Rescuing the Bad Boy (Second Chance #2)(91)

Faith climbed behind the wheel of her Mercedes and pulled away. Connor came outside next, revved the engine of his gold Mustang, and without a word to Sofie, rumbled down the driveway behind Faith.

Blowing out a breath, Sofie tipped up her chin. The white full moon, the starry sky, the pine trees and maples dotting the yard… she couldn’t remember a more perfect night, unless she counted last night. Last night had been pretty perfect, too.

Abruptly, she missed Gertie’s presence. The mutt had gone home with Faith yesterday evening. Faith’s sister Skylar offered to watch her for a few days. As fun as the mutt was at the campout, a charity dinner was no place for a dog. Sofie prayed Skylar could help find a family who deserved a great pet. If she didn’t, Sofie would have to make sure she did. She may not be allowed to have a dog at her apartment, but she refused to send Gertie to a shelter.

“There you are.” The low rumble of Donovan’s voice wound around her aching heart.

Sofie’s eyes sank shut. Much like he’d given up Dog, he was going to give her up in the same way.

And you are going to give him up.

They were both walking away.

Strong arms wrapped around her waist and his fingers linked around her middle. She rested her hand over his. He didn’t ask her to stay tonight. But then he’d stopped asking a long time ago.

He settled his cheek against hers.

“Come inside, Scampi. Have a surprise for you.”

Before she could stop herself, hope leaped in her chest. Had he changed his mind about selling? Was he staying? Or maybe, he wasn’t staying but didn’t want to end what they had between them. Her fingers continued to brush his knuckles, but she stayed silent, afraid to give a voice to any of the thoughts in her head.

He kissed her temple and pointed her toward the house, dropping his hand to her butt where he cupped one cheek as they walked inside. As he pushed open the front door and ushered her over the threshold, she tried to lighten the mood.

“My backside was lonely before you came back to town.”

She expected him to laugh, but when the front door closed behind her, she turned to find his expression serious. He took her in from head to toe, slowly, purposefully. Then he snagged her hand, spun her around, and pressed her body up against the door with his.

The night seven years ago replayed in her mind.

The foyer, barely lit by soft yellow sconces. The light fading into the dark floors, thick drapes, highlighting the raw intension on Donny’s face. As if history was repeating, Donny breathed into her ear and bit her earlobe.

She arched her back and rubbed herself against him, feeling his hard length press into her belly.

“Scampi.” He tugged her bottom lip with his teeth.

“Donny,” she whispered, feeling the significance of this moment. The weight of this moment.

He smiled down at her.

She managed a small smile in return. “If this is my surprise, I approve.”

“Giving you a do-over, sweetheart.”

His hands curved around her ass. He kissed her again.

“A do-over?” she asked when she lost his lips.

“Library.” He tipped his head to the room on her right.

Where it had all started. Technically, it started in the parking lot of the Wharf, but they both knew the most significant act had occurred here, at the mansion. Kind of perfect it should end here, too. The charity dinner was over, Gertrude was gone, and Donovan was leaving. But, evidently, not before making good on the vow to give her a do-over on that first night they shared together.

Perfect. Achingly perfect.

She twined her fingers into his black hair. “Couch or rug?”

“Good memory.” He kissed her softly and repeated his words from that fateful night. “Couch or rug?” He lifted her like he did seven years ago, his hands cupping her backside. Her legs answered by wrapping around his waist.

She continued raveling his hair around her fingertips and staring down into his pale silver blue eyes, wondering if he remembered what came next.

He did.

“Where do you want to make love?” His throat bobbed as he swallowed thickly.

“You didn’t mean it then,” she couldn’t resist pointing out.

“No.”

“Now?”

“Yeah, Scampi,” he answered. “I mean it now.”

She brushed the hair off his forehead as he walked her to the doorway.

“You don’t get hard and fast tonight,” he told her. “You get slow and sweet. You get what you deserved the first time around. You get me taking my time, making sure you get what you deserve. Tonight”—he kissed her—“you get everything you want.”

Not everything, her breaking heart reminded her.

This was Donovan’s good-bye. He wasn’t going to stay. He was giving back the thing he’d taken from her, only this time, gift-wrapped.

A good-bye present.

She was going to accept. Because she couldn’t physically walk away from him while his eyes held hers and his mouth said all the right words. On a very selfish level, she refused to walk away from an evening bathed in the promise of slow and smooth.

Before Donovan left her again, she wanted every bit of him she could get. Every ounce he was willing to leave behind. Because she would treasure it. When the nights got long and lonely, these were the memories she would unpack and curl herself around.