"Funny, sexy, and sure to charm!"
Reviewed by Miranda Owen
Posted May 31, 2015
Romance Contemporary
BRINGING HOME THE BAD BOY is Book one in Jessica
Lemmon's Second Chance series. I loved this book!
Tattoo
artist and illustrator Evan Downey may be everything sexy
and naughty, but after reading BRINGING HOME THE BAD BOY,
I
really don't consider him to be a "bad boy". As the story
progresses, it's more than a little evident that Evan is a
good father and more together, emotionally, than object of
his affection and longtime friend Charlotte.
After grieving for his late wife and trying to sort his
life out for the past four years, Evan returns to
Evergreen
Cove -- a place he was happy earlier in his life -- to
start
over and raise his young son. I love the dynamic between
Evan and Charlotte. As his late wife's best friend,
and "Aunt Charlie" to his seven year old son Lyon, there
is
a connection and history that they share. It's that
history
that also acts as a roadblock to their romance in
Charlie's
mind. Her misplaced guilt over being attracted to her late
friend's husband is something she struggles with. BRINGING
HOME THE BAD BOY is exactly the kind of character-driven
story I love. Both Evan and Charlie are multifaceted and
interesting characters.
The sparks immediately fly between Evan and Charlie and I
love that he pursues her with such a single-minded
determination, without seeming sleazy. I like the
juxtaposition of having the "bad boy" in the story being
the more emotionally secure person in the romance. That
being said, I like both main characters immensely. Charlie
is a sweet and intelligent person who just hasn't worked
out all her feelings of abandonment. I like how Evan is
patient with her and tries to help her get to the place
she
needs to be rather than lose his temper. The evolution of
their relationship is beautiful and equal parts sexy and
sweet. The scenes with Evan, Lyon, and Charlie are
endearing rather than being too saccharine.
BRINGING HOME THE BAD BOY is one of the most satisfying
books I've read in a long time. This story has a little
humor, longing, sweetness, and love scenes that sizzle.
Evan Downey is a bad boy you'll fall for -- caring father,
giving lover, and exciting hottie all rolled into one.
Jessica Lemmon is an author to watch and I can't wait for
the next book! I hope Evan's friend Asher gets a story of
his own in the future.
SUMMARY
The Bad Boy Is Back Evan Downey needs a new beginning. Since the death of his
wife five years ago, the brilliant tattoo artist has shut
himself away in a prison of grief that not even his work
can
break him out of-and what's worse, Evan knows his son
Lyon
is bearing the brunt of his seclusion. Moving back to the
lake town of Evergreen Cove where he spent his childhood
summers is his last chance for a fresh start. Charlotte Harris knows she owes it to her best friend's
memory to help Evan and his son find their way again, but
she can't stop her traitorous heart from skipping a beat
every time she looks into Evan's mesmerizing eyes.
Charlotte
is determined to stay strictly in the Friend Zone-until a
mind-blowing night knocks that plan by the wayside. Now,
if
they're brave enough to let it, Charlotte and Evan might
just find a love capable of healing their broken hearts .
. .
