Reluctantly Rescued (The Barrington Billionaires, Book 9) Read online

  Reluctantly Rescued

  The Barrington Billionaires

  Book Nine

  Ruth Cardello

  Author Contact

  website: RuthCardello.com

  email: [email protected]

  Facebook: Author Ruth Cardello

  Twitter: RuthieCardello

  Goodreads

  Bookbub

  New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Ruth Cardello returns with a hilarious addition to the Barrington Billionaire series.

  Copyright

  Working Edition

  ISBN eBook: 978-1-951888-05-3

  ISBN Print: 978-1-951888-06-0

  An original work of Ruth Cardello, 2020.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, places, events, business establishments or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to Serenity.

  Thank you for helping me plot out the fight scene. You rock!

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Author Contact

  Blurb

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  About the Author

  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 an
d 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?”

  Bradford groaned. “Don’t wait for him on the beach with a towel. If you want him to notice you, stop trying to get his attention.”

  She nodded and glanced down at the towel. “You’re so right. I’m playing this all wrong.” Her smile returned. “Thanks, Bradford.”

  Warmth spread up his neck at the sound of his name on her lips. He frowned and tried to recall the face of the last woman he’d been with—less than a week ago, the one who had gone down on him on the drive back to her place. She’d been talented then and in bed later. Why was he having such a hard time recalling her face?

  Joanna tapped a finger to her chin. “I’ve never been good at playing hard to get, but maybe that’s why I’m still single. This isn’t just any guy—this is Dylan Sutton. If things worked out between us I could actually be related to my best friend. We could raise our babies together. That alone should be enough incentive for me to up my game.”

  When Bradford didn’t answer, Joanna looked around for Dylan. He was standing next to his father within a circle of locals who were asking for his autograph. “Do you think he’s out of my league?”

  Bradford gave Joanna a slow once-over and made a pained sound deep in his chest. She was neither flirting with him nor digging for a compliment. Did she genuinely not know how fucking good-looking she was?

  Without waiting for him to respond, she squared her shoulders and said, “There I go doubting myself again. No one is out of anyone’s league, right? People are just people. I have to stop trying so hard. All I can do is put myself in the right place at the right time, and if magic is meant to happen it will.” Her smile did crazy things to Bradford’s ability to think straight. “You’re easy to talk to, Bradford. Thank you.”

  With that, Bradford did the only thing that seemed to make sense to do—he turned on his heel and walked away.

  Soon after Bradford’s departure, Joanna’s friend Aly appeared at her side. She said, “Connor’s proposal will forever stand out as the most unique I’ve ever seen. How about you?”

  “Definitely. I loved when he acted like the fish was too big for him to catch so he suggested she try it. And she did it and found the ring instead. I would have never guessed she grew up in a place like this. He brings out a side of her I had no idea existed.”

  “That’s for sure. And it’s a good one.”

  Joanna smiled in the direction of the couple. “He stands taller when she’s around. She obviously makes him happy. I love it.”

  Aly nodded in agreement. “Me too.”

  Even though Aly was one of Joanna’s closest friends, she was not above mocking Joanna’s desire to find a Prince Charming and settle down. Some people had huge dreams of making the world a better place. Aly was doing her share via her inventions in the female diagnostics field. Joanna’s dreams had always been much smaller, much closer to home.

  She’d grown up as the only child of two loving parents and adoring grandparents. She had cousins who regularly asked her when she planned to move back home and settle down. She had old friends who asked the same.

  Her life wasn’t perfect, but she kept her focus on the good in it. Family. Friends. Her new career as an author of a top-selling children’s book series about her rescue miniature horse, Betty. She was not only able to make a living off her new income, but also support the rescue and rehabilitation of other minis.

  The only thing missing? Someone to share her life with. Her biological clock was ticking. Marriage wasn’t for everyone, but she couldn’t imagine herself without a husband and child.

  “I saw you talking to Dylan earlier. How’d that go?” Aly asked.

  Joanna shrugged. “He seemed nice.”

  “He’s gorgeous. Most people don’t live up to their onscreen presence, but he absolutely does. Very sexy. Are you interested in him?”

  “Why? Are you?”

