Rescuing the Bad Boy (Second Chance #2)(109)

A few minutes into his pruning, the patio door opened and out ambled Gertie, a big white and brown mutt Donny had rescued last year. Sofie followed close on Gert’s heels. When she reached him, she licked his face without warning—Gertie. Not Sofie.

Sofie gestured to him with her cell phone. “Mrs. Anderson called and asked when you’d be over to set up for the Harvest Fest.”

“On the docket for this week.” Like he’d told Mrs. Anderson already. Twice. Persistent little old lady, he was learning. And tough. He’d attempted to backtalk her once and suffered her wrath. She was not a librarian to be trifled with.

“Sorry, she can be kind of a pain.” Sofie wrinkled her cute nose. Donny’s brunette girlfriend was a catch and a half. Bright, adorable, and would do anything for anyone. Connor loved her to pieces.

“Kind of?” he asked with a smile.

She laughed.

Sofie had moved into the mansion after Donovan came home for good. She also moved her event planning business here, rather than keeping her storefront on Endless Avenue. Donovan had simply moved his work here. He did custom masonry and fireplace design, indoor and out. He stayed busy.

Connor pushed himself to standing and bent over to pet Gertie’s flank. The dog that had showed up in the backyard skin and bones last spring had put on plenty of weight. Her coat was glossy, her pale blue eyes bright.

“Good girl, aren’t you? Yes you are.”

Gertie wagged her tail and leaned against his leg, smiling up at him.

“Tell you what,” he said to Sofie, “I have a few hours to kill this afternoon, why don’t I stop by there and make sure Mrs. Anderson knows I’m on top of things.” It was an inconvenience, but not a big one. Like he’d do anything for his sisters, he’d do anything for his friends, too. And that included Sofia Martin.

“Really?” She looked relieved with her hands pressed flat against her collarbone.

“Really.” He gathered his tool belt and trowel, then kissed her forehead as he ambled by.

Before he made it to his work truck, she called out, “Faith said you had a date tonight.”

Did she, now? He turned and raised an eyebrow, tossing his tools into the front seat. Sofie was fishing and he wasn’t giving her anything.

Before he climbed into his truck, he called out, “See you tomorrow.”

“Tease!” She threw a hand at him as he reversed out of his parking space.

Yeah, let that get back to Faith. He didn’t mind stoking her jealousy. Not at all. Maybe if she thought he was dating someone, she’d openly pursue him. Wouldn’t that be something?

In town, he passed Cup of Jo’s, Fern’s Florist, and the now vacant storefront that used to be Sofie’s event planning company.

His company, C. Alan Landscaping, had no home base. Not technically. Right now billing was done on his phone and in his head, and there was a box of receipts overflowing on his kitchen table. Probably he should do something about that.

When he’d first started doing odd jobs for himself and giving fewer hours helping out his father at McClain’s, he hadn’t needed a fancy accounting system. The busier he became, the more paperwork dogged him. Organization was not his forte.

Sofie was partially responsible for the recent influx of business. She’d referred him for a number of local events. So did Faith. And since she was Sofie’s assistant, he talked and worked with her as closely as he did Sofe.

Being around a creature as gorgeous as Faith Garrett tried every ounce of his libido. And because her jackass of a fiancé had cheated on her, she also tried every ounce of Connor’s sympathy. He knew what it felt like to be cheated on. The gut-wrenching knowledge that you meant so little to the someone you pledged your life to. He may not have caught Maya in the act, but he’d caught her after the fact.

Way after the fact.

At least Faith didn’t marry the dickhead. Bullet dodged. That last thought hit him square in the chest. He had dodged a bullet, too. Several of them.

Literally.

He pulled around the back of the library and shut off the engine, resting his head on the steering wheel. Drawing a deep breath, he blew it out while counting down from five. It never erased the horrific visual behind his eyes, but it did enable him in getting on with his day.

When he raised his head, he found Mrs. Anderson shuffling in her orthopedic shoes, her wrinkled mouth pulled taut, determination in her deep-set eyes.

He lifted a hand in greeting and gave her a patient smile.

There was a lot of day to get on with.