Page 56 of The Kiss that Captured a Billionaire
He stepped back, slipping easily into a lighter tone. “Dad and I will give the van a once-over before you head out. Mom’s putting together a supply basket for you.”
Her protest was immediate. “Robby, you don’t have to?—”
“Don’t ruin her fun,” he cut in with a grin. “There’s fifty years’ worth of stuff in this house, and Dad’s been dying for an excuse to get rid of half of it. Consider it our contribution to your ‘find yourself’ adventure.”
Her throat tightened again, this time from gratitude instead of grief. “Okay,” she whispered.
She smiled, small but real, as he grabbed her backpack and carry-on. Together, they headed down the stairs. But as she reached the bottom, she glanced out the side window toward the long drive.
The SUV was gone.
Still, she had the uneasy feeling that Theo wasn’t finished with her—not by a long shot.
By the time the neon glow of Sioux Falls’ city lights shimmered ahead of her, Rose had driven through the night and half the morning, sustained by strong coffee, a few catnaps at rest stops, and the stubborn determination to put as much distance between herself and Theo Kallistratos as possible.
The atlas Belinda had insisted she bring lay in the passenger seat, its dog-eared pages soft from her study breaks. “You never know when your phone will lose signal,” Belinda had warned in that matter-of-fact Midwest mom voice. “Paper doesn’t glitch.”
She’d plotted a loose loop in bright pink highlighter: Badlands National Park, then up into Montana to see Glacier National Park. Maybe even dip into Idaho and Wyoming, then meander back east through Colorado. National forests, state campgrounds, stretches of BLM land. She’d never left New York before—never had the time, the money, or the freedom. Now she had all three.
Somewhere, somehow, she’d find the place that felt like hers. Until then, she’d just… see everything.
She pulled into the grocery store lot with a mental checklist: bread, fruit, peanut butter, a few quick and easy meals she could prepare on the camp stove that came with the van, and maybe some cookies because adventure required cookies.
Her mood was lighter than it had been in days—until she rounded the corner of her van and jerked to a stop.
Theo was leaning against the passenger door like he’d been poured there, all dark suit and unreadable eyes.
Her disbelief lasted all of two seconds before it melted into flat-out exasperation. She didn’t even speak. Just unlocked the side door and pushed the grocery cart closer.
A couple of teenagers in a beat-up sedan cruised past, whistling out the window. “Love the van!” one yelled.
Heat climbed her neck. She grabbed two bags and climbed inside, setting them on the narrow counter space. When she turned around, Theo was holding another bag out to her as if this was perfectly normal.
They worked in silence, passing bags, arranging groceries. She shoved the cold items into the van’s tiny refrigerator, ignoring the way his presence seemed to take up more space than the van had.
By the time she shut the fridge, he was gone—returning the cart. She shut the side door and exhaled, but the relief was short-lived.
The passenger door clicked open.
Theo slid into the seat without a word.
Her eyebrows lifted. She said nothing, just walked around to the driver’s side, got in, and started the engine. If he wanted a ride, fine. But she wasn’t about to make this comfortable for him.
The first few minutes were quiet—if you ignored the squeal at a stop sign, the yellow-that-was-red, and the two near-collisions with locals who clearly didn’t appreciate her ‘creative’ lane choices.
She could feel him watching her, his hand clamped on the grab handle above the door, the other gripping the seat so tightly his knuckles were bone-white.
Finally, through clenched teeth, he asked, “Exactly how long have you had your driver’s license?”
She flashed him a bright smile. “Since I was sixteen.”
His eyes narrowed. “And how long have you actually been driving?”
Her smile widened. “Counting yesterday? Two days.”
If possible, his face went paler—with just a hint of green. “Perhaps,” he said in a carefully controlled voice, “it might be best if I took over from here.”
She made a show of thinking about it. “Hmm. Okay.”
