Chapter 19 Ruth
nineteen
Ruth
It’s Friday afternoon, and I’ve worked the entire day.
The bell over the diner door jingles, and I glance up from behind the counter where I’m filling a tray of waters for a huge table.
Noah struts in, his hair still damp from his after-practice shower.
Silently, he plops into a booth and shrugs off his jacket.
Forgoing a traditional hello, he says, “Mom, I’m starving. ”
“You always are.” I grab an extra cup, filling it with water and pass it to him as I take the tray to the table in the back. Giving them time to peruse the menu, I return to Noah’s booth.
“Practice was hard,” he groans, defending his hunger.
I take a guess at his appetite. “Meatloaf today?”
“That sounds perfect.” His gaze slides to his phone as I scribble his order on a ticket.
Nerve bubbles fizzle in my stomach, but I figure now is as good of a time as any to break the news.
I press my palms to the edge of the table, lean in a bit and speak in a hushed tone, “Just an FYI, I’m going out of town for the weekend, and I’ll be leaving here after my shift. ”
He continues to stare at his phone before his gaze slides up to meet mine. “Wait. What?”
“It’s a little getaway.” I wave dismissively, trying to downplay how nervous I am. “I’ll be back Sunday.”
His brow hikes, and he stares at me like I’m a stranger. “Since when do you have plans?”
I laugh, because it’s a valid observation. “I have gone out of town before.”
“Yeah, for restaurant supply runs, food shows, or maybe a funeral.” His brows dip low and his tone drops. “This isn’t like a secret surgery you aren’t telling me about?”
“No, it’s not a surgery. It’s for fun.” I shrug, acting like it’s no big deal. “I decided that I need a little break, and you’re finally old enough to fend for yourself.”
He narrows his eyes into slits. “Who are you going with?”
My stomach somersaults. “Uh…” I glance around the place and sigh with relief as it’s slow tonight.
Nobody needs me right this second. I hate to lie to him, but I’m confident if this weekend goes the way I think it will, I can tell him everything very shortly.
I sink on to the bench across from him as I murmur, “Just me.”
With his phone clenched in his hand, he doesn’t take his eyes off me as his gaze bounces around my face like he’s inspecting it for clues. After a beat, he says, “Good for you.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, you deserve to have a life, Mom.”
A guilty flutter winds in my gut. “I don't want you to starve,” I say, standing again with the need to move my body. “You’re welcome to come eat, and you know Tammy is here on weekends, and she’ll take care of you.”
“I don’t need someone to take care of me. I’m eighteen.”
“Well, you know I worry.” I ruffle his hair as I spin on my heel to take that table’s order. “So, we are having dinner Sunday night to catch up?” I call over my shoulder.
“Sure.” He’s already focused on his phone as he replies with a snarky, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
Speaking through a chuckle, I say, “I’m not sure that leaves out anything.”
His laughter joins mine but quickly fades into the background as I focus on my table. For the first time in a long, long time, I have plans that aren’t about Noah or hockey or keeping my house clean and my fridge stocked.
I’m doing something for myself.
Butterflies flit in my stomach, adding a lightness in my chest that I haven’t felt in…forever.
Tammy comes in to relieve me of the dinner rush, so I’m able to sneak out early.
Yes, I was watching the clock. How could I not?
With my rolling suitcase in tow, I step outside.
My stomach twists, unleashing the fleet of butterflies again.
Bill is waiting with his headlights cutting soft beams through this winter’s never-ending flurries.
Tugging my pink coat tighter, I step off the curb, and a zing of nerves fires in my gut.
He gets out of the SUV, greeting me by opening the passenger door.
“Are you sure you don’t mind sneaking around? It sure looks good on you.”
“I'm getting used to it, especially since I have a partner in crime.” I laugh as I tug my rolling suitcase off the curb, struggling to get it over the bumps of snow.
His grin grows as he rushes forward, taking my suitcase. “Speaking of crime, you should be warned, because I do have a small record. There were a slew of speeding tickets and a few parking violations. Let’s say my impatience shows on my driving record.”
“And here I thought you were a good influence.” I speak over my shoulder as I slide into my seat.
“I am.” He pops the hatch on the back, sliding in my suitcase before running around to his side of the SUV, and getting in. “Your suitcase is heavy. I hope that means you brought lots of board games.”