  “Not if you are.” Oh, crap. It was one thing to be competing with nameless swarms of bikini-clad fans, but she and Aly had never set their sights on the same man. “I do think he’s hot, but if you tell me you’re interested, I’m not that into him.”

  “I feel the same way. If you want him, just say so. No big deal.”

  For some reason that tickled Joanna’s sense of humor. “Is it that easy? We toss a coin and the winner gets him? I admire your confidence.”

  Aly laughed. “You know what I meant. Our friendship means a lot more to me than any man ever will.”

  A little devil in Joanna wanted to test that claim. “Okay, then I’ll take him.”

  Aly’s eyes narrowed slightly, then she smiled. “Whew, that’s a weight off my shoulders. I was thinking buying a condom in this town is probably equivalent to taking out a billboard sign announcing you’re engaging in intercourse.”

  Joanna shook her head. When it came to books, Aly was a hundred, possibly a thousand times smarter than she was. Aly’d gotten her PhD while Joanna was still working on her bachelor’s degree. But when it came to people? Men in particular? Aly was lost. She very rarely dated because, by her own admission, she lacked whatever romance gene was required for it.

  Given a real shot at Dylan, Aly probably would have sex with him once or twice then decide it couldn’t work out—for whatever reason she came up with that day—and it would be over. So, by claiming Dylan for herself, Joanna was actually doing their circle of friends a favor. Awkward breakups could add a strain to even strong friendships, and Aly and Angelina were like sisters to her.

  Still, Joanna felt she needed to clarify their stance one last time. “Seriously, though, if you like him I would never go after a man you felt something for.”

  “I know that,” Aly said then hugged Joanna. “The world is full of beautiful, rich men. You can have this one.”

  Relief washed over Joanna and a level of giddiness returned. “He’s just so perfect. Do you know he does all his own stunts? Angelina said he’s humble too, like Connor. He has the same goofy sense of humor.” She grimaced. “Can you imagine us together?”

  Without missing a beat, Aly said, “Absolutely. You’ve got a wholesome vibe a man like him would be drawn to. Just be careful.”

  “Oh, I intend to be. I’m going to play it cool—let him chase me.”

  “That’s smart.” She cleared her throat. “Speaking of being careful. I wouldn’t get too close to Bradford.”

  “Why not?” Joanna straightened in surprise and searched the crowd for him. He was standing beside Ian Barrington, looking more like a bodyguard than the friend everyone said he was. When t
heir eyes met, Joanna waved. He didn’t wave back.

  She wasn’t offended because she doubted his lack of response had anything to do with her. Like a brokenhearted horse sold to a kill lot, someone had taught him to avoid a kind hand. As with the animals she worked with, she understood patience and consistency was the key to earning his trust. She smiled at him and thought, It’s okay, Bradford. You take your time. When you’re ready you’ll see I’m not so bad.

  “Look at him.”

  Joanna frowned and turned back to face her friend. “Since when do you judge someone by how they look? Every one of his tattoos might be a tribute to someone he loves. He might have gotten those scars while saving people. We don’t know what he does.”

  “Exactly, we don’t know, and I wasn’t referring to his scars or tattoos. I’ve never seen him unarmed. Today he doesn’t appear to have a gun, but my guess is he has a weapon somewhere on him. They say he’s Ian’s friend, but that’s not his role here.”

  “You think he’s their security detail?”

  “He’s more than that. He’s dangerous, Joanna. Just promise me you’ll be careful around him.”

  Joanna looked across the crowd and found Bradford still watching them. “He wouldn’t be here if he was some horrible person. Angelina approves of him. I don’t get a bad vibe from him at all. You’re being paranoid.”

  “I don’t think so. His last name is Wilson. Guess what happens when you look Bradford Wilson up online?”

  “What?”

  “You find nothing.”

  “Isn’t that a good thing?”

  “No social media? No mention in any of the articles about the Barringtons? I couldn’t find a single photo of him online.”

  “So he’s a private person. That’s actually refreshing. Some people post too much.”

  “I wonder if Wilson is even his last name.”

  “I wonder if the birthmark on my left arm could have been left during an alien abduction I don’t remember, but then I yank myself back to reality. Does anyone here look afraid of Bradford?”