Rescuing Mr. Wright (Texas Treasures)

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Rescuing Mr. Wright (Texas Treasures) Page 1

by Kandie Delley




  RESCUING MR. WRIGHT

  Kandie Delley

  “Just let me have you,”

  JADEN LEANED IN and Sunny traced his lips with her fingertips. He kissed them as they glided over his mouth. Catching her index finger, he slowly slid his tongue along its tender underside. Sunny melted, feeling the warmth of his tongue. Her breath caught in her throat and something primal smoldered within

  "Jaden,” she moaned, “Make love to me.”

  RESCUING MR. WRIGHT copyright 2013 Kandie Delley. All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, character descriptions, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies or events is purely coincidental. no part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means –except brief quotations in critical reviews or articles, without prior written permission of the author.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication data

  Available upon request

  Cover Concept and Design: KanDel Media

  Edited by: Linda Collins

  Stock images by Dreamstime

  www.kandiedelley.com

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Rescuing Mr. Wright

  Countdown to a Kiss (excerpt)

  Other Books by Kandie Delley

  Author's Note

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  Many thanks to freelance editor, Linda Collins, who’s always ready for the next story and my wonderful beta readers. Special thanks to the readers of the original “A Diva’s World” online scripted series. This is for you!

  RESCUING MR. WRIGHT

  Kandie Delley

  -ONE-

  SUNNY HAD ONLY taken her eyes off the road for a second. Well…maybe her perusal of the tall, amazingly built stranger waving at her from the side of the highway lasted longer than necessary. After all, those seconds were about to cost her, her life.

  She lost control of the car before she knew what was happening. Her eyes rounded—filled with terror—as she clenched her teeth and pressed her back into the seat. At the same time, she slammed the brake pedal to the floor, and braced her hands against the wheel, her cocoa knuckles blanching a shade lighter as her grip stiffened.

  Whipping the steering wheel sharply to the left, her car drifted into a tailspin. The tires shrieked against the pavement, careening onto the oncoming traffic lane. She barely missed clipping a small blue sedan that came to a screeching halt as its front bumper glided a hairsbreadth from ramming into her passenger side door.

  Everything around her moved in slow motion—the birds flying between the trees, the counterclockwise turn of her wheel, and the rotating payment—until her car lurched forward, rolling over brush, and tumbleweeds, finally stopping in a vacant field a quarter of a mile from where the accident had almost occurred.

  Still clutching the wheel, she took in shaky droughts of air, waiting for her erratic heartbeat to calm. She then dropped her forehead to the crest of the wheel while feeling the pounding of her heart rumble in her chest and echo in her ears.

  Inhale deeply, and exhale. Repeat.

  It was all that she could remember to do. She would have screamed to release the tension curling in the pit of her belly, if her voice hadn’t burrowed deep in her throat, afraid to rise for fear of losing the last shred of control that she had. Her gravelly breathing quickened as her body trembled. Beads of perspiration speckled her forehead, arms and neck, and her short-sleeved graphic tee began to cling to her skin.

  She swiped thin watery trails from the apples of her cheeks with the back of her balled fists. Twisting in her seat to peer through the rear window, she saw the door of the small sedan swing open. Seconds later, a man launched from the car. He turned in her direction and shouted something.

  Checking out his body language and the tone of his muffled ranting, Sunny figured that he was pissed. Hell, she would be too if she were in his shoes. Her eyes swept to “Mr. Tall, Dark, and Stranded”—the friggin’ idiot who had leapt onto the path of her speeding car and caused all the drama.

  What was his problem? Didn’t he realize that he’d almost cost them their lives? Did he think he was invincible, or wore an “S” strapped across his chest? He wasn’t Superman, or Bruce Leroy, and he Sho’nuff couldn’t catch bullets with his teeth.

  Luckily, he had moved out of her way, most likely aware that she intended to drive straight through, even if it meant that he became a speed bump on Interstate 35.

