Chasing Happy (Texas Desires #1)

by Rylie Roberts

  Sink or swim. She desperately needed to swim.

  Right now, being a secretary for a small attorney firm didn’t sound quite as bad as she’d thought.

  Yet, this was exactly what she always wanted since the minute she’d learned what public relations departments did for a company. This was her dream! Right?

  Yes!

  No! The fear of being way in over her head again trickled down her spine. Why had she ever thought this was a good idea? Something smaller would have been far better to help get her feet wet.

  She tucked her head inside the stiff collar of her trench coat and dropped her hands inside the pockets as the elevator announced its arrival to the first floor and opened its doors. The violent storm’s whoosh of wind slammed through the front doors of the high-rise apartment complex, the old antique revolving doors at the front doing nothing to keep the weather outside. The intensity of the thunder took her breath, causing her to jump a little at the loud, booming crackle. That had her moving, forgetting all about the self-doubt she’d warred with only seconds earlier. She paused at the front long enough to open her umbrella before darting out of the building. The rain pummeled her immediately, and she drew the umbrella closer to her head, hoping to salvage her hair.

  She registered the security guard’s warning to be careful of puddles and slick spots as the driving rain hit her pantyhose-covered legs. She, along with every other person on the sidewalk, ran from awning to awning, trying to stay a little drier. Lord, what a way to start the day.

  ~~~

  Reed Prescott drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and stared out the front windshield. Nothing pissed him off more than traffic at a complete and utter standstill. The scowl never left his face as the sea of red brake lights taunted him through the pummeling rain. The windshield wipers were barely able to keep up with the downpour raging outside. Reed tried in vain to rein in his annoyance toward every other driver on the road. He had no one but himself to blame for being out on a morning like this one.

  To add insult to injury, he was a native Texan. He knew spring storms were violent and popped up out of nowhere for any given reason. But this was Dallas for God’s sake. They’d been in a drought for the past several years. It hadn’t rained like this since he’d relocated his corporate office there months ago. Besides, the weathermen never got it right. So the mere fact that they’d predicted this storm for the last two days was absolutely reason enough to bet the damn thing wouldn’t have happened.

  Actually, the bigger problem was the people of Dallas couldn’t drive worth a damn. This morning, the roads were precariously tricky. Rain and motor oil didn’t mix on city roads, making the fear of hydroplaning a real threat. He’d seen multiple spin-outs all across the roadways as he’d driven from north Fort Worth back to his main office in downtown Dallas. The max thirty minute drive had taken at least three times that long.

  He fumed as the clock on his dashboard clicked, showing another minute passed as he sat in bumper-to-bumper traffic. Clearly, understanding the reason for the snarled traffic and accepting it were two very different things.

  He inched forward as the car in front of him made a right turn. The roads were slick as he navigated a turn on to Elm Street and he felt a little give in the traction of the tires. Luckily, he’d had experience driving in these conditions. He allowed his vehicle to ride out the skid until he felt the grip in the steering wheel return. He kept his watchful gaze darting between his front windows and the rearview mirror, glad both vehicles around him seemed reasonable drivers. They gave him room. Thank God. He didn’t have time to deal with an insurance claim right now.

  After what he estimated to be about two hundred feet, he came to another stop at the next red light. The long length of the road ahead of him also showed backed-up cars for miles. Yet he saw his prize in the distance. He only had a little over a block to go before he could turn into the security of his underground parking garage.

  Reed continued drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, refusing to consider the time this one block trek might take. Again, he had no one to blame but himself. He should not have stayed out all night long. Actually the true culprit in his lapse in judgement was a beautiful oil heiress with a solid set of fake double Ds and a bottle of Grey Goose. The combination always did him in. A family trait he’d inherited from his sleazy paternal grandfather, no doubt. Would he ever learn?

  The street light turned green. The car in front of him made it all the way through the intersection and Reed tapped the gas pedal a little aggressively, moving the small Porsche Carrera forward. He planned to make it through this set of street lights. If not, he’d sit in the middle of the intersection, blocking all traffic until he could move forward—fuck everyone at this point. He had shit to do this morning and he was already late.

  From the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a couple standing on the curb to his right. One held a bright yellow umbrella down close to her head. The other pointed across the street. About a second later, he watched the man take a step off the curb. The woman followed, and they darted off the sidewalk, making a beeline to cross the street in front of him. Neither looked his way or anticipated his determination to make it through this green light.

  “Fuck!” he declared as they took off running. He slammed on his brakes and went for the horn, yet the car kept moving. He slid along the street, the brakes fully pressed in. He grabbed the steering wheel tighter as if that would help and began turning violently in both directions, nothing stopped his vehicle from the hydroplaned path of barreling forward. His eyes locked on the yellow umbrella. She was moving slower than the guy she crossed with, and she still hadn’t looked his way. Seconds felt like hours as he watched her slowly run straight in front of his vehicle.

