Rescuing the Bad Boy (Second Chance #2)(104)

“I love you, Scampi.”

“I love you, too.” Her eyes refilled, and she bit the inside of her lip as she smiled.

She loved him. Loved him. Still.

He hugged her close and buried his face in her neck. “Thank you.”

She stroked his hair. He pulled his head up to look at her but didn’t let her go. Now that he had her, he wasn’t ever letting her go.

“What are you doing here?”

Eyes shining, she said, “I came for you.”

This woman.

“You came for me.”

“I showed up at the mansion to convince you not to sell. I found Alessandre there instead.”

“You didn’t want me to sell the mansion,” he repeated, letting that sink in.

“It’s ours. I mean, it’s technically yours, but the rooms…”

“The memories,” he finished.

“They aren’t all bad for you, are they?” She wound his hair around her fingers again, her green eyes locked on his face.

Kissing her soundly, he slid his hand to her bottom and grabbed a palm full. “You kidding me? I think of books, I get hard. Know how awkward it is to go to a public library?”

She laughed. He’d missed that sound. He’d missed her.

Serious now, he said, “I was gonna come for you.”

“I heard.”

“Yeah,” he said, recalling everything he’d said to Aless while she hovered in the background. “You heard a lot of things.”

“Did you mean it?”

Nervous, he swallowed. “Every word.”

“You want children?”

“I want you, Scampi. I want you and whatever involves us together. The mansion, kids, Dog.”

“Gertie.”

“Yeah, sweetheart. Gertie. I want it all.” His arms tightened on her waist. “I have lived without you for too long, Sofie. I convinced myself you were better off without me. You’re not. You’re better off with me. You need me. You need me to rescue you from ladders and keep you from going on bad dates with short lawyers.”

She smiled.

“And you need me to make love to you in every room of the mansion.”

A feisty glint flickered in her eyes. “There are a lot of rooms in the mansion.”

“Thirty-five.”

“Thirty-five,” she repeated, her voice lilting.

“Nine at my place.” He tilted his head in the direction of the guesthouse.

“Nine, hmm.” Her smile faded slowly, her expression turning serious. “My answer is yes.”

His heart stopped beating for a second before mule-kicking his chest. “Yes to…”

“Sex. At your place.”

“Right,” he said. Sex. Not exactly bad news, but he wanted to hear yes to more than the sex.

“And yes to the mansion.” She pressed a brief kiss on the center of his lips. “Yes to the library.” Another kiss. “Yes to the utility room.” Another. “Yes to the backyard. Yes to the balcony. Yes to everything, Donny.”

He smashed his mouth against hers, pushed his tongue past her lips, and cupped her ass as he brought her up into his arms. Her legs wrapped around his waist, her arms around his neck.

Pointing the direction of the hallway, he said, “There are a few rooms in this house not being used at the moment…”

“Donny.”

“Okay. My place.” He walked to the back door.

She palmed his face, smiling down at him, her wet hair a tangled mass tickling his cheeks.

“I love you,” he said again. He’d have to say it constantly to make up for the years he’d missed out on. All seven of them.

“I want three.”

He frowned, not understanding.

“Three children. But I would settle for two if three is too many.”

Okay, now his heart stopped beating. Three children. With Sofie’s green eyes. With his dark hair. With her sweetness. Her resolve. Her empathy.

He lowered her to her feet, sifted his fingers into her hair and kissed her deeply. Everything. She had given him everything. And she’d come here because she loved him. Their lips parted with a soft smooching sound.

“I don’t deserve you,” he murmured.

“Love is about getting what you don’t deserve.”

Before he could kiss her again, the back door opened and Aless and Gertie walked in.

“Excuse me,” Aless said. “Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

Donovan pulled his fingers from Sofie’s hair and faced the man who fought for him. His friends. They had fought for him. Connor. Sofie. Alessandre. Asher and Evan had been fighting for him since they were all kids. Donovan thought he’d blown his shot at having a family. He was wrong. He had a family. In the Cove, and here, in New York.

Donovan extended a hand.

Aless shook it. “Invite me to the wedding.” He scrubbed Gertie’s head. “Come on, pup.” He snapped his fingers and trotted down the stairs, the dog close on his heels.

Sofie’s mouth was ajar, a waxy pallor on her damp skin, as she muttered, “But… I don’t do weddings.”

Yeah. Hell yeah.

Donovan grinned down at his future wife. “Well, Scampi. You do now.”