Lightning Strikes
(This Bad Candy Novel, starts slower than Emmie's Daddy. They don't kiss until Chapter 7. All of the Bad Candy Novels are stand alone romances, with an interconnected world. In this book, things don't heat up to boiling until the second half, but then Adam is a smoke show of bossy goodness. All the wicked bits happen in the second half. I promise it's worth waiting for if you like a good story, a HEA, and some kinky fun! )
Adam...
The slap of Adam's windshield wipers fought the pelting rain. He tightened his grip on the work truck's steering wheel as dense black clouds held the morning light hostage. With fifteen minutes left before his meeting, he barely had enough time to get to Thornton Industries. The deal they were working on would ensure his team met their goals for this quarter. He preferred being early, but going fast on back roads in this weather was not a good idea.
Way too close, lightning cracked, sharp and bright, hitting the ground on the far side of the road ahead of him. In the blinding white, a dog bolted into the street. On instinct, Adam cranked down on his brakes, resisting the urge to set the pedal to the floor. He had no desire to spin off into a ditch. The Chevy in the oncoming lane swerved to avoid the animal but still managed to strike the dog. Without a hint of a pause, the Chevy sped past him. In his rear-view mirror, their taillights disappeared as they fishtailed around the corner.
Grumbling, Adam turned his truck around to go check on the mutt. If you hit somebody's damn dog, you stopped. Those were the rules for decent people.
His side tires sank into the spongy ground beside the road, tilting the vehicle, and he grimaced. If he got stuck over some damn dog, there was going to be hell to pay. Adam flipped on his emergency lights and pulled out his phone. The office picked up on the first ring. Marge remained one of the best business choices he had ever made. Hands down, she was the greatest office manager in history.
"You gotta call Harmon for me."
"Mr. Sanders?"
Adam said, "Who else would call you from this phone?" The dog's body lay on the slope of the ditch, barely moving. "Some idiot hit an animal and I'm stopping. Reschedule Harmon and offer him my apologies. I'll call you when I'm done with this mess." He hung up before she could respond.
With his emergency lights flashing, Adam dug around under his passenger seat for a tarp and a flashlight. Worse for wear, the heavy-duty cloth was still usable and would save his seats from blood stains and urine. He spread it across the back seat. God damn dog.
As freezing rain slid past his collar and down his neck, Adam waded into the high grass in his work boots. When the flashlight washed across the mutt's belly, it was clear she'd recently had puppies. Scraggly, medium-sized, the dog gave him an uncertain wag as he approached her. There was some lab in her. You couldn't beat the hope out of some breeds.
Hidden next to a collapsed cardboard box, he saw the puppies. Some idiot had dumped them in the middle of the night. A bold buff-colored pup inched toward his mother. Puppies or Mom first? The puppies were small, but their tiny eyes were open. He crouched next to the wounded dog. "It's okay, momma. I'm gonna help you." Careful as he could, he eased his hands under her injured body. When he lifted, she yelped and snapped at him in pain, leaving two puncture marks and a scrape on his wrist. His yell left her trembling in his arms.
"Don't worry. I got you. I know you are hurting." Taking cautious steps across the mud and slick grass, Adam carried her back to his truck. As carefully as he could, he settled her in the backseat. When she tried to stand, she cried out and slumped back down. The leg was broken. Out in the rain, the puppies cried. Whimpering for them, the mother dog lay with her hips slanted to the side. "Shh. I'm gonna go get them."
When he neared the sagging box, the puppies retreated toward the rain-soaked cardboard. Grateful for his Harcourt coat, he wished he had some beef jerky to draw them forward. As he slid his jacket zipper down, one bold one stretched toward him and barked. The sound came out in a squeak. "Aren't you the brave one?" He counted five pups.
Withdrawing a work glove out of his pocket, Adam eased it toward the mouth of the feisty one with the brown foot. With little razor teeth, the tiny dog bit into the leather and shook his head. Taking his time, Adam tugged the pup closer until he could pick up his thrashing body. As soon as his paws left the earth, the little dog cried out as if Adam were trying to kill him. He stuffed the sodden puppy, thin and big-bellied, into his jacket to get warm. When he had all the puppies stashed in his coat, Adam headed to his truck, supporting the dogs with his arm.
Every day, on his way to work, he passed an animal rescue. They might have a vet. Only four miles away, it'd be a good place to try. Their parking lot seemed to stay full, so they could probably find suitable homes for the dogs. With one hand, he emptied the box he used to transport paperwork to the office. The mother dog watched him with huge brown eyes as he blocked the rain with his body.
