Rescuing the Bad Boy (Second Chance #2)(108)

A reaction that made no sense. She should have expected the man to go on a date now and again. Connor was a ridiculously attractive man. This date was likely not the first date he’d had since she re-met him for the second time. Faith knew he had to date. It was just that she preferred not to know who he dated. Or what they did together…

Which confused her. He was her friend. She should be rooting for him.

Even though, it took a lot of effort to get the words, “Ohh, a date. Have fun!” past her lying lips.

“Plan on it.” His eyes jerked to one side, a strained silence settling between them. “I should get started so I can get out of here on time.” He lifted a tool belt full of garden trowels and other implements for digging in the dirt.

“Yeah. I have to get back in there.” She showed him her pink-glittered palm. “Try and clean myself up.”

His grin returned and she had to remind her knees to stay strong. Her entire body seemed to forget it was a cohesive unit whenever he was around. One by one, parts of her turned to jelly. Kneecaps oozed, her spine melted, and the part between her legs… Well, she wasn’t going to think about that part.

“Have a good day,” she told him.

“You got it, gorgeous.” He stepped past her, not sending another look over his shoulder, not giving her a flirtatious wink, not saying another word. Just a brief interaction before he walked to the far side of the house and vanished around the wall.

Faith reminded herself yet again that what Charlie and Sofie had was fine for them, but not something she wanted personally. One look at sunny, smiling Connor McClain and she’d forgotten.

But she couldn’t afford to forget. A relationship with a man from the Cove was not in Faith’s future. No man from anywhere was in her foreseeable future. Because she had accepted the fact that her mother, Linda Shelby, as harebrained and crazy as she was, was also right.

The Shelby curse was real. Shelby women didn’t marry. Couldn’t marry. No matter how hard they tried.

Faith had attempted an engagement with Michael and failed. A failure that ended up being a blessing. Yes, she thought as she reached the front door.

Things had turned out exactly as they should have.





Connor sneaked a glance over his shoulder as he walked away.

Legs. Heaven help him, legs up to her neck.

How he encountered a woman who looked like a Victoria’s Secret model but was as down-to-earth as they came on a daily basis and hadn’t begged her to go to bed with him was an epic accomplishment on his part.

Admittedly, parts of him had wanted parts of her since he laid eyes on her for the first time years ago when they worked at the Wharf together. But then, he’d been an eighteen-year-old busboy, and she the leggy waitress, waify but all woman—even in her early twenties.

When he’d run into her again a little over a year ago, he learned that want wasn’t just leftover from a horny teenage crush. He still responded to her looks. Then again, who didn’t? But he wasn’t an idiot. Sleeping with the girl who was his buddy’s girl’s best friend was the crowning jewel in the crown of Stupid. And, after the shit that went down with Faith’s ex, it’d be some time before she was interested in crawling into bed with Connor.

With anyone.

Damn if the thought of her crawling didn’t insert an image into his head of her tiny, pert ass in the air, those mile-long legs…

He blinked out of the mirage, blaming her outfit today: a dark blue dress that matched her navy eyes and a pair of shoes that made those long legs even longer. Was she actively trying to kill him?

So, yeah, it hadn’t escaped him she was beautiful. And it hadn’t stopped him from teasing her as often as possible to get those pink lips to part into a smile. He was a sucker for a cheap laugh, and in spite of what she’d been through, it’d been fairly easy to get her to laugh. Which swelled the head on his shoulders almost as much as the one in his pants.

She hadn’t been laughing a moment ago when he mentioned the word date, though, had she? He’d be lying if he said he didn’t find that more than a little interesting. His “date” was more an appointment—with his sister, Kendra. Ken was having trouble with her car, and he offered to come over and take a look.

One of the many services he provided since he’d moved back to town. Not that he minded. He’d do anything for his two older sisters.

Connor’s family was tight. His father owned McClain’s Handyman Services, a business that had served the town of Evergreen Cove since before his oldest sister Dixie was born. A few years after, they had Kendra, and five years later, Connor was born the baby of the family.

Roger McClain had been overjoyed. A boy to take over the business. When Connor grew up and showed zero interest in fixing anything, save for himself in front of a science project, Roger began applying pressure. The pressure kept coming, driving Connor right out of the house at age eighteen, where he’d met Donny and the two of them had shared an apartment and made some spectacularly bad decisions.

Last year, after moving back to New York, Donovan had returned, deciding to stay in the Cove after all. They all had Sofie to thank for that. Connor smiled up at the mansion looming in the light, her clean windows shiny, gleaming. He was glad. Donny belonged in this town, and belonged with Sofie.

Connor dug out a pair of shears from his tool belt before dropping it into the grass and starting on the scraggly lavender bush at the side of the house. No matter what he did to save it, the thing tried to die. Part of him wanted to dig it up, toss it in the fire pit, but another, more stubborn part of him thought it might be saved.