Rescuing the Bad Boy (Second Chance #2)(42)

“I don’t remember mentioning it,” he admitted. “Usually not much for chatter.”

“Didn’t say anything to Charlie.” Evan stood and dusted his hands on his jeans. In other words: Sofie didn’t know. “It’s your story, man.”

Donovan nodded, grateful. He didn’t exactly broadcast the fact Robert Pate used to beat the hell out of him for fun. That Evan hadn’t told Charlie was why he was still a friend. That right there. It was hard to find people to trust in this world. When he did, he kept them close.

“Sofie,” Evan said, contemplative.

Donovan crossed his arms over his chest. Now what?

His friend tilted his head. “She and Ace are close.”

“I noticed.”

Evan took a step closer to him. “Sofie gets tweaked about something you say or do, she’s gonna be upset, and that’s gonna make Charlie upset.”

Ahh. Evan had assumed the role of big brother to Sofie.

“This the part where you tell me if I hurt Scampi, you beat my ass?”

Evan shook his head as if frustrated, his eyebrows sinking into a pair of angry arches. “I thought you posed a threat, dumbass, I never would’ve let you near her.”

His turn to frown. “You’re seven years too late.”

“I know you’ve been through some shit. But I also know you, Donny. You’re loyal. You believe you don’t deserve any better than you have. Which also means I know you would chew off your own arm before you’d hurt Sofie. You’re safe with her. She’s safe with you.”

Safe with him.

Donovan worked his jaw while he thought.

“What you’re doing for those kids—”

“Sofie’s doing it.” He was quick to correct. He wasn’t some sort of benevolent do-gooder. The charity dinner, camping… The only reason Open Arms was infiltrating Pate Mansion was because he’d agreed to get out of the way so Scampi could let them pass. It was the right thing to do, especially in a house that’d been so filled with wrong.

“Trust me, Ev”—he crouched to dig through a nearby pile—“my interests are self-serving.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Evan grunted, not buying his bullshit. Another reason Donovan kept him around. “You have to hand-pick every one of these goddamn pieces yourself, or you want me to help?”

“You can try.”

“You’re lucky we’re friends.” Evan squatted next to him and began sorting through another pile.

Bitch of it was, he was right.

Donovan was lucky to have him.





Faith emptied the final wine bottle into the highball glass in Sofie’s hand.

“I told you, I don’t want any more.” Sofie had stopped drinking after the first half a glass Faith poured for her. She was too nervous about what might happen to the wall—worried she’d end up with trim lines as curvy as her hips by the time she finished.

Each time Faith refilled her glass, she’d dumped the wine back into Faith’s or Charlie’s glasses instead. Meaning she was stone sober, while her giggly friends were not in the same vicinity as sober.

“Come on,” Faith urged.

“Yeah,” Charlie agreed. “Have some fun.”

Sofie looked at the drying paint, head swimming from the fumes even though they’d opened the windows. Well, she was almost done anyway. “Okay, I give.”

They’d finished the coat on all three walls. And to be honest, there wasn’t that much more to do. The one wall where she removed the sconces might need touching up after it dried, the fixtures rehung. But all in all, a successful paint job nearly completed. She lifted her glass and clinked it with her friends’ glasses. Faith had found a wineglass somewhere, but Charlie was drinking from a glass coffee cup with a cartoon of Garfield painted on one side.

Faith finished off her wine, licked her lips, and sucked in a breath. Then she exhaled, looking pained.

Sofie lowered her glass. “What is it?”

“Would it be completely awful for me to ask about Connor’s… status?”

Charlie shook her head. “Heck no, I’d hit that.”

Sofie had lifted her wine to take a drink and now sputtered into her glass. She wiped her lips and laughed. Charlie wasn’t usually one to trash-talk. “I love when you drink. Evan is wearing off on you.”

“He is,” she said, her voice taking on a dreamlike quality.

Sofie turned to her other friend. “And my answer is no, it’s not awful. I have no idea if he’s seeing someone,” she said, thinking. “But he’s never mentioned a girlfriend and he’s here a lot. Connor is a really nice guy.”

“It’s true.” Charlie gestured with her glass. “And I was kidding earlier. He’s been my landscaper since he got out of the service. I’ve never once considered hitting that.” She studied the ceiling for a second. “I mean, not for real.”

Faith laughed, a loud ha! “Yeah, because you have a very fine hunk of man at home waiting for you each and every night.”

A silly smile covered Charlie’s face.

“And a boy who calls you Mom.” Sofie witnessed the first time it happened. She’d watched her friend nearly disintegrate beneath the weight of that title. Lyon’s mom, Rae, was Charlie’s very best friend before Rae passed away. When Charlie fell in love with Evan, it took her a while to accept she hadn’t “stolen” Rae’s family.