Page 8 of Riding with the Secret Billionaire

"The main one. There are some other pre-wedding events next week, but the fitting is crucial.The dresses had to be remade after one of the bridesmaids announced she was pregnant and would be showing by the wedding date."

Jake nods, processing this information."We'll get you there."

The certainty in his voice is reassuring.Despite having known him for less than a day, I believe him completely.Jake Winters strikes me as a man who keeps his promises, whatever the cost.

"So, what's your connection to Foxfire Valley?" I ask."You said you had business there?"

"Client meeting," he says vaguely.

"Always so specific," I tease."Let me try again. What exactly is your business, Jake?You mentioned security, but that covers everything from mall cop to James Bond."

He glances at me, a hint of amusement in his eyes."Risk assessment and security protocols for high-net-worth individuals and events."

"So closer to James Bond than mall cop."

"Neither, actually. More administrative than field work these days."

I study his profile. "I don't believe that for a second.You have 'field operative' written all over you."

"Is that so?" The corner of his mouth lifts slightly.

"The way you're always aware of exits, the way you position yourself, the way you continuously scan for threats, that's not behavior you learn sitting behind a desk writing security protocols."

His expression shifts, becoming more guarded."You're observant."

"I told you, marketing is applied psychology.I notice how people behave." I tilt my head, still watching him."So, what were you before? Military?Law enforcement?"

"Both," he admits after a pause."Marines, then private security."

"That explains a lot." The pieces are starting to fit together.

"Does it?" There's an edge to his voice now, a warning I choose to ignore.

"It explains why you're so..." I gesture vaguely at all of him.

"So what?" he challenges.

"Dominant," I say, the word slipping out before I can stop it.

His hands tighten on the steering wheel, knuckles whitening briefly before relaxing."That's an interesting choice of word."

Heat floods my cheeks, but I hold his gaze when he briefly looks at me."Am I wrong?"

The tension in the truck cab thickens, charged with something I'm not sure I'm ready to name.

"No," he says finally, his voice deeper than before."You're not wrong."

The admission hangs between us, loaded with implications neither of us addresses.I look away first, suddenly needing to break the intensity of the moment.

"We're about an hour from Heartstone," Jake says, his voice back to its usual controlled tone."You should text your friend, let her know you're making progress."

Grateful for the distraction, I pull out my phone to update Jordyn, still hyperaware of Jake besideme.

When we finally see the sign welcoming us to Heartstone, Missouri, a mix of relief and regret fillsme.Relief at the prospect of a real bed and a proper shower, regret that this first leg of our journey isending.Despite the strangeness of our situation, there's something about being contained in this truck with Jake that feels oddlyright,as if we've created our own little world where only the two of usexist.

"There it is," Jake says as we drive past a sign reading "Welcome to Heartstone – A Sweet Little Town Close to the Heart ofMissouri."

The town unfolds before us like a movie set, charming storefronts with colorful awnings, a small park with benches beneath leafy trees, locals going about their business with unhurriedease.We pass a diner with a neon sign declaring it "Kathy's Diner," a theater called "Upstage Dinner Theater," and an auto shop with "Miller Car Restoration & Repair" painted on the large garagedoors.

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