  “I won’t hit you, but my car will run all over you, fool,” she had muttered, right before her car began spinning and screeching across the highway.

  “God don’t like ugly,” her mother’s favorite quote floated into her mind.

  “Okay, mama, okay,” she mumbled. The last thing she needed was a guilt trip, especially from her mother who was probably soaking up sunshine in Palm Springs without a care in the world.

  Sunny slid her sunglasses to the crown of her head, and blinked at the harsh sunlight. She then softly chewed her bottom lip before cranking the engine. Circling onto the highway, she winced as Angry Sedan Man charged in her direction and morphed into a short, pudgy, black man. She could almost see the plumes of smoke steeping from his ears.

  She pulled to a stop as he barreled to the side of her car. Just as he was about to release a second round of profane remarks, his eyes widened and he hustled to the shoulder. Another car whizzed by. Sunny couldn’t help but giggle. After all, watching him suddenly hightail it off the road was priceless.

  He waved a fist in the air as the dust settled. When the coast was clear, he stomped to her window again and barked, “That stunt you pulled back there was dangerous.”

  “Sorry," she answered. "I didn’t see that man until the last minute.”

  “You know you saw him in enough time to slow down.”

  “Now you look, little man,” she huffed. “What would you have done if somebody darted out into the middle of the road?”

  “This ain’t about me. It’s about crazy female drivers,” he yelled.

  “Uh-huh,” she replied. “No you didn’t.”

  “Yes…I…did,” he countered. “Slow your butt down and pay attention to the road.” Without another word, he stalked back to his car.

  The Wannabe Superhero Guy sauntered to Angry Sedan Man and jumped back when tires peeled over concrete. Angry Sedan Man disappeared into a cloud of dust.

  “Now who’s the pot calling the kettle black?” Sunny murmured.

  She slid her sunglasses back to eye level and let the engine idle. As she watched Wannabe Super Hero, she folded her arms across her chest. The man had traveled back to his black Range Rover and was now waving at her. If it were another setting, maybe a pool party perhaps, or an outdoor social mixer, the hand wave would have had a different meaning. However, his waving at her today, with all the drama he had caused, was comparable to him volunteering for a kamikaze mission.

  Keep waving Psycho Wannabe Superhero Guy. You’ll be waving at my dust pretty soon.

  Sunny narrowed her eyes, edging her head closer to the steering wheel to get a better view of him. He wore a dark beanie cap, a light colored sweater, and jeans that molded to his tall, sinewy frame. If she didn’t want to run her car over him, she’d be attracted him.

  Her mind flicked back to the moment that she had driven past him and saw his Colgate smile, kissable lips and trimmed goatee. Even now, at a distance, she could see past his clothing, to the mold of his incredibly fine body. From his caramel-kissed skin, broad shoulders, powerful chest and arms, narrow hips, and the noticeable bulge
just below his belt, he was could have been the extra topping on an ice cream sundae. The perfect remedy to her lonely nights, if, she had met him before all the drama that had just happened.

  Well it was obvious that he was stranded and needed help. But what if his car didn’t start at all? Would he need a ride somewhere?

  Hell to the no! That ain't about to happen.

  Sunny was not prone to picking up strangers. In fact, Denzel Washington, her favorite actor, could end up stranded, bare-chested, waving a white flag of surrender in one hand and a twinkling tennis bracelet in the other, and she’d whiz by without a care in the world. Safety was one thing that she had always practiced while on the road. Mr. Roadside Casualty may be a nice guy, but she’d rather feel bad about not helping him safely from her driveway, than buried in a ditch somewhere. Besides, it was hot and humid, not to mention, she still had three hours of flat rolling plains and drought-stricken prairies to go before she could climb into her bed and fall into a coma.

  Sunny gripped the steering wheel of her sporty, candy-apple red Mazda Rx3 and circled again, heading home. She glanced in the rearview mirror and saw him running after her, arms flailing over his head, as if he’d been shoved out of a descending plane without a parachute.

