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Reluctantly Rescued
Author: Ruth Cardello

Chapter One

 


“Isn’t he something?” a woman beside Bradford Wilson asked as he hauled his jean-clad ass out of a pond in Oklahoma. Her voice was wistful and her eyes full of admiration but not for Bradford.

“Yeah, something,” he said in a mocking tone she didn’t seem to notice. He was soaking wet from the waist down. She was dressed in flat sandals and a yellow flowered sundress that flattered her curvy figure. Pretty in a girl-next-door kind of way. Light makeup, bright smile, she exuded a sweet innocence he had no interest in. Still, it irked him that she was holding a towel for a man who appeared to be in no rush to get out of the water while not acknowledging the dripping wet man beside her.

“Wasn’t it amazing when he caught those two fish with his bare hands?”

“Amazing.” Noodling was a “sport” Bradford had only recently become aware of. Leave it to Connor to propose at an event where everyone was using their bare hands as fish bait. Bradford didn’t have patience for many people, but he made time for Connor because he was fucking hilarious even when he wasn’t trying to be.

Bradford would have flown out for the proposal for that reason alone, but he’d also been asked by Ian Barrington to secure the area for the event. The Barringtons didn’t go anywhere blind.

When Bradford looked around he saw the crowd in terms of what he’d discovered about them via a background check: type of employment, marital status, known substance abuse, registered weapons, as well as any criminal history. The locals were harmless. Connor had chosen a woman with a good crew. Almost too good to believe.

Like the woman beside Bradford, Joanna Ervin was one of Angelina’s friends from New Jersey. He’d done a more thorough background check on her than anyone else there because it bothered him when he couldn’t find anything wrong with a person.

Born and raised on a small horse farm in western New Jersey, she’d never gotten so much as a speeding ticket. Although she’d moved closer to New York for college, she was still well liked in her hometown. In her high school yearbook she’d been listed as “Most likely to make you smile.”

Her last relationship had ended amicably after a year. That didn’t seem right. Who calls it off after a year with no ill feelings? Bradford had made it a point to not only meet the guy she’d dated, but also get him drunk enough to answer some pretty personal questions.

He’d had only good things to say about Joanna—said he would have married her, but somehow, over time, he’d slid into the friend category.

Bradford glanced at the beautiful woman beside him. Friends after a year? One or both of them must have been bad fucks.

Her bright smile confirmed that she was no mind reader. He didn’t smile back. Her gaze wandered downward. She blinked a few times quickly, then asked, “Did you bring swim trunks?”

“Would I be standing here in wet jeans if I had?”

Her eyebrows rose and fell, then she shrugged. “I didn’t bring a suit either. Call me a bleeding heart, but I feel bad for the catfish. They’re only defending their nests.”

“They’re fucking fish.” He frowned and looked away as soon as he’d said it. He filtered himself around most people, but there was something about her that made stupid shit come out of his mouth. “Wait, let me guess, you’re a vegetarian.”

She didn’t look bothered by his growled accusation. “I am, but if you’re looking to fight about it, you’ll be disappointed. I live my life and let others live theirs.”

“That works until you meet an asshole.”

She laughed and wagged a finger. “Good point.”

He hadn’t said it as a joke. He didn’t like that nothing seemed to bother her. Not even me. People shied away from him normally. Crowds parted for him. The hands of armed men shook when he stared them down. Even the US government wasn’t sure they could control him.

Some say a person’s eyes are a window to their soul. Bradford had been told his were cold and dark. Not shocking—a piece of him died with every life he took, and he’d taken more than any man should.

Her attention had returned to Dylan Sutton. “I can’t get over how much he looks like Connor. If I married him and we had children they might look just like Connor and Angelina’s. How adorable would that be?”

Marry? What the fuck was she talking about? “You’re interested in Dylan?”

Joanna hugged the towel to her chest and a dreamy look entered her eyes. “Crazy right? I’m not saying anything will happen, just letting myself dream. I wish I’d met him before he became a movie star. How could I compete with the beautiful women who are falling all over him now?”

Bradford had had enough of the conversation. He was about to walk away when Joanna grabbed his arm.

“Here he comes. Quick, look like I just said something funny.”

He pulled away from her touch. He didn’t like how it had sent warmth through him nor that the smile she was flashing him was for the benefit of another man.

When Dylan walked by without glancing at her, she pursed her lips. “He didn’t even notice me this time.”

“You can do better than that idiot.”

She laid a hand on his arm again as if his reaction to her initial touch hadn’t been negative. “He’s not an idiot. On the surface he and Connor act like big lugs, but they have hearts of gold. Look at how good Connor is with Angelina’s son—you’d think they’d known each other all their lives. I know you can’t hurry love, but when I see Angelina and Connor together it gives me happy goose bumps.” She hugged the towel to her chest. “It might sound like a foolish dream, but I want the fairy tale.”

He stared back at her, not saying a word. Dylan and Connor weren’t the problem; his reaction to this sparkly, upbeat woman was. As she looked up at him, his heart began to thud. They could not be more different. She was the type who probably “relocated” spiders outside because every life was precious. When he took aim, it was for a kill shot. She was dreaming of living happily ever after. The best he hoped for was to die doing something important.

Her gaze dipped down his chest and lower. Her cheeks were pink when her eyes met his again. “Would you like the towel?”

He shook his head. Dylan wasn’t a bad guy. She could do much worse. Still, he didn’t like the image of her with him, gathering with the Barringtons, raising a litter of optimistic, beautiful children.

Am I so fucking miserable I can’t stand the idea of anyone being happy?

She leaned closer and his breath caught in his throat. Her voice was like warm honey, sweet and addictive. “Hey, don’t tell anyone what I said about marrying Dylan, okay? My friends already think I’m a flake when it comes to dating.”

He could have told her he wouldn’t, but instead he just held her gaze. He found the less he said the better it was for everyone. He gave her a look that usually had people taking a step back from him.

She continued, “If it doesn’t work out, that’s fine, but a girl has to try, right?”

Why won’t she shut up? What does she want from me? He decided to toss her a bone. “Don’t look so eager.”

Her forehead furrowed. “Excuse me?”

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