ExcerptChapter 1He’d heard the stress of moving was like dealing with
death, but since Evan Downey had dealt with a lot of
death, it was with a fair amount of authority he called
bullshit. There wasn’t anything particularly fun about packing,
selling, and leaving behind the house. He and his wife,
Rae, had purchased it together when they first got
married—it was the only home their son had ever known. The house had been a place of love and promise, but now
painful memories poisoned the good ones. He’d would miss
the doorframe where he and Rae had scribbled Lyon’s
height onto each and every year. Their walk-in closet
where Evan had laid Rae down and made love to her the day
they’d moved in. What he wouldn’t miss was the hallway where she’d
staggered, hand on her chest, and collapsed, never
regaining consciousness despite his and the 911
operator’s attempts to keep her heart pumping until the
paramedics arrived. Moving didn’t compare to the living nightmare of losing
someone he’d expected to be around when he was old and
gray. At the very least until their son entered elementary
school. As he watched the house dwindle in the side mirror of the
family SUV, he calculated he should be rounding the
acceptance stage of grief right about now. About damn time. “Bye house,” his son Lyon, aged seven going on seventeen
announced from beside him. Gone was the Superman action
figure he’d clung to last summer. Now his sidekick was
his iPad. He had one earbud stuck in his ear and one
dangled onto his chest, as per their agreement that Lyon
not completely shut him out. Though the music wasn’t up
loud enough for him to hear—another of their agreements—
Evan knew it was tuned into classic rock. Definitely his kid, he thought with a smile. 1417 East Level Road behind them, he turned his attention
to the city that lie ahead; the city he’d called home
since he’d married one beautiful, sassy woman named Rae,
the curvy black girl who’d busted his balls about nearly
everything since they were teenagers. God, he missed her. She’d built a life alongside him, settling into her
nursing career while he’d set up his tattoo shop. Before striking out on his own, he’d been under the
tutelage of tattoo master, Chris Platt; a hippie to rival
all hippies, with a heart of gold and a head full of
titanium. By the time Evan had packed up his things and
gave notice, Chris let him know under no uncertain terms
he’d believed in him and his abilities. And that he’d
succeed. He had. “Bye, Woody,” Lyon piped up. Evan turned his head as they drove by his shop where
Woody had worked for years, and as of three months ago,
had purchased outright. Woody had stepped in the year Rae
died, when Evan’s concentration revolved around breathing
in and out, and keeping a three-year-old boy alive. It
was no small feat and, at the time, had taken everything
he’d had. “Will you miss it, Dad?” He threw a glance into the rearview, but there was no
need. He knew the shop’s façade as well as his own face.
The crack on the sidewalk out front that sprouted
dandelions every spring, the brick crumbing on the
southeast corner. The black marquee done up to look like
an old-fashioned apothecary that read Lion’s Den. Rae’s
idea, and in honor of their one and only offspring. Save
for the fact that their lion was a Lyon, which she’d
insisted suited Evan’s rebellious, go-against-the-grain
demeanor. She was right. An image of her shining brown eyes, huge smile, and that
horribly ugly sea foam green bathrobe she insisted
wearing on her days off, popped into his brain, and he
felt his smile turn sickly. “Dad.” “Yeah, buddy,” he finally answered, his throat dry as he
watched Lion’s Den grow tiny in the rearview. “I’m gonna
miss it.” What he wouldn’t miss were the memories of his late wife
assaulting him everywhere he turned in this city. “What about Leah?” his son asked as they pulled onto the
highway. Evan ground his back teeth together. Leah had been one of his, for lack of a better term,
“friends with benefits” for the majority of the year. And
though he’d arranged to keep his dates secret from his
son, she’d “stopped by” unannounced last month when she
saw the SOLD sign go up in the yard. Angry tears had shimmered in her eyes while her hands
gripped her purse like she might brain him with it. He
hadn’t understood why. A long time ago, they’d discussed
that what they had was about the physical and nothing
more. She’d insisted on arguing with him, in front of
Lyon no less, and Evan had to do the unfortunate business
of dumping her—when they were never really dating—on his
front lawn. It’d been a dick move, but then, so was
sleeping with a woman on a tit-for-tat basis. No puns intended. Speaking of tat, his eyes zeroed in on the sparrow on his
right forearm, the string of hearts snapped free, the
broken heart drifting. That one was for Rae. The roses on
his arm were for his mom and his aunt. A lotta death. Too
much, too soon. They said bad things happened in threes.
For his and his son’s sakes, he hoped the adage continued
staying true. “Daaaad.” Irritation lined his kid’s voice when he didn’t
respond right away. “Sorry, buddy, I was thinking. No, I won’t miss Leah,” he
answered honestly. Another dick thing to admit, but she hadn’t meant all
that much to him. Them in bed, cordial would be the best
way to describe how he’d treated her. As awful and
uninspiring as it sounded. That’s what they’d both
settled for, which was equally awful and uninspiring. He bit back the grimace attempting to push forward on his
features. Rae wouldn’t like who he’d become if she could
see him now. But she couldn’t see him now. She hadn’t been able to see
him since the moment she’d collapsed five years ago and
he hadn’t known he’d been five minutes away from losing
her forever. He wished he could remember their last conversation, but
he’d been distracted. Not listening. “Me either,” Lyon said, snapping him out of his reverie.
“Leah was mean.” Evan blew a breath out of his nose, as close to a laugh
as he was gonna get, and considered that Lyon was the
only reason he hadn’t spiraled into a whirlpool of
depression. Settling in for the drive north to the lake town they
would now call home instead of Columbus, Evan once again
reminded himself that this venture was a second chance.