  While Sunny considered breaking her “safety” rule, the man popped out of sight. She eased to the shoulder of the road and swiveled in her seat, stretching her neck to see over the headrest. She should continue driving home, yet something compelled her to check on him.

  Don’t do it, Sunny. Just turn around and go home. He probably stole that Range Rover. Whatever you do, don’t stop!

  “Hi,” the man said as he popped at the side of her passenger window, beaming the sexiest smile she’d ever seen. .

  Damn it, girl. You just had to stop.

  -TWO-

  JADEN TRIED STARTING his car again. No dice. He couldn’t have filmed a worse day in his life, if he’d written the script himself. First, a delayed flight made him miss an important business meeting. Then, his hotel reservations mysteriously cancelled forcing him to settle for the only place available, an amazing spa resort about twenty miles back. As amazing as it was, the 9th Wonder’s name defined it accurately, because it was a wonder that most guests didn’t go bankrupt after spending a night there. The costs for an all-inclusive night mirrored the food budget for a small independent film.

  To stir more trouble into his pot of bad luck, his car battery died and he didn’t have his jumper cables since his youngest brother Josiah never returns anything that he borrows. With a dead cell phone battery as well, he couldn’t call anyone for help.

  Yet help did arrive. At least he thought it had until the red sports car zoomed past him. After that, everything had happened too fast to remember details.

  Now, the same woman who had almost run him down and nearly crashed into another car had wheeled her fiery chariot around, headed straight for him. Clearly, she was a mad woman—a beautiful, deadly siren, behind the wheel—but still mad!

  If he’d known that flagging someone for help, would end up making him a potential victim in the real “Twilight Zone”, he would have just waited for highway patrol. In fact, he had considered walking back to the B&B until she appeared over the horizon. At the very moment, he also considered grabbing his crowbar from the back, just in case she was a bipolar banshee on a rampage.

  Jaden watched the man from the sedan bolt out of his car, intercepting her path and triggering a heated exchange. What did the sedan man think he’d accomplish by yelling at a crazed banshee behind the wheel? When the short man came back to his car, Jaden stepped to him to apologize. The man barked so many profane words that Jaden figured he might be a candidate for Turrets Syndrome.

  Before Jaden could offer his card for any repairs, the man floored the gas pedal and was gone. A cloud of dust whirled around him and he slowly craned his head to the woman in the sports car. What would she do now?

  It was as if they were ready to duel at high noon until she circled her car on the pavement and headed in the opposite direction. Jaden no longer cared how crazy she was, he needed her help. He ran fast, Tom Cruise Mission Impossible fast, striking his hands high in the air to flag her down. He would have caught her if he hadn’t slid over loose gravel and fell.

  Now he was stricken with temporary Turrets Syndrome, feeling every stitch of pain that his body colliding with the concrete caused. Tires shrieked in the distance. Maybe she stopped to see if he was all right. Maybe she wasn’t a banshee after all.

  He rolled to his side and slowly stood. Peering into the distance, he saw the red car banked to the right side of the road. She had stopped for him. He forced the pain to the recesses of his mind and jogged to meet her. As he bounded to her window, he said, “Hi.”

  She screamed as if she hadn’t expected to see him, and then yelled, “You scared the crap out of me!”

  “Sorry. I thought you stopped because you saw me fall.”

  “Are you crazy?” she yelled. “You could have gotten all of us killed.”

  “Me, you’re the one speeding down the highway like a bat out of hell.”

  “Uh…did you just tell me to go to hell?”

  “What?” Jaden asked. Yep, she was crazy. He had said nothing of the sort. Only crazy people heard voices.

  “You’ve got a lot of nerve, darting out in the middle of the road. I could’ve died back there.”

  “You’re being a little overdramatic,” Jaden replied.

  The woman swiped her shades off her head and gaped. She then opened the door and lunged at him, only to be hauled back by the restraint of the seatbelt. After she caught her breath, she rubbed her chest, and then calmly released the buckle before swooping her legs from under the wheel.

