Page 15 of Bad Boy Crush

It had been a great thing to witness when Ant’s closed-off and distant friend had chosen to stay in the Cove and make a permanent place for himself. Surprised the shit out of Ant. Donny had been nothing if not a loner. He’d also been broody and hard to be around for a handful of years. Not that he stayed around. He’d run off to live in the Hamptons with his friend and mentor, and in the process had learned a skill he’d grown into a business. Donovan was a mason, specializing in unique, custom-order firepits and fireplaces.

“How’s work?” Ant asked.

“Busy. I have a new contract from the historical society.”

“High falutin’,” Ant said, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah.” Donny chuckled. It was ironic that he’d ended up working for the city he’d once fled. “I’ll be renovating and rebuilding stone walls and fireplaces over the next handful of years. It’ll keep me busy.”

“That, and two kids.”

“And Sofie is talking about having one more.” Donny shook his head like he disagreed, but his grin gave him away. The man least likely to have chosen fatherhood had taken to it naturally.

Donny put his teeth on his bottom lip and whistled. In the distance, a furry head poked out of the woods, and then his dog, Gertie—another thing Ant had been shocked to find out Donny had acquired—came bounding toward them. The Saint Bernard mix was big and fluffy, with silver-blue eyes that matched her owner’s. Ant scrubbed Gert’s head with both hands and bent to tell her how beautiful she looked today. Tail wagging as if she’d understood every word, the dog offered a white-toothed smile.

“You and Lourdes Daniels seem cozy,” Donny pointed out after they took a seat on top of a picnic table beneath a shade tree.

“Do we?” Donny knew more than he probably should since Ant had talked about the situation between him and Lou. His friend had obviously become suspicious.

“What are you doing here with her?”

Or not. Maybe he was curious as to why Ant had come at all.

“A tree fell during that big storm night before last. It was blocking her driveway.” Ant tipped his beer for a swig. “I offered her a ride.”

“I bet you did.” Donny smiled against the opening of his own beer bottle.

“A truck ride,” Ant mumbled.

“You don’t have to hide your intentions from me, Renaldo. You’re talking to a guy who sooner would have eaten a bucket of mortar than admit I held out for Sofia Martin for seven years.”

That was true. His pal’s seven years of self-punishing celibacy seemed like a walk in the park when compared to Ant’s one year, eight months. Ant wasn’t going to wait seven years, for Christ’s sake, but going on two was starting to feel like seven. He hadn’t consciously stopped dating when Lou became single, but he hadn’t missed the way the timelines had lined up.

“We’re friends again, which feels good after not being friends.”

“Not your fault,” Donny was quick to say.

Ant shook his head. “I should have told her.”

“But you didn’t.” Donny leveled him with his cool, silvery gaze. “Straight through is the only way out, man. You don’t have a time machine.”

Ant offered up another truth. “She’s too good for the likes of me, anyway. She’s classy. Used to the good life.”

His friend craned his head to take in his thirty-five-room mansion. “I hear that. Sofie and I stumbled into this life. I didn’t expect to live here, to be happy in Evergreen Cove. Especially back when my dad was kicking my teeth in, you know?”

“Yeah, I know.” Ant’s eyes went to his friend’s many tattoos. They’d been chosen not by style, but size. Each one covered a scar. Donny had taken beating after beating from his dad back in the day. Ant was grateful he couldn’t relate.

“That must be Hunter.” Donny hopped off the picnic table and started toward the driveway, where a red truck on massive tires with pipes coming out of the top pulled to a stop.

“You fuckin’ kidding me?” Ant already didn’t like the guy based on his taste—or lack thereof, rather. “He’d better be polite, or I’ll kick his teeth in.”

Donny laughed at the reference, proving his wounds had healed on the inside as well as out. Ant followed his friend to the driveway, where the new guy climbed down a step on his vehicle.

“Hunter?” Donny asked.

“Yeah, hi.” The other man stepped forward and offered a hand, which Donny shook as he introduced Ant. Hunter was young, maybe midtwenties. He was also shorter than Donny—by quite a bit since Donny was six-four—and shorter than Ant by a few inches as well. Hunter had brown hair, a square head, and was stout and muscular. He shook Ant’s hand as well, and Ant was perturbed not to have a better reason to dislike him other than that stupid truck.

“You have a great place here, Donovan,” Hunter said as they walked through the side yard in the direction of the back. He whistled when he was standing in the middle of a massive grassy area with a thickly wooded backdrop. “This is where we’re competing?”

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