Riding with the Secret Billionaire (Love Along Route 14 #3)

Chapter 1

TRISH

Canceled? My perfect, meticulously planned first-class ticket that I splurged on specifically to arrive for dress fittings before Jordyn's wedding in Foxfire Valley, Nevada?The one I spent an obscene amount of money on because I promised my best friend I wouldn't miss a single pre-wedding event?

That flight. Canceled.

"Excuse me," I say, approaching the customer service desk where an exhausted-looking agent types furiously at her computer."I need to get to Nevada. Today.It's an emergency."

The woman barely glances up. "Everyone here needs to get somewhere today, ma'am.We're rebooking all passengers as quickly as possible."

"You don't understand," I lean in, lowering my voice to what I hope sounds urgent but not crazy-person desperate."My best friend is getting married in two weeks.I'm the maid of honor. I have to be there for the final dress fitting on Saturday."

Her fingers pause over the keyboard."Wedding emergency. Got it." She types for what feels like seventeen years."I can get you on a flight Sunday afternoon..."

"Sunday afternoon? Today's Sunday.Do you mean seven days from now?" My voice rises enough that several fellow stranded travelers look my way."That's not going to work."

The agent gives me a look that says she's dealt with a thousand women like me today."I'm sorry, but with the mechanical issues affecting some of our fleet, we've had to cancel over thirty flights.There's nothing available until Sunday."

I grip the counter, calculating the possibilities."What about other airlines? Other routes?"

"You're welcome to check, but most carriers are affected.It's a cascading problem. The storms across the Midwest last week grounded so many planes that maintenance schedules are backed up everywhere.If it helps, we're providing hotel vouchers for tonight, then we'll reevaluate tomorrow."

The dress fitting is at 2 PM on Saturday at the Heirloom Rose Hotel in Foxfire Valley.Even if I made a Sunday morning flight, I'd be too late.

I'm already pulling out my phone, ready to drop even more money I don't have."I'll keep checking other options."

"Good luck," she says, sounding genuinely sympathetic as she hands me a hotel voucher.

Great. That'll explain to Jordyn why her maid of honor isn't there to help with last-minute wedding details.

I move away from the counter, dropping onto the nearest uncomfortable airport chair.This is a nightmare. I scroll through flight booking apps, finding exactly what the agent warned, nothing available to get me anywhere near Nevada before the weekend.

My phone buzzes with an incoming call.Jordyn's smiling face lights up my screen, and my stomach drops.

"Hey!" I answer with forced cheer."How's the bride-to-be?"

"Freaking out in the best possible way," Jordyn laughs."Please tell me you're about to board your flight.Talia is already here, and she's driving me crazy with her 'organizational suggestions' for the reception seating."

I close my eyes, swallowing hard.Even her brother's new unofficial girlfriend got there before me.

I could tell her about the cancellation, watch her try to pretend she's not disappointed, listen to her insist that missing the dress fitting isn't a big deal.

.. but I know better.Jordyn's been dreaming of this wedding since we were twelve, planning every detail with military precision.

The last thing she needs is one more complication.

"Actually..." I scan the departure board one last time."Everything's fine! Just waiting to board."

The lie slips out before I can stop it.

"Thank God," she sighs. "I need you here, Trish.Silas's brothers are all arriving early, and I'm pretty sure Noah is about to murder the wedding planner for suggesting we change the table arrangements."

"Don't worry, I'll handle everything when I get there," I promise, already knowing I'm completely screwed."You just focus on being a beautiful bride."

We chat for a few more minutes before hanging up.I stare at my phone, panic rising in my chest.I've got approximately six days to figure out how to teleport from Toronto to Nevada.

Wait.

What if I don't fly? What if I drive?

I punch the route into Google Maps.Thirty-three hours by car. If I left now and drove through the next few days, barely stopping, I could make it just in time for the fitting.

Except... I don't have a car in Toronto.Renting one would be astronomical for a one-way trip this length, if I could even find one available on short notice.

I pull up my contacts, scrolling frantically.There has to be someone who can help.My finger hovers over Oliver's name, my ex who still occasionally drunk texts me.He has a car. But asking him for a thirty-three-hour road trip favor would come with strings attached I'm not willing to deal with.

Then I see it. The solution, blazing on my screen like a neon sign.

The RoadRunner app.

It's the newest ride share platform, specializing in long-distance travel rather than just city trips.

I'd downloaded it after reading an article about it in a marketing journal.

It's a brilliant concept from some mysterious tech billionaire who remained curiously anonymous despite creating one of the fastest-growing travel apps in North America.

I open it, typing frantically: "Toronto to Foxfire Valley, Nevada.Within 6 days. Emergency. Will pay extra."

Within minutes, responses start appearing.Most are obvious noes, people going in completely different directions or wanting to leave days from now.Then one catches my eye.

JWinters: Heading west down Route 14.Can take you as far as Nevada.Leaving in 30. Terminal pickup.

Route 14. That's the scenic highway Jordyn mentioned runs near their wedding venue.This could actually work.

Me: Terminal 1.Can be there in 10. Will pay half gas plus $500.

Three dots appear.

JWinters: Make it $750.Meet at passenger pickup. Black Ford F-150.License plate WINTERS1.

Something about the terseness of his messages makes me hesitate.Meeting a complete stranger for a thirty-three-hour drive could be the beginning of a true-crime podcast episode starring yours truly.But what choice do I have?

Me: Deal. On my way. How will I recognize you?

JWinters: You won't miss me.

Cryptic much? I grab my suitcase and weave through frustrated travelers, practically running toward the pickup area.My heels click aggressively against the tile floor, matching my racing heartbeat.

I reach the passenger pickup area breathless, scanning for a black pickup.The line of cars seems endless, drivers staring at phones, passengers loading luggage.

"Come on, come on," I mutter, standing on tiptoes despite my already substantial height.I check the time. I'm right at the thirty-minute mark.What if he got tired of waiting and left already?

Then I see it. A massive black Ford F-150, gleaming in the afternoon sun.The license plate confirms it. WINTERS1.

I wheel my suitcase over, rehearsing a quick introduction in my head.Professional but friendly. Let him know I'm not some weirdo, just a desperate maid of honor.

As I approach, the driver's door opens, and a man unfolds himself from the cab.

He's tall. That's the first thing that registers.

Tall enough that I have to tilt my head up, which almost never happens with my five-foot-ten frame.

His shoulders stretch the fabric of a plain black t-shirt that looks expensive despite its simplicity.

Dark jeans, boots. A jawline that could cut glass, partly covered by strategic stubble.

But it's his eyes that stop me cold.They're a piercing blue-green, almost unnaturally so, currently narrowed as he assesses me from head to toe.

"You're Trish?" His voice is deep, with the faintest hint of a Western drawl that definitely wasn't present in his messages.

I straighten my spine, refusing to be intimidated by his size or his ridiculously symmetrical