Home > Love Me If You Dare (Bachelor Blogs #2)(11)

Love Me If You Dare (Bachelor Blogs #2)(11)
Author: Carly Phillips

Sara nodded. “First I need to get my bag from the car.”

A few minutes later, bag in hand, she followed Angel upstairs to a floral-wallpapered bedroom. Fresh flowers filled a small vase on the dresser, and an antique lamp sat on the nightstand.

“This is beautiful,” Sara said, running her hand over the lemon-colored comforter on a four-poster bed.

“Relax and enjoy.”

“I intend to! I desperately need a nap,” Sara said. “And can I bother you for an ice pack or a bag of ice?” She pointed to her knee, over which she now wore a lighter brace than the original one given to her in the emergency room.

“Of course!” The other woman turned to go.

“Angel?”

“Yes?” She braced her hand on the door frame and turned back around.

Sara swallowed hard. “Can you possibly tell me where to find Rafe? I tried to reach him to let him know I was coming, but I couldn’t get through to his cell. I’d like to stop by after dinner.”

Angel smiled. “Of course. I’ll write down the address where you can find him, along with directions.”

“Great. I’d appreciate it.”

“So, dinner is at six. I hope you like fried chicken and mashed potatoes.”

Sara’s mouth watered at the thought. “Perfect.”

“Okay, then. I’ll be right back with the ice.” She stepped out, leaving Sara alone.

She collapsed onto the comfortable bed. A light lemony scent permeated the room, and she relaxed, allowing her body to absorb the softness surrounding her, feeling calmer and safer than she had in New York City.

RAFE’S PARENTS STILL lived in the house he’d grown up in. Except for some updates and renovations, everything remained the same. Until the family descended. Then the noise level and chaos exceeded anything he remembered or could tolerate. Rafe was thirty-one and ready to settle down, while his sisters were married and lived within half a mile of their parents and each other, as did Nick. With the exception of Nick, they all had children. To most people, the sheer numbers would be confusing. To Rafe, it was normal.

His oldest sister, Joanne, had six years on him and always acted like his mother. She had a thirteen-year-old daughter and two rambunctious ten-year-old twin sons who currently wrestled in the den. Nick came next, then Rafe. Carol was three years younger than Rafe and had gotten an early start on her family. She had three adorable kids that Rafe called the Steps due to their ever-increasing height, girls ages two, four and six. Andrea was the most spoiled and self-centered, but she was learning how to give, thanks to her new baby boy.

And they all loved their fun-loving single uncle Rafe. He managed to maintain that status by living in the city, visiting when he could and not allowing himself to be overwhelmed by family all the time.

When the noise level in the living room reached epidemic proportions, Rafe escaped onto the front-porch swing for some peace. The summer air was hot and humid, but at least the noise dimmed. He had only a few quiet minutes when his thirteen-year-old niece, Toni, joined him.

An adorable kid with light brown hair, her mother’s serious eyes and a mini-adult personality, she immediately started talking.

“Hey, Uncle Rafe.” She began kicking her feet back and forth beneath her.

“Hey, kid. Noise too much for you in there, too?” He pointed inside toward his parents’ living room.

She nodded. “But I also wanted to talk to you alone.”

“Shoot,” he told her, gesturing with his hands.

“Okay.” She drew a deep breath. “You’re a guy, right?”

“Last time I looked,” he joked.

She didn’t laugh.

Rafe glanced at her. Her hair hung straight over her shoulders, and an intense expression, much like his sister Joanne’s, had settled on her face.

Okay, this was important.

“What’s up?” he asked her.

“What do I have to do to get a boy to notice me?” She didn’t meet his gaze, merely focused on her swaying feet.

Rafe was in over his head here. He didn’t have kids. Didn’t know how to give relationship advice to a teenage girl. But she obviously wanted a guy’s perspective and couldn’t talk to her father about boys unless she wanted him to lock her up until she was eighteen.

That left Rafe, her single uncle, to do the job. “Want to know what I think?”

She nodded, and this time she watched him carefully.

The pressure of getting it right settled on his shoulders. “I think any guy who doesn’t already notice you has rocks in his head and isn’t worth your time.”

She blushed. “You have to say that. You’re my uncle.”

“True. But I’m saying it because it’s a fact. You’re special.” He resisted the urge to reach out and ruffle her hair like she was a little kid. “So, maybe this boy has noticed you but he’s too shy to talk to you?”

She shrugged. “Maybe. He’s new around here, and he goes to the same camp as me. The girls play the guys in softball, and he’s really good!”

The obvious solution dawned on him. “Ask him to help you hit.”

“But I don’t need help.” She rolled her eyes like he was a dunce. “I’m already the best hitter on the team!”

Rafe bit the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning. “Ask him for help anyway. Guys like to feel needed. Maybe then you can get to know each other.”

She paused for a minute, seriously thinking about his suggestion. “Okay, good idea!” she exclaimed at last. “Hey, who’s that coming up the walk?” She pointed toward the street.

He exhaled in relief. Subject obviously closed. A new attraction had captured her attention.

And what an attraction it was. Sara slowly made her way up the cobblestone path leading to the porch. He’d been so distracted by his talk with Toni, he hadn’t heard the car pull up. But he noticed it parked on the street now.

He couldn’t have been more surprised to see her. If Toni hadn’t noticed her first, Rafe would have thought he was dreaming. He was relieved to see the crutches were gone and her limp was obvious but not terrible. She was a vision. She wore white jeans and a ruffled tank top. Her long hair flowed loose, softly around her shoulders. Once again, he was struck by the stark contrast between the uniformed partner he’d known at work and the woman she was outside the job—and his body’s immediate reaction to her.

She waved at him with a hesitant smile, obviously unsure of her reception, which was ridiculous. He might be shocked, but he wasn’t disappointed. In fact, adrenaline pumped through him, filling him with anticipation and sheer delight.

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