Rescuing the Bad Boy (Second Chance #2)(29)

Through his clenched jaw, Sofie could swear she heard his teeth grind.

Please, please. Say something nice.

“Thank you,” he said after an extended silence. “It’s a worthy institution you run. I’m honored to be a part of it.”

Phew.

Ruby’s smile was genuine and heartfelt as she let go of his hand. “I’m glad to hear you say that.”

So am I. Sofie flicked her eyes up at him. He didn’t so much as glance her way, but she knew he watched her in his periphery.

They toured the kitchen, Donovan taking the lead. He suggested where to set up the kids the night of the dinner. Being a restaurant guy, he understood where the prep area would work best, as well as where the expediters could tray the food before taking it to the ballroom.

“The kids won’t carry the heavier dinner trays, I’m guessing.” He looked to Sofie for that information.

Rapt by his take-charge confidence, she nearly missed her cue. “Hmm? Oh yes. The catering company is providing servers. They’ll do the heavy lifting.”

“Maybe you could order some smaller trays so the children could take dessert out?” Ruby asked. “I want them fully involved.”

“I will do that today,” Faith said. “Would you like to see the ballroom next?”

“That would be great.”

Faith led Ruby out of the room, leaving Sofie and Donovan alone in the kitchen. “Thank you,” she told him.

He didn’t acknowledge her gratitude, instead offering, “Something to drink?”

She moved her tongue around her dry mouth. “Please.”

Being alone with him had a way of making her parched.

He opened and closed the refrigerator. She accepted the bottle of water, noticing a weird, yet oddly familiar, smell coming from the closed door to her left. Faint scratching sounded from behind the panel.

“Is that…”

“A dog.” He leaned past her and turned the knob, opening the door a fraction.

Sofie peered through the crack. Striking pale blue eyes peered back. “A wet dog.” That’s what the smell was. Wet dog plus shampoo. “I didn’t know you had a dog.”

“I don’t.”

Okay…

“Is it friendly?”

“Seems to be.” He opened the door wider and Sofie squatted. The dog reminded her of the Saint Bernard her aunt used to have, but this one was mixed with something else. Shepherd, maybe?

“Boy or girl?”

“Girl.”

“Hi… uh, what’s her name?”

“No name,” he answered tersely. “Found her out back.”

“Hi, girl.” The dog wagged her tail, though it was positioned low. She took a step in her direction and Sofie held out a hand. She noticed the pooch favored one foot. It was bandaged. “She’s hurt.”

“Yeah. Cut herself on something.”

“Poor girl,” she cooed. She offered a hand but didn’t pet her yet. “I can’t believe she hasn’t chewed the bandage off.”

“She chewed through three of them.”

Donovan stood, hip leaning on the edge of the countertop, arms crossed. She tried to picture him bathing a dog and changing its bandage three times. Tried to picture him being attentive… caring.

She tilted her head and took him in. He stood there looking solid. Strong. Safe.

An illusion.

Donovan Pate was anything but safe.

The dog’s wet nose touched her hand and Sofie smiled and reached to pat the dog’s head. The mutt’s eyes fluttered shut, her ears flattening as if expecting a blow.

Sofie pulled her hand away.

“She’s been abused,” Donovan pointed out.

Her heart squeezed. It was like a macabre theme.

“You can tell by the way she flinches,” he muttered.

Sofie tried again, extending her hand slowly. The dog backed just out of reach and watched her through pale eyes from a safer distance. Eyes the same color as Donovan’s.

She’s been abused. You can tell by the way she flinches.

Sofie’s hand gestures the other day had made the man in this room react in a similar way. She stood, clasping the water bottle with both hands.

Donovan shut the utility room door with a soft click. “Don’t take it personally.”

She met his gaze, wondering if he and the stray had more in common than unique eye color.

As if he sensed her thoughts, he pressed his lips together and, just like he had the other day, walked away.





CHAPTER EIGHT




Donovan chipped away at the fireplace in front of him, listening to Dog snore on the sofa where she’d made herself at home. He hauled her off there twice before giving up and letting her have her way. She’d only be here temporarily, so he justified the potential bad habit wouldn’t hurt anything.

After Sofie had joined Ruby and Faith in the ballroom, Donovan had wandered into the great room to keep his hands and head occupied with something other than the forlorn look Sofie gave him earlier.

He didn’t want her sympathy. Didn’t want her to feel bad for him—to feel bad, period. So, he’d stayed out of sight, avoiding her, though he did overhear the ladies navigating the halls to the front door on their way out. He didn’t meet them to say good-bye, but he’d clearly made out their echoed laughter through the vents. Specifically, Faith’s voice mentioning Sofie’s “hot date” tonight.