Rescuing the Bad Boy (Second Chance #2)(105)

EPILOGUE




Seven years later

Donovan walked through the front entry of the mansion, pausing to tug the scarf from his neck. He hung his coat on a hook next to Sofie’s. Next to hers hung two smaller coats. One dark blue and silver, the other pink.

Gertie, her eyes clouded, her head gray, padded into the room on unsteady hips. It’d been a fairly mild winter, but the cold wasn’t helping the old girl’s arthritis.

“Hey girl,” Donovan said, hanging his coat and squatting to ruffle the dog’s ears. Her tail wagged, low and slow, but it wagged.

Three pairs of boots stood drying on a mat by the door. No doubt the kids had bribed Sofie to take them sledding today since yesterday’s snow never came. Today made up for it, though, dumping several inches on the Cove. More was expected tonight.

It’d been another late workday. He’d have to make it up to them for taking the extra hours. Upstairs, he saw only dark, no night-lights glowing in the hallway. No plastic gate blocking the stairway. Which meant no one was in bed yet. Maybe they were watching television, or maybe—

“In here, honey,” came his wife’s voice.

He found Scampi in the library, sitting on the red velvet sofa. Their four-year-old daughter Miranda was curled on her side, asleep, her sock-covered feet sticking out of the blanket and propped on Sofie’s lap. Bran was asleep, too, his head on Sofie’s stomach.

Sofie put down the book she’d been reading. Donovan walked into the room, tipped her chin, and took a kiss.

“We had a fire,” she said, keeping her voice down. “They fell asleep. I didn’t have the heart to wake them.”

“You shouldn’t be carrying them up the stairs, anyway.” He lowered his face and kissed her lips again, loving her taste. He bent over Miranda next, pushing the dark hair off her forehead.

Sleepily, she opened huge blue eyes—light blue like his own. “Hi, Daddy.”

“Hey, Scallop. Need you to walk upstairs yourself. I have to carry Bran. Can you do that for me, sweetie?”

She nodded and stretched, knowing the extra effort was needed. Donovan lifted Bran into his arms, revealing his wife’s baby bump their two-year-old boy had been using as a pillow. Bran didn’t stir, not even when his head hit Donovan’s shoulder solidly. Hardheaded kid. No doubt where he’d inherited that trait.

Sofie attempted to push herself up, and Donovan looped an arm around her waist to help her. She was only five months, but already very round.

“They’re killing me,” she grumbled.

“It’s my last late night,” he promised.

“You bet your sweet cheeks it is. We’re gonna need you around here.”

“Yeah, Daddy,” Miranda said. “Mommy says if the twins are girls you’ll be in big trouble.” Trouble came out like twubble, which made him smile.

One more. He and Sofie had decided to have one more child. Then came the news there were two incubating in her belly. Two.

But they could handle it. Together, with their friends and family backing them, he could handle anything. Straight through.

“Know what, Scallop? You don’t have to worry about me. Your dad is a big, bad, mansion-owning bada—”

“Tough guy,” Sofie interrupted, reaching around to discreetly pinch his ass. Careful not to drop Bran, he bent to the side and kissed his wife.

“Tough guy,” he repeated to Miranda as he straightened.

Upstairs, Sofie tucked their daughter in, who requested one more story before bed. Donovan put Bran down, who had yet to acknowledge he was being jostled around in his father’s arms, then checked the locks in the house, and set up the baby gate.

Once the kids were down, Donovan and Sofie reconvened in the shower under the multiple sprayers, him enjoying the hot, hot water loosening muscles that were aching from the lifting he’d done at work today.

Sofie traced the heart Evan had added to the infinity tattoo on Donovan’s ribs.

“Worth it?” she asked.

“I was able to save the original fireplace so it didn’t have to be torn out. You wouldn’t believe how particular the historical society is about mortar. But yeah, I think it will be.”

He pushed the water off his face and saw a smile curl her lips.

“I mean this life. Leaving New York, living in a huge house that needs constant upkeep. Burying your bad memories in order to stay in Evergreen Cove.”

“Worth it, Scampi.” He wrapped his arms around her, his thumb coming up to brush the matching heart Evan had tattooed around her infinity sign. “Wouldn’t change a thing.”

“Me neither.”

He palmed her breast.

She kissed him. He savored her, the way he had since he won her back years ago.

“How are you still this sexy?” he murmured against her mouth.

“Hmm. I could ask you the same question.”

After another long kiss under the hot water, she pulled away to ask, “So… what are you doing Saturday?”

“I’m planning a quiet evening at home with my wife and kids.” He narrowed one eye.

“You only turn forty once.” She grinned but couldn’t meet his eyes.

“Scampi.” His tone was a warning. “We talked about this.”