Page 26 of Riding with the Secret Billionaire

"I feel the same way," she admits."And for what it's worth, I understand boundaries and consent better than most.Owning a marketing firm requires me to honor people's boundaries, respecting their stories and their view of life, knowing when to push those limits and when to back off."

The parallel isn't one I'd considered, but itresonates."I believeyou."

She leans forward slightly. "So, whatnow?"

"Now, we keep driving," I saypragmatically."We reach Foxfire Valley by tomorrowafternoon.You attend your dressfitting.I begin securitypreparations.And we take each day as itcomes."

"Very zen of you," she teases, though the levity doesn't quite reach hereyes.

"Not zen. Just realistic." I squeeze her handgently."I'm not walking away from this,Trish.But I also can't make promises about what happens after thewedding."

"I know." She smiles, though it's tinged with a sadness that makes my chestache."Meneither."

We sit in silence for a moment, both aware of the unspoken complications but unwilling to let them overshadow thepresent.Finally, Trish stands, breaking themoment.

"Well, if we're spending our day in a fake Old West town, I'm going to needcoffee.Lots ofit."

I stand as well, grateful for the shift topracticalities."I hear the Guns Blazing Saloon serves a decentbreakfast.Though, probably not as good as Kathy'sDiner."

"Nothing could be as good as Kathy's pancakes," she says with exaggeratedreverence."But I'm willing to be disappointed for the sake of experiencing all this Old Westkitsch."

As we gather our things and prepare to check out, I watch Trish with an awareness that's both comfortable andunsettling.Whatever happens after we reach Nevada, these days on the road with her have changed something fundamental inme. As I'm now aman who might be ready to live again, not justexist.

8

TRISH

The Guns Blazing Saloon looks exactly like every Western movie cliché brought to life.It has swinging doors, and a wooden bar with brass foot rail.Even at this early hour, the staff is fully committed to the bit, dressed in period costume with performance-ready smiles.

"Howdy, partners!" greets a tall, skinny bartender in a black vest and crisp white shirt, complete with sleeve garters.According to the name tag pinned to his vest, he's Jude Marshall."Welcome to the Guns Blazing!Two for breakfast?"

"Yes, please," I reply, unable to suppress a smile at the enthusiastic commitment to character.

"Right this way," he says, leading us to a corner table."Our breakfast menu's on the chalkboard.Melody will be your server this morning."

As if on cue, a young woman in a corseted dress approaches, her dark hair styled in perfect vintage curls.Her name tag identifies her as Melody Shoehorn.She has the hourglassfigure of a pinup model, accentuated by her period-appropriate clothing, and a smile that could light up the room.

"Morning, folks! Coffee to start?" Her voice is bright but not annoyingly so, and she holds a genuine antique-looking coffee pot.

"Please," Jake and I say in unison.

As she pours, I notice Jake subtly scanning the room, his security training evident in the way his eyes track entrances, exits, other guests.Old habits, I suppose.

"First time in Rustic Junction?" Melody asks as she fills our cups.

"Just passing through," Jake replies with his standard response.

"On our way to a wedding in Foxfire Valley," I add, ignoring Jake's slight frown at my volunteered information.

Melody's eyes light up. "Foxfire Valley?The Heirloom Rose Hotel by any chance?"

I blink in surprise. "Yes, actually.My friend is getting married there this weekend."

"Small world! My aunt Wynona has a friend who works there, Patty Calendar, one of their wedding coordinators.Apparently, they're hosting some big fancy wedding this weekend."

I can practically feel Jake tensing beside me at this cascade of coincidences and connections.His security consultant brain is probably spinning through implications and potential risks.

"That's the one," I confirm. "I'm the maid of honor, actually."

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