For him and his son. A place to create new memories, be
closer to Rae’s parents, and Rae’s best friend on the
planet, Charlotte Harris. “Excited to see Aunt Charlie?” he asked Lyon. Charlie had been “Aunt Charlie” since she’d walked into
the hospital room a little over seven years ago. Rae had
held up the blue blanket Lyon was wrapped in after she’d
sworn her way through eighteen hours of labor, and
Charlie, with tears in her eyes, had taken him into her
arms and said, “Hi, Lionel Downey, I’m your Aunt
Charlie.” She’d been a fixture in Lyon’s life always. Since Rae had passed, she’d become more of a fixture.
Charlie was a dear friend. A constant, a solid person he
and his son could count on. A light in a dark place. Whenever she visited them since, she’d dragged out photo
albums, sometimes bringing new photos of her own to add
to the pages, and sat Lyon down to tell him stories of
his mother. Lyon had been three when Rae died, and Charlie insisted
on never letting him forget her. While he agreed this was
best for his son, Evan did better when he wasn’t
confronted with her smiling face as he walked down the
hallway. Or her still one, a vision that woke him in a
sweat more often than he cared to admit. For that reason, he’d left the photos in the albums, had
tucked the picture frames of the two of them away. But
there was no escaping the spot of carpet in the hallway
where she’d collapsed, or the other side of the bed, its
emptiness as real a presence as Rae had been when she was
alive. Moving to Evergreen Cove wouldn’t only get them away from
the house choked with her memory, but would bring Lyon
closer to the things that meant most to him. Charlie was one of those things. “I can’t wait!” Lyon said, a very real light shining in
his eyes. Kids were so resilient. Especially his kid. Through the
process of packing and moving, Lyon had been both
apprehensive and excited. Evan saw the sadness in his
eyes when he talked about not seeing his friends at
school anymore, but Malcolm and Jesse, the two boys who
were his best buds had parents who visited the Cove in
the summer, so Lyon had been appeased with the promise of
hanging out with them then. Plus, the new house offered the attractive package of
swimming in the lake, a new house with a bigger bedroom,
and Charlie nearby. Evan hoped that might make up for
some of what they’d all lost. Not everything, because God knew he couldn’t replace Rae,
nor would he try. But he’d sure as hell take whatever reprieve he could
get. * * * The pain in the voice at the other end of the phone
sliced through Charlotte Harris like a shard of glass.
Three seconds ago, when she’d seen her best friend’s name
pop up on her phone, she’d answered with a chipper, “hi!” Her greeting was met with a beat of silence, followed by
a deep, male response. One hollow, broken syllable; the
nickname he’d given her a year ago. “Ace.” Her heart dropped to her stomach, her extremities going
instantly cold in spite of the warm nighttime air. There
was something registering in his tone that sent fear
spilling into her bloodstream. “Evan?” A beat of silence, then, “Yeah.” She stood from the chair she’d been lounging in and paced
to the three steps leading from her porch down to the
inky, still surface of the lake stretching into a pyramid
of pine trees in the distance. “What is it?” This from her boyfriend, Russell, who stood
from the porch swing behind her. She held out a finger to tell him to wait a minute. “What happened?” she asked into the phone. Something. She
and Evan were friends, but not call-each-other friends.
