Rescuing the Bad Boy (Second Chance #2)(34)

“Not going to be able to stay away from you now, Scampi,” he said, his voice low. Her heart kicked up a notch. “You have horrible taste in men.” His full lips twitched at the corner as another smile curved his mouth.

Gosh, she loved that smile. Would like to see it more often.

“You’re hilarious.” She shook her head at him but smiled back. When she lifted her wineglass, he turned serious.

“It’s good what you’re doing for those kids.”

Her heart levitated. It was good. “You’re helping them, too.”

“Reluctantly.”

“Now who’s the liar?” They watched one another for a beat. When she couldn’t take the intensity of his unwavering stare, she averted her eyes and changed the subject, filling the air with a topic they had in common.

“Ruby said if the children were there, helping serve the dinner, helping cook the dinner, helping ready the ballroom, they would feel more included. Like they belonged. She said a lot of those kids are locked in their own heads.”

His eyes went to his beer. He stayed silent.

“Pate Mansion is the perfect setup. For the dinner. For the campout. And the kitchen… I mean seriously, it is a huge kitchen,” she continued blathering. She paused to study his expression but got nothing. “They probably resent the idea of that much structure now that I think about it.”

“They appreciate it. Kids who don’t have any structure secretly want it.” His light eyes locked on hers, and for a moment she saw him—really saw him. No veil. She’d seen him like this once before—in a dark library the moment before the moment things had turned so very bad. She’d seen him so clearly then.

As clearly as she saw him now. He wasn’t only talking about the kids at Open Arms. He was talking about himself. His younger self.

In a blink, the lightness vanished as fast as it’d appeared. His eyes went back to his beer. He took another sip and said nothing.

“Anyway, thanks for letting them do the campout.”

“It’s only one night.” His comment brought with it a truckload of innuendo.

“Two. Technically,” she said softly, wondering if his mind was on the same subject.

His gaze was like a caress, like a hand physically touching her skin. It’d always been like this between them. Always. Even when she tried to resist him.

Even when she tried to forget him.





Glasses empty, Donovan motioned for the bartender, who nodded and pushed a couple of buttons on the touch-screen computer. A receipt spit out of the printer.

Sofie reached for her purse.

“Don’t even think about it,” Donovan warned.

“I’m a modern woman, I can go dutch.”

He slid her a look. “You really have been dating *s, haven’t you?”

She rolled her eyes.

Shit. He hated being right about that.

On the way out of the bar, he put his hand on her back and steered her toward the door. Her shoes were tall, and the floors appeared recently waxed. At least that’s why he told himself he’d reached for her. Not because he couldn’t be close to her and not touch her.

Not because she drew him in like he was tethered to her.

Outside, she climbed into Trixie without his assistance.

“The same Jeep,” she mumbled. “Thought it was black.”

“It’s going to be red.” His eyes skimmed the pants hugging her thighs before he shut her door. As he walked around to the driver’s side, he thought of Scott’s wandering hands and lamented not getting to break any of the bastard’s fingers.

The drive to Sofie’s apartment was quiet, consisting of him fiddling with the radio and her inspecting her fingernails.

“Here.” She pointed at the apartment building to their left. Fairly small, the six-unit building stood next to two other identical freestanding buildings. White with black shutters, the staircase open. No security door standing in the way of anyone who wanted to come in. Not that the Cove was unsafe, but wherever there were vacationers, there were strangers.

“Thanks.” She undid her seat belt.

“Don’t see him again.”

Her head whipped around. “Excuse me?”

Elbow leaning on the steering wheel, Donovan twisted in his seat so he could keep his eyes on hers. “I mean it, Scampi. That guy’s testing your boundaries too soon.”

“I never asked for you to watch out for me. I’m a grown woman. I can take care of myself.”

“I know exactly how much of a woman you are.”

Her dark emerald eyes went wide before narrowing at him. “You should. You made me one.”

Damn. Had him there.

“I’ll see whoever I want to see,” she replied with fiery determination.

But her words sounded like a dare. The air snapped with the memory of the one night they’d spent together. Her soft scent wrapped around him in the cramped confines of Trixie.

That was a dare he’d take.

“Who do you see now?”

Her pink lips parted. The anger was replaced with an emotion just as hot, but not nearly as resistant.

She breathed one word. “You.”

“Damn straight.”

Reaching across the seat, he threaded his fingers into her soft brown hair and cupped her nape. He gave her a beat to react, but she didn’t pull back. Instead, she licked her bottom lip, her gaze glancing off his mouth.