Rescuing the Bad Boy (Second Chance #2)(107)
Yes, her best friend now lived and worked in a mansion. Sofie hadn’t expected to be very much entrenched here when she’d planned the charity dinner last year, but neither had she expected the man who’d taken her virginity years ago to sweep her off her feet.
Donovan Pate had come crashing into Sofie’s life, and she into his. Faith had a front-row seat and watched it unfold. The year before that, she’d watched her friend Charlie succumb to a similar fate—falling for the last man she never dreamed of falling for: her late best friend’s husband. Evan, a widower who’d battled his own demons after losing his wife, had moved to Evergreen Cove with his son Lyon to start over. Charlie and Evan had been inseparable since. She was a mother to an eight-year-old boy, and a very happy wife to a sexy tattoo-artist-slash-illustrator.
Yes, as of late, the Cove had played host to fairy-tale romances. Someone looking in might believe Faith, whose love life came to a screeching halt last year, might want a fairy-tale romance for herself.
That someone would be wrong.
The last thing she needed, the very last thing she wanted, was a relationship. Been there, done that, cleaned the toilet with Michael’s T-shirt. No, what she wanted more than anything was not a man. What she wanted—what she needed—was to find her independence. Freed of her fiancé and, finally, freed from living with her mother for way too long, Faith was on a path to find her inner strength.
It had to be in there somewhere.
She wasn’t going to rely on a man any longer. Donny and Sofie, Evan and Charlie, they may have worked things out, but theirs were extenuating circumstances. Each couple had meaningful history together. There was no man in her past hovering on the edge of her life, waiting to explode back in and rescue her. There was only a handful of unmemorable boyfriends and Michael.
Sad, really.
But, she thought, bucking up, she was moving on. Her life had taken a turn, but not for the worst. For the better. She’d see to that.
Leaning back into the car, she snagged her fountain Coke from the cup holder and took a long, delicious, sugar-laden sip. While she stood basking in the noonday sun, she admired Pate Mansion, her home away from home. The quartz blocks twinkled, the gold turrets standing regally against a blue sky with puffy white clouds. Admiring the house that looked more like a castle never got old, not ever. And she’d seen it a lot over the past year-plus. She spent most days here, planning events in the library-turned-office with Sofie, drinking coffee in the gorgeous kitchen, or helping set up the massive ballroom for the occasional fundraiser.
She strode toward the front door taking in the thick, trimmed hedges lining the building, the purple and orange flowering mums interspersed in between. The saplings planted out front stood strong and tall, accepting their new homes in the dirt like they’d been there from the start.
The beauty of the grounds never failed to amaze her. The door opened, and she turned her head expecting Sofie to appear, cell phone to her ear. Instead, Connor McClain strode out, and Faith’s tongue promptly welded to the roof of her mouth. Another thing that never failed to amaze her was the way this man’s muscular thighs filled out a pair of well-worn jeans.
Since she was very tall, five-ten to be exact, she guessed Connor around six-one. She couldn’t be sure, unless she was within kissing distance of his incredible mouth, but that was something she filed under N for Never happening. Never ever, she reminded herself as he grinned at her.
Her heart thrummed.
Broad shoulders molded by a long-sleeved henley, wide frame in perfect proportion, thighs pressing against worn, soft-looking denim. Yeah. There wasn’t much about the man she couldn’t appreciate. Not to mention the fact he was ex-military, worked tirelessly for his friends, and had a flirty sense of humor that almost threatened to break down the barrier she’d so firmly erected since Michael had raided the Cookie jar… so to speak.
Around a penetrating grin, Connor spoke the words, “Afternoon, Cupcake.”
Faith was sort of known for her sugar addiction. And last year when all of the crap hit the fan with her ex, it was Connor who’d caught her devouring a bakery box full of Sugar Hi cupcakes. She knew she’d never live that down.
“Good afternoon to you, Beefcake.”
His smile didn’t budge. Okay, so she wasn’t all that creative with the nicknames. But after the third time he’d teased her by calling her “Cupcake” she had to think of a retort.
Those eyes left hers, narrowing and traveling her face. Self-consciously, she smoothed the hand over her forehead where she felt her hair tickling her face. “What?”
He stepped closer to her, lifted one rugged, workingman’s hand, and brushed his fingers along her forehead. Then he held his hand up for her to see. Pink glitter.
She traded the Coke from one hand to the other, frowning down at the glitter still stuck stubbornly to her palms.
“I’ll never get this stuff off!” she said.
Brushing his hands on his jeans, his grin widened to a distracting degree. “You? How am I going to explain looking like I had a run-in with a stripper when I go on my date tonight?”
She felt her face blanch as her blood raced from her cheeks to her toes. Not at the stripper reference, even though that was mildly insulting. But the other thing. Connor had a… a date?
She tried to reel in her emotions but feared it was too little, too late. No doubt he’d seen the abject disappointment briefly flit across her face.