  Like a train wreck waiting to happen, he continued twisting the steering wheel and watched those ridiculous high heels slow her movements. He laid on the horn again, startling her. She twisted in his direction. With his eyes trained on her, the worst of all things happened. One second she was there in front of him, then the next, all he could see was her yellow umbrella falling to the ground and her feet and arms flailing in the air. She disappeared from sight as she fell on the slick pavement in front of him. He was useless in stopping his vehicle.

  “Goddammit! Help her!” he yelled at the man who’d run with her. Of course the guy couldn’t hear him, but he was helpless to do anything more as the hood of his car hid her completely from his view. Finally the guy looked back, saw his out of control vehicle, and ran back toward her. He scooped her up and practically dragged her out of the way seconds before his car fishtailed over the spot she’d just landed. Suddenly, the traction gripped and he had control of the car again.

  Frustrated, he slammed on the brakes and threw the gear shift into first, ignoring the stutter as the engine came to an abrupt stop. Reed jerked the driver’s door open and stood in the pouring rain, trying to see if he’d hit her. The rain soaked street held no clues. He scanned the sidewalk for his victim. A small crowd had formed, huddled around what he assumed to be the idiot who’d run out in the middle of traffic, and his brow furrowed at that complication. The cold wind, pouring rain, and insistent honking from those behind him had his scowl growing deeper. He left his vehicle sitting awkwardly in the middle of the intersection and stalked forward, forcing his way through the inner circle of people surrounding her.

  Once he identified which one she was and got a good look at her, he weighed his options. She stood upright almost unaided. He should just leave her there in all her stupidity and forget the whole thing happened. Another louder concern voiced itself. Most certainly in today’s world someone would have been taking pictures or videos of the scene that just played out. Eventually this would connect him with leaving the scene of an accident involving a helpless, idiotic female. The media would have a field day with that, all at his expense, and he needed no more bad press. With thoughts of headlines like Cold and Calculating Reed Prescott’s Hit and Run, he
aggressively shoved people out of the way to get to the female.

  Chapter 2

  Shaken to the core, Lara stood among a group of people shielding her from the wind. Nothing stopped the driving rain from soaking her. Her hands and legs trembled, and her whole body shook involuntarily as her teeth began to rattle. She balled her hands into tight fists, trying to get a hold of herself. There was no time in her schedule for this.

  “Are you all right?” the older man who helped her on the street asked. When she didn’t answer right away, he lifted her face to get a better look for himself. The rain hit her skin like small rocks, forcing her eyes closed. “Get that umbrella over her.”

  Someone beside her shared theirs. The shield gave her a momentary reprieve from the cold pellets. “Thank you. I couldn’t get my feet underneath me.” His face grew more concerned. Her voice sounded strange even to her.

  “Answer the question, honey. Are you hurt?” he asked again, his deep southern Texas drawl more pronounced this time. The concern in his voice matched his eyes. They made her feel momentarily safe and steadied her thoughts as she assessed her body’s condition.

  “I’m think I’m all right. I just need to keep going. It’s my first day at a new job.” Her voice was stronger than before. She felt someone from behind brushing at her coat. She reached a hand out to feel her purse still strapped across her body. That was an automatic relief. Her assessing gaze trailed downward and her soaking wet hair fell forward creating a veil over her face when she cocked her head.

  Great, the cool knot Kade made had slipped free. She shoved her hair out of her face to see a long black mark running the length of the entire left side of her coat.

  “We need to call the police and make a report,” a woman behind her said. An abrupt movement caught her attention. Two strong hands came between her and the man helping her, effectively separating them.

  “Are you hurt?” The voice was loud, deeply masculine, and Southern. Lara’s gaze followed the length of the arms until she was again pummeled with rain, barely making out a tall, nice-looking, drenched man standing in front of her. He got right in her personal space, bearing down on her. His handsome face looked angry and intimidating. She took a small step backward. Only then did she learn her favorite pair of shoes had broken during her escapade. The heel gave out, knocking her off balance. She reached for anything to help keep her on her feet.

  “Dammit! I don’t have time for this right now.” Lara felt herself being scooped off her feet. Her legs and head knocked into people as she gripped the lapels of his dark suit jacket to keep from falling. He was big and easily removed her from the throng of people gathered around her.

  “What are you doing?” Lara asked on a shaky breath. From over his shoulder, her eyes remained riveted to the confused stares coming from the people gathered on the street. “I’m late for my first day. I need to go.”

  Seconds later, she was placed inside one of the most luxurious sports cars she’d ever seen.

  “Scoot over,” he said, not waiting for her to move. Instead he gave a solid hip bump as he shoved her over the seat. She wasn’t graceful about navigating the center console to get into the passenger side.

  “I can’t get in this car with you. I’ve got to be at work in a few minutes.” She looked out the window toward the crowd again and saw the man who’d helped her standing in the street, holding a card in his hands with his eyes trained on the car.

  Her eyes darted to the man beside her. Fear gripped her heart as mental realization finally caught up to her. She had just been forcibly placed inside a stranger’s car.