If he was calling her now, it had to be because there was
a problem. With Lyon, or— “Rae.” His voice cracked, a painful sob shattering the
airwaves and sending an adrenaline rush through her
bloodstream. He drew in an uneven breath. “Jesus, Ace.” Unable to hold herself up any longer, she sank onto a
step and issued the understatement of the year. “You’re
scaring me.” “She’s gone, Ace.” His voice went hollow, into a dead
tone she never wanted to hear again as long as she lived. “Gone…” False hope she’d recognize later as denial leapt
against her chest, borne of desperation to find a reason
other than the obvious for this almost-midnight call. Maybe Rae went shopping. Maybe she and Evan had a fight
and Rae went to her parents’ house. Maybe— “Gone,” his whisper confirmed. That’s when the tears choking her throat pulsed against
her eyes. That’s when Russell took the phone from her
hand. And that’s when she knew. Rae Lynn Downey, her very best friend, more like a sister
than her actual sister, wife to the long-ago besotted
Evan Downey, and mother to a dimpled three-year-old Lyon
Downey was… gone. It took five days for that fact to settle in. For her to see Rae’s physical body in the casket, for her
to notice Evan’s formerly bright eyes weary and
bloodshot, for her to be a first-hand witness to the
devastation of Rae’s parents and the somber expressions
on Evan’s family’s faces. For her to accept what “gone” meant. Gone was permanent. Gone was forever. Gone was unfair. Standing over her body, Charlie vowed to Rae she’d watch
over her family. She kissed her fingers, placed them on
her best friend’s cold cheek and whispered to the woman
she’d never see alive again, “Sorry, Rae.” Wheels crunched along the gravel outside her house,
bringing Charlie out of the memory clouding her head and
back to her living room. She dropped the open magazine
she’d been staring unseeing at for the last however many
minutes and swiped a single tear from her eye. Then she cleared her throat, closed the magazine, and
bucked up. Because Evan and Lyon couldn’t arrive and find
her mourning over Rae. And there was no reason to darken
this occasion with melancholy. Them moving here was a
good thing. The best thing for them all. Their coming
here had reminded her of all the promises she’d made, all
the pain they’d gone through. All the loss they’d
endured. She peeked out the curtains and confirmed the tires on
the gravel did not belong to Evan’s SUV. Releasing a pent
up breath, she watched the blue pickup climb the hill and
vanish into the trees. Not them. Evan had texted her—she checked her phone, then the clock
—forty-six minutes ago, to say they were ten minutes away
and since then she’d sat anxiously by the front window.
Knowing him, and she did, he probably stopped at the
Dairy Dreem for an ice cream the moment they set foot in
town. She snapped up her iced tea, frowning at the ring on the
coffee table. Where was her head today? She swiped the
water ring with one hand and turned for her back porch,
pausing first to slip on a pair of flats. Charlie’s house was the most modest on her street—she
liked to tell herself it was because the house had been
the built before Evergreen Cove had become a vacation
destination. Small, white clapboard, she and her
boyfriend, Russell Hartman had purchased the place
because of its view of the lake and the fantastic porch.
She’d believed, at the time, buying a vacation home as a
couple was a sign of permanence. But she had no regrets about the house. Since she worked
from home, she’d outfitted the family room facing the
lake at the back to hold her desk, computer, and a few
shelves for her supplies. She’d kept the couch, and yes,
the television in the room. It connected to the kitchen
where she had a small table and chairs, but the real
prize of her home was the porch. The wide, covered
expanse, befitting of a Georgia plantation four times her
home’s size, was where she ate most of her meals,
entertained, or just sat and enjoyed the view. Rather than stare out the window for the arrival of the
Downey boys, she tracked out back to the swing hanging by
a pair of chains, smoothed her dress, and sat. Resting the tea at her feet, she sucked in a breath and
took in the view. While the front of her house offered up
traffic and trees, she preferred the back—the lake and
the hill that rose behind it, a jagged skyline designed
from pointed pine trees. This view was why she and
Russell had purchased on the private beach. When he’d left her two years ago, he’d kept the huge new-
build with the cherry tree in the back yard. She’d
reflected then how Rae had always told her a man who was
unwilling to marry her was a man who would walk away. At
the moment four years ago when he’d delivered her morning
coffee in the enormous white kitchen with gleaming
granite countertops and told her he was leaving her,
Charlie thought of Rae’s words first. Sad, but true. He’d let her keep the vacation house in Evergreen Cove,
and the Subaru they’d recently paid off. “I’d pay alimony
if we were married,” he’d told her, assuaging his guilt.