  Rising to her full height, which barely skimmed the top of his shoulders, she slammed the door with a force bigger than her petite frame. She then rested her hand on her hops, cocked her head to the side and glared at him.

  “The only person being dramatic out here is the idiot who darted onto the middle of the highway.”

  Jaden clamped his mouth shut — no point in starting an argument. After all, he could understand her viewpoint. Still, that gave her no right to call him an idiot or charge at him.

  After her tirade, he said, “I was stranded for over an hour and I needed help. From where I was standing, it didn’t look like you saw me.”

  “I saw you,” she snapped.

  “You didn’t slow down.”

  “Yeah, I know,” she replied rocking slowly in her independent woman stance. “That’s single woman code for, ‘I don’t stop for strangers’.”

  “Come on now. I’m a well-dressed man driving a Range. Do I really look like a threat?”

  “I’m sure there are many serial killers who have said the same thing before they whacked some woman on the head and dragged her to a ditch somewhere.”

  “Wow. Are you serious, right now?” Jaden asked.

  “As a heart attack,” the woman replied.

  “So why did you turn around?”

  “Because you almost got me killed, and I was about to toss a serious can of whoop ass on you.”

  Laughter erupted from Jaden’s lips. She was feisty. Just the way he liked his women, if they weren’t mental cases.

  By the looks of things, this chick needed to be committed. Still he had to play it cool. He needed a jump for his car battery, so he had to attract this Queen Bee with a bigger jar of honey.

  “Look I’m sorry. You’re right,” he said. “I had no business darting out there like some fugitive on the run.”

  “Now we’re on the same page,” she answered, her cynical eyes giving him a once-over.

  She giggled, despite the fury she had just unleashed seconds earlier. Jaden stepped back and scanned the length of her. Only a bipolar banshee could switch emotions like that. She eyed him a moment longer, and then flipped wispy sable locks over her right shoulder.

  “I guess you’re forgiven.�


  “Good,” he said. “I’m Jaden Wright.”

  “I’m Sunny Carlisle.”

  “Nice to meet you Sunny,” Jaden said. His eyes lowered to her neckline and the plump mounds of her cleavage peeking through the silver embroidery of her black shirt.

  “Uh, my eyes are right here,” she snapped while pointing two fingers toward her eyes.

  “Oh, yeah,” Jaden recovered. “I was just thinking about…”

  “I think I have an idea of what you were thinking.”

  Jaden grinned, forgetting that just minutes before, this speeding hellion nearly ran him over. Enjoying her sassiness, he decided to tease her further.

  “Well, can you blame me?”

  “I’m impressed. Most men would deny that they were just eyeballing my chest.”

  Yep. This was going to be fun. Jaden rubbed his chin thoughtfully as his eyes raked over her smooth chocolate complexion, ample hips, small waist, and plump bosom.

  “What do you expect when you put it all out there, like that?” He asked.

  “How dare you!’ She gaped. “I’m not putting anything, anywhere, and if I were to,” she continued, cocking her head to the side, “it wouldn’t be for you.”

  “Let’s be real, Sunny,” Jaden continued jesting. “I mean, even a strong man like Samson had a weakness for an attractive woman.”

  Sunny’s rocking stopped, as she stewed at his response. Jaden couldn’t help but laugh. She was easily roused, and more beautiful with each sneer she sent his way. As much as he liked toying with her, he had to get back to Dallas. Pronto!

  “Calm down,” he said.

  He loved women. He especially admired the strength and dedication that he often found within black women, throughout their common struggle in American history. He had always believed that, no matter the woman that he met, that in some intrinsic way, they all shared that history at their core.

  Still, for a woman, regardless of color, to be this closed-off she must have been through a great deal of hurt, most likely stemmed from another man. He imagined how much work it’d take to knock the chip off Sunny’s shoulder and show her what type of real man she’d been missing. However, the glare that she trained on him dissipated the thought.

 

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