  “My office is a block down the street. We’ll get you cleaned up and let a physician check you out,” he stated sternly, working the gear shift before slowly taking off. The car doors made a solid, heart-tripping locking sound, closing her tight inside.

  True self-preservation panic set in. She looked all around the small car, then outside the window as he did an unexpected U-turn in the middle of an intersection. The rain pounded the windshield making it futile to try to see exactly which way they were going. Lara ever so slowly shifted her hand toward the door handle. This was wrong. Being in this car was a very bad thing.

  How had this morning taken such an ugly turn in a matter of a few short minutes? She should have paid closer attention to the message her missing shoes were giving her.

  She forced her scattered thoughts to focus. As her hand inched toward the door handle, her eyes flew to the driver’s face. Even completely soaked, he was such a good-looking man, which, by her estimation, was the first characteristic of every serial killer she’d ever heard about. This was turning into every scary movie she’d ever seen all playing out right in front of her and she held the starring role.

  With visions of women being brutally victimized running through her mind, she moved quicker than she’d ever thought possible. She reached the handle, jerking quickly while preparing to leap free—only to succeed in ramming her shoulder into the passenger side door and banging her head on the window when the thing wouldn’t budge. Pain shot up her arm and radiated through her neck, landing squarely in her brain.

  “God!” she called out, reaching for her shoulder.

  “What are you doing?” Anger in his tone. “We’re almost there. Hang on.” He turned the car off the street and into an underground garage. Lara forced the pain in her head away and kept her eyes trained on anything she could find to distinguish where he had taken her. She barely registered when they came to a stop as she looked for all the exits that could lead her back to the street. A man dressed in a severe black suit came rushing from the building toward the car and her eyes locked on him. Would he help her?

  The moment he opened the driver’s side door, she heard the locks give way. She prepared a scream until the chilly air swept inside the vehicle causing an instant shiver, reminding how soaked she’d become. The panty hose she wore were very little protection to begin with, and the big gaping hole that ran down the side of her leg didn’t help. Her teeth began to chatter in earnest now.

  “Donald, we’ve had an accident. I need to get her upstairs,” he called out, already rounding the hood of the car, shrugging off his suit jacket seconds before he opened her door.

  “Where are we?” she managed, her drenched body violently trembling, she hoped only from the cold. Seconds ago she wanted out of the car, and now all she wanted was to stay there in the warmth of the heater blowing right on her.

  “Here, put this on. You’re a mess.” He held his coat open for her.

  “Where are we?” she asked again, not budging from her seat. After a second of frustrated silence, the guy reached a hand forward and not so gently took her elbow, pulling her out of the front seat.

  “I told you. We’re at my office. Did you hit your head in the fall?’’ He draped his coat over her shoulders and paused, his piercing gaze on her. She wasn’t short, but the coat swallowed her and the warmth enveloped her immediately. She wrapped the jacket completely around her body. The incredible spicy scent of his cologne briefly clouded her already fuzzy brain cells. He smelled masculine, musky, and expensive—if that were even a combination of scents.

  Again she swept her gaze up to look into his gorgeous yet hard and unyielding stare. His eyes were an incredible shade of vibrant blue. A color she couldn’t remember ever seeing before. A moment of uncertainty crossed his mind. She remembered that same look from the street. His eyes were made smaller with the furrow of his brow, losing some of the depth of that magnificent color. Seconds later, she found herself once again scooped into his arms.

  “Where are we?” Flight mode was back in full force. How was he able to so completely wipe away all logical thought? “I have a job I’m supposed to start today. I have to call.”

  She struggled this time when he ignored her. His grip tightened, and she was met with a hard, solid exterior and vise-like, muscular arms. He seemed intent on ignoring her. “This whole dominate, caveman approach has got to stop.
I need to call my job.”

  “I’ll give them a call when we get to my office,” he said, taking long strides down a side vacant hall away from the double doors of the lobby.

  “They expected me there at eight. I can’t afford to lose my job.” Her eyes scanned the nondescript walkway.

  “Trust me, you won’t.” Those were his only words spoken as he took them to a bank of two elevators.

  “I can walk. You can put me down,” she finally said as he struggled to reach out and hit the call button. He managed the button while continuing to ignore her completely. The doors slid immediately open. He never looked down at her as he entered the small box. The doors closed, shutting them inside, and there seemed to be a moment of indecision on his part. After a significant pause, he finally had no choice but to put her on her feet and reach inside his back pocket to pull out his wallet. He waved the leather in front of a digital display board. There were no numbers on the board, yet they immediately began to ascend.

  He kept his eyes on the read-out above the doors while watching each floor pass by. Wait, did serial killers take their victims to their places of employment? People in this building had to have seen them together. Cameras surely were stationed inside this building, possibly even inside the elevator. She looked up and around trying to find any hidden devices.

  The doors opened, and he woodenly extended a hand for her to walk out first. He still never looked her way. When she didn’t move, he dryly asked, “Can you walk this time without questioning every damn thing or do I need to carry you off here too?” Condescension laced those words.