Page 58 of The Kiss that Captured a Billionaire
Theo looked out the window, warmth spreading through him. “Yeah,” he said softly. “This is love.”
Fourteen
The rest area was nothing like she’d imagined when she pulled in. In her mind, ‘rest area’ meant ugly asphalt, buzzing overhead lights, and the occasional vending machine that may or may not eat your money.
This was… beautiful.
Her van sat at the far end of the winding loop that cut alongside a river, tucked under a cluster of old cottonwoods whose leaves whispered in the evening breeze. Close enough to the restrooms—elaborate outhouses, technically—but far enough from the main lot to feel private.
The bathrooms were surprisingly clean—almost enough to forgive them for being oversized porta-potties with wooden siding and a vent stack. A pump outside offered potable water, and there were picnic tables and grills scattered around, like the place had been designed with lingering in mind.
The air had shifted with sunset, turning crisp enough that she’d gone hunting for a blanket. Back in the city, summer nightsclung to the heat. Here, the temperature dropped as if someone had flipped a switch.
She liked it. It felt… fresh.
Exhaustion had been stalking her since she’d left New York, heavier than the blanket draped around her shoulders. She and Robby had only slept in fits since leaving New York—three, maybe four hours sprawled in the back of the box truck—and she’d left before she’d even spent a single night in Omaha.
Now, soup simmered on her little propane stove. She set the pot on the picnic table, poured the soup into a tin camping mug that looked like it was from World War II, then carried it and her folding chair to the spot beside her van. Steam curled up, carrying the salty, familiar scent of chicken noodle.
She sipped slowly, letting the heat seep into her. The sky deepened from twilight to ink, the first stars pricking through. The more that appeared, the quieter everything seemed to grow—like even the breeze was leaning in to listen.
And then, inevitably, she thought of him.
Theo.
It wasn’t fair, really. She’d put miles between them, yet the inside of her van still seemed to carry a trace of his aftershave—clean, sharp, warm in a way that tugged at her. She pulled the blanket tighter, tipping her head back toward the stars.
“Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight…” The old rhyme slipped out before she could stop it. The words were muscle memory, tangled with years of childhood wishes. “I wish…” Her throat tightened. “…I wish things could have worked out.”
A breeze lifted a strand of hair across her cheek, and she brushed it back, annoyed at herself.They might still…The thought curled into her mind like a cat making itself comfortable.
Her frown returned as she replayed what Theo and Nikos had said—about her grandfather wanting confirmation that shewashis granddaughter. She’d brushed it off, but now…
Her grandmother had always spoken like there was no place for Rose in that world. But grief made people say things. Losing Rose’s mother would have been devastating. She remembered the haunted look in her grandparents’ eyes whenever her father’s name came up.
Maybe her mother’s parents had changed their minds. Maybe they wanted to know her. And they were her only living family—at least, the only ones she knew about.
But even if she wanted to explore that, there was still the second issue.
Theo.
Her hand lowered to her stomach under the blanket almost without her realizing it. He’d said the condom had broken. Could she be pregnant? She hoped not—God, she hoped not—but if she was, she could make it work. She’d always made things work. A job, careful budgeting—those she could manage. She didn’t need a man to raise a child.
What she didn’t need—ever again—was manipulation. And Theo, for all his charm and all his intensity, had tried to control her. He should have told her what was going on, trusted her to make her own decision, instead of going full Greek-caveman.
Somewhere in the time since he’d shown up with no demands other than keeping her company, she’d forgiven him—but forgiveness wasn’t surrender. Moving forward would be on her terms, not his.
A smile touched her lips as she remembered the dumbfounded look on his face when he first laid eyes on her van. Then she outright giggled, the sound bubbling up from her chest as she pictured his stranded figure at the gas station, his face a mask of disbelief as she drove away.
She shook her head, tilted her face back to the stars, and made her wish again. Deep down, she knew it would come true. Somehow, some way, it had to.
“Don’t let him give up,” she whispered.
She finished her last spoonful of warm soup as the stars densely populated the dark sky. She carefully packed her small stove, neatly folded the chair, and secured everything in the van. Once inside, she rinsed her mug, brushed her teeth, and pulled out the bed. The van creaked as she settled in, the thick quilt Belinda had insisted she take because it matched the character of her van, wrapping her in warmth against the night chill.
A soft sigh escaped her as she imagined it was Theo’s arms. She’d only had one night, but she missed the feel of his body against hers.
She fluffed the pillow, sighed, and decided to review the map for tomorrow’s journey. She was running her finger along the line of a highway when a light tap on the window jolted her. Her eyes flew to the window—and then she dissolved into laughter as she remembered her last wish.
