Rescuing the Bad Boy (Second Chance #2)(22)

Sofie’s heart pinged with the slightest bit of envy. Not because she wanted Evan for herself—although his dark mussed bedhead and turquoise gaze would give any girl a heart-flutter—but because she would be lying if she said she didn’t want someone in her life who loved her as much as he loved Charlie.

And he seriously loved Charlie.

“Hey, Evan,” Sofie greeted.

He was dressed in running shorts and a tank, his tattoos on display. A former tattoo artist, Evan hadn’t entirely given up the passion when he turned children’s book illustrator with Asher Knight at the writing helm. Evan had designed each bit of ink he wore himself. Charlie told her the stories behind them. The roses on his shoulder were for his mother and aunt who passed away too soon. The lion on his other shoulder represented his son, Lyon, the rambunctious eight-year-old who was very much thriving in Evergreen Cove. The town herself was commemorated on one of Evan’s forearms, a host of pines tracking up to his elbow. That one earmarked him and Lyon moving here last year.

He’d branded Charlie with a camera tattoo on her rib cage—her passion, adding in watercolor strokes—his passion.

Two lives. Merged.

Beautiful.

As they so often did as of late, Sofie’s thoughts turned to Donovan. She wondered the meaning behind the star on his finger, or the raven, the gnarled tree on his forearm, the arrow on the other…

So many. They had to stand for something.

“So that was it? No recognition? No moment of longing settling between you two?” Charlie asked. “It’s romantic.” Her gaze settled over Sofie’s shoulder, then softened. “Reunited after seven years apart…”

When she rerouted her gaze and saw Sofie’s look of dejection, she quickly added, “Sorry. Rose-colored glasses.”

Sofie cupped her friend’s hand over the bar. “Never apologize to me for your happiness, do you hear me? Never. My being single doesn’t mean I can’t be happy for you.” She took her hand back and waved dismissively. “I’m just… frustrated.”

And confused. Donovan Pate was a hard man to read.

“I’m sorry. I should be—”

“Ace.” Evan interrupted as he poured a cup of coffee.

Charlie rolled her eyes. Evan had been trying to get her to kick the habit of saying “sorry” for everything since he moved here. It was cute, almost as cute as him calling her “Ace.” And he was right—she had nothing to be sorry about.

“Did you know your buddy Donovan was a jerk?” Charlie asked him.

A crooked smile played the corner of his mouth as he lifted the mug to his lips. “Yeah.”

His eyes flickered to Sofie. “Bet you knew that already.”

Oh Lord. What did that mean?

Evan winked at Charlie and retreated to his art studio on the other side of the house.

Did everyone know Sofie and Donny had done the deed?

After he’d gone, she turned to her friend, whose hazel eyes went wide.

“I only told him what I know.”

“Charlie!”

She winced. “Sorry! I tell him all sorts of things. I didn’t know he really listened to me.”

Evan knew Sofie had lost her virginity to one of his buddies. Fabulous.

“How am I supposed to keep showing up there to work?” Sofie buried her face in her hands. “Maybe I’ll make Faith do it.”

But that made no sense. Sofie had held charity dinners in the mansion for the past three years. She was familiar with the routine of setting up there, of tearing down. Parking. The way the catering was handled. She knew the boxes being donated to the thrift shop shouldn’t have been on that truck—Faith never would have known any different.

“Ugh. What am I supposed to do?”

Charlie tugged at Sofie’s wrists until she relinquished and revealed her face. “You’re going to continue to show up and do whatever it is you do. Who cares if he doesn’t talk to you?”

But that was the whole problem. She did care.

Taking a deep breath, Sofie announced, “I slapped him.”

“When?” Charlie’s big eyes grew bigger. “Why?”

“Seven years ago. The night of the… incident,” she whispered needlessly. Evan was far out of earshot and Lyon was in school. “After”—she motioned with one hand rather than spell it out—“ after, he yelled at me, told me to get out of his car. I was hurt.”

Sofie covered one cheek with her hand. She could almost feel the cool air from the Jeep’s vent blowing on her face. Hurt was putting it lightly. She’d been devastated.

“I hauled off and smacked him.” She shook her head. “Right in the face.”

Charlie crossed her arms in front of her on the bar. “Good.”

But it wasn’t good. Sofie’s actions may have been justified, but there was no good that came from striking another person.

“Yesterday, he was… I don’t know, trying to make me upset or something.”

Donny hadn’t been warm and welcoming, but he also hadn’t exactly been mean. His goading seemed more defensive than anything.

“He stood really close to me and I raised my hand while I was talking—like I do.” Sofie waved her hand briefly to demonstrate.

Charlie leaned in the slightest bit. “And?”