said, interrupting the silence. “I think you were about eight years old. Cumberland Falls. Beautiful place.”

“I remember sleeping in a tent on top of a very sharp rock.” She smiled to herself. “I remember loving every minute of it. And I remember Lacey complaining constantly, because her hair was frizzy and there was nowhere for her to plug in her curling iron.”

Her father laughed. “And Kinsley was glued to your mother’s side.” He elbowed Sofie gently. “But you, you were my partner in crime that trip. Remember the walks we took to get firewood?”

“And the falls. We hiked a mile to get to them.”

“Worth the extra effort.”

They were. The falls were majestic, and at the time, the most beautiful landmark she’d ever seen.

“And you found the bird,” he said.

The bird. She had forgotten. Completely forgotten.

“Oh yeah. The one with the broken leg.”

“You were bound and determined to save that little sparrow. It had taken a dive-bomb out of the nest. I knew there was no prayer it would survive.”

She remembered now. “I kept him in a Pop-Tart box with some grass. I wrapped the box in a towel.”

“You stayed up all night,” he said. “Or tried, anyway.”

“You took a shift.” She smiled up at him.

He smiled back. “It meant so very much to you.”

“Even though you knew it was futile.”

“Even though.”

Sofie dragged in a deep breath, understanding why he’d brought up the bird. Understanding everything. “It was dead by morning. I couldn’t save him. No matter how much I wanted to.” Tears she’d rather not cry spilled over.

He gave her a squeeze.

“You’re saying I can’t save Donovan,” she said.

“No.” Her father took her hand. “Sofie, sweetheart, I’m saying you already have.”

Hope flared in her chest. Hope she had no use for. But her father, in a way, had a point. Donovan, who had never been in love, had fallen in love with her. He may have left the dog behind, but not before he gave in and called her “Gertie.” He’d also cared for and slept in the house he proclaimed to hate—pouring his heart into repairing the fireplace. Placing a heart-shaped stone in its center.