“The house at the Cove, the car, it’s the least I can
do.” The very least, she’d thought bitterly, but now she
didn’t feel bitter. She considered herself blessed things
had ended before she’d thrown good years after bad into a
relationship doomed to fail. Russell was a software developer, a pragmatic thinker,
and ten years older than Charlie. She’d met him at a
wedding—prior to her photography career, so rather than
the photographer, she’d been the bridesmaid at this
particular event. A guest of the groom, Russell had
sought her out, danced with her, and practically begged
her to take his phone number. After several dates she’d learned he didn’t want to be
married, and he didn’t want children. She had always
wanted children, and had assumed children were the
natural path following marriage. But when it became clear
they were serious, she’d decided both marriage and
children were things she could live without. With the
right person, sacrifices were unavoidable. Forever would
be worth it. But her relationship didn’t last forever, making the six-
year compromise she’d made all the worse for her to live
with now. After the kitchen conversation over coffee, he’d arranged
for movers to extricate her from the house and then
Russell had eloped with a woman with three children. One
going into college, and twin boys in the sixth grade. He
gave no explanation for what changed his mind, but she
knew. The other woman, Darian. Darian had changed his mind. Which had the unpleasant side effect of making Charlie
feel like she hadn’t been enough. She’d taken what was behind door number two and moved on
as intact as she could. Some nights, the hurt and the
fear of being alone lingered, and the fact she’d been
unable to achieve the seemingly simple goal of having a
family and settling down had haunted her enough that on
those nights she became practically nocturnal. Taking in a deep, humid breath, Charlie centered herself
on the here and now. June was nearly July and the hot and
sticky had both settled in at the Cove for the long haul.
Sunlight danced on the surface of the lake, sending waves
rippling in the wind. Behind the lake, a sea of
evergreens lined the hills. There were a few hidden homes
back there as well, but that was much too “deep woods”
for her taste. From her coveted porch—yes, even her fancy neighbors with
their large, enviable homes admitted to coveting her
porch—a patch of grass gave way to shore and led into the
water. Her aquatic neighbor, Earl stepped out onto the
deck of his beaten houseboat off to the left where it was
anchored in the deep, and raised a hand to wave. She
could make out his pipe, handlebar white mustache and
sunglasses from here. He was tanned and brawny and made
the best clam chowder she’d ever tasted. Murmuring from the side of her house brought her to her
feet as the smile spread her mouth. Finally! The voices grew louder as they closed in and she strode
across the porch to meet them. She couldn’t make out the
exact words, but she knew the boy’s voice as if he were
her own. “Aunt Charlie!” Lyon appeared around the corner and burst
into a run. Before she’d had a chance to take the three
steps to the grass to meet him, he’d bounded up them and
straight into her arms. She caught him against her,
savoring how small he was and knowing it was a battle
with time she’d lose, and bent to kiss his head. His
tight curls had grown out some since she’d seen him last
. They tickled her nose. Pulling away, she flattened his hair with both hands. It
sprang up again, refusing to be tamed. “You need a haircut,” she teased. “I knoooooow.” He rolled his green-blue eyes. Lionel
Downey was a stunning kid. He had Rae’s chocolate-brown
skin, a touch lighter than hers had been, and her
genuine, full smile. He had his father to thank for his
eye color: ocean blue so striking against his dark
features. “That’s a tired subject, if you can’t tell.” Her eyes went to Evan, who’d crossed his bare arms over
his chest and leaned a hip into the column at the bottom
of the steps to watch their interaction. His presence
wasn’t overbearing or intimidating, but easy. Evan
matched his laid-back, live-and-let-live attitude with a
lazy swagger that was anything but. He’d worked hard his
entire life and as a result, had confidence oozing from
every pore. The thinning pair of Levis, the casual T-
shirt hugging his chest, his array of tattoos, and devil-
may-care smile he showed to the world was him through and
through, but Charlie knew Evan ran deeper than his outer
layer. Her eyes tracked along the tattoos decorating his arms to
the new one. His latest patch of artwork was a series of
evergreen trees, their dark blue-black bases circling his
wrist and branching up his arm, their tops almost
reaching his elbow. Each tree was a different height, and
knowing his attention to detail, each one had some
significance. The whole of the pictorial on his arm had a
big one. His moving to Evergreen Cove. Unable to keep it from happening, her heart reverted to
the state it’d been in at age fifteen, somersaulting in
the wrongest way imaginable. Before he was Rae’s, oh, how
Charlie had pined for him. Must have been seeing him back
here, or maybe her earlier thoughts about her life that
caused the mini-backslide. But she couldn’t backslide. She ‘d made a vow to herself,
to Rae’s silent body, to care for Lyon and Evan. “Did you guys eat?” she asked. “Yeah. Dairy Dreem,” Lyon confirmed. She knew it. She tilted her chin at Evan in reprimand. An
accidentally sensual smirk crooked his mouth, surrounded
in a one or two days’ worth of stubble. “We didn’t only get ice cream.”
What do you think about this review?
Comments
No comments posted.
Registered users may leave comments.
Log in or register now!
|
© 2003-2024 off-the-edge.net
all rights reserved Privacy Policy