Page 35 of Riding with the Secret Billionaire

"You look incredible," I tell her as she stands on a small platform, the hotel's staff seamstress making a minor adjustment to the hem. "Silas is going to lose his mind when he sees you."

Jordyn smiles, though there's a hint of nervousness beneath her confidence. "You think so? It's not too simple?"

"It's perfect," I assure her. "Elegant, timeless, uniquely you. Just like your relationship with Silas."

Her expression softens at the mention of her fiancé. "He's pretty great, isn't he? Even with all the control-freak tendencies and the broody moments."

"The control-freak tendencies can be oddly appealing in the right context," I say before I can stop myself.

Jordyn's eyebrows shoot up again. "Oh really? Do tell, Trish. Has Captain Control been giving you orders outside of the driving schedule?"

I feel my face heat again. "This fitting is about you, not my complicated whatever-it-is with Jake."

"Fine, deflect all you want," she says with a knowing smile. "But I've never seen you this flustered over a man before. It's intriguing."

After the fitting, Jordyn insists I join her and the bridesmaids for a late lunch at the Holy Rolling Steakhouse, one of the hotel's signature restaurants. The space is elegant but comfortable, with large windows offering mountain views and a menu that makes my mouth water after days of roadside diner food.

Throughout the meal, I find my attention wandering, wondering where Jake is, what security measures he's implementing, when I might see him again. Despite the luxury surroundings and the joy of reuniting with my best friend, I feel his absence like a physical ache.

"Earth to Trish," Jordyn says, waving a hand in front of my face. "You're a million miles away. Or maybe just wherever Jake Winters happens to be at the moment?"

I pull my focus back to the conversation, grateful that Jordyn has kept her voice low enough that the others can't hear. "Sorry. Just a bit tired from the drive."

"Mmhmm, 'tired,' sure," she teases. Then, more seriously, "He really got under your skin, didn't he?"

I consider denying it, but what's the point? Jordyn knows me too well. "Yes," I admit. "In ways I wasn't expecting."

"Good," she says firmly. "You deserve someone who challenges you. Someone who makes you feel things intensely enough that you get that dreamy look on your face in the middle of lunch."

"I do not have a dreamy look," I protest.

"You absolutely do. It's adorable and slightly nauseating."

After lunch, Jordyn is whisked away for a meeting with the wedding planner, and I finally have a chance to retreat to my own room and process the whirlwind of the morning. The suite is spacious and luxurious, with a king-sized bed, sitting area, and a bathroom larger than some apartments I've lived in. My luggage has been delivered and unpacked, my clothes hanging neatly in the closet—a service I'm not used to but could definitely get accustomed to.

I'm just considering a long, hot bath when my phone buzzes with a text. Jake.

Jake:Free for dinner? 8 PM, Holy Rolling Steakhouse. Private dining room.

My heart doesa ridiculous flutter at the simple message. I compose several responses, deleting each one before settling on:

Me: I'll be there. Dress code?

Jake:Whatever makes you comfortable. But there's a package being delivered to your room that you might consider.

Intriguing.I'm about to ask for clarification when a knock at the door interrupts. A hotel staff member stands outside with a large white box tied with a simple black ribbon.

"Delivery for Ms. Walker," he announces, handing over the box with a polite smile.

"Thank you," I say, slightly bewildered but excited.

Back inside, I place the box on the bed and carefully untie the ribbon. Inside, nested in tissue paper, is a dress, a deep emerald-green that shimmers subtly as I lift it out, the fabric flowing like water through my fingers. It's elegant without being overly formal, sexy without being revealing, and exactly the kind of style I'm drawn to.

Beneath the dress is a small card with Jake's neat handwriting:

No pressure to wear this.But green suits you. - J

The thoughtfulness of the gesture,the obvious care he took in selecting something that matches my taste rather than imposing his own preferences, brings unexpected tears to my eyes. This is not the action of a man seeking a casual fling or a road trip romance. This is something deeper, more considerate, more attuned to who I am as a person.

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