“Board games, snacks, fuzzy socks.” I click my seat belt and glance at him, a full lightning bolt zapping through my gut when I realize this is it.
I’m really going away.
And I’m leaving with Bill Baker—a billionaire—to see if we have a romantic connection.
This can’t be my life!
“That’s perfect packing.” He shifts the vehicle into drive and pulls out. “We won’t have a chance to get bored.”
The drive to the airport is quiet in that comfortable way I’m still getting used to.
He hums a little to whatever song is on the radio while he leaves one hand on the wheel and the other resting relaxed near the console.
Every few minutes his gaze slides to me, like he’s checking to make sure I haven’t changed my mind.
I haven’t.
He’s clean-shaven today, which is so unfair, because it brings out his sharp jawline and smirk that seems to have the ability to get me to confess all my thoughts.
His shirt is a deep blue to match his eyes, and it fits just right.
The rich scent of his cologne drifts over, something dark and subtle with a hint of spice.
I fight the ridiculous urge to lean over just to figure out what that spice is.
Clove, maybe?
No, I haven’t changed my mind about going with him.
If anything, each mile we travel away from town only solidifies that I need this weekend away.
And I want this weekend with him.
“You dressed handsome,” I say, my tone deliberately normal, though my heartbeat is anything but a normal rate.
He grins with one of his eyebrows lifted. “Well, I’m glad you approve. I was hoping to impress you.”
I smirk. “Maybe it’s working.”
His mouth curves into something just shy of smug. “So, you have been checking me out.”
“I didn’t say I was checking you out,” I protest very weakly, as it’s hard to deny it now when I’ve already said he was handsome. I shake my head, biting back a flirty smile. “You’re impossible.”
“And yet,” he says as his eyes stay on the road, “you agreed to spend the weekend with me.”
“Right.” Giving in with a small laugh, I fight the urge to tease him about how he forced me into this, because I want him to know it means a lot to me for him to take this time for this trip. “I’m actually excited to spend time with you.”
His gaze flicks to me, lingering a fraction too long before he says in a low tone, “Careful what you say. I might take that as an invitation to like you even more.”
Heat blooms in my cheeks, but I manage to roll my eyes for good measure. He takes a turn, pulling into the gates of a private tarmac. My heart skips a beat when he stops in front of a sleek jet that looks like something out of a movie.
“Wow, you seriously weren’t kidding about this spoiling me thing,” I say, blinking up at the plane as he opens my door.
He shrugs like it’s nothing. “You said you didn’t want to run into anyone you know, and this is the safest way to do that.”
I stare at him, and he slants his grin into a bit of a cocky angle I’ve never seen before.
Perhaps he’s gaining confidence around me, as he’s always acted rather modestly.
As he grabs our bags and walks me to the steps, I can’t help but keep stealing glances at him.
It’s like he’s also peeling back a layer he’s never shown me.
Perhaps to get me to also trust him? I climb up the stairs and pass through the open door into what is the fanciest plane I’ve ever seen.
With rows of leather recliners on each side of the small aisle, I follow the gold trim lights to the first seat and turn to look at him. “Seriously?”
“Don’t be nervous,” he says, settling in the recliner across from me.
He has our bags with him. He sets mine in a closet in front but retains his bag as he carries it to his seat.
“It’s not any different than any other plane, but the snacks are better, and it’s private but not private. Exactly how you prefer it.”
“And by not, you mean there’s a pilot behind that closed door?”
“And a flight attendant, but she only comes back if I buzz for her. So, it’s private but not.
” Before I can come up with a retort, he flips his tray down in front of his seat and reaches into his bag.
He removes a wad of snacks and plops them on his tray.
My eyes grow wide. There’s everything from candy bars, trail mix, pretzels, and gummy bears packs, and he sorts everything into two equal piles.
“You’re not the only one who packed snacks,” he declares with a victorious smile.
“You brought enough for a long trip,” I say. “I thought we were only going somewhere close by.”
“Or,” he says, glancing at me like he’s letting me in on a secret, “this is everything we need for our competition.”
“Competition?” I raise an eyebrow as he slides the final thing out of his bag and sets it on the table—a deck of cards. “Ever play Go Rummy?”
“I only vaguely remember from when I was little. I think I played it with my grandma a few times.” I’m already eyeing the peanut butter chocolates. He clearly knows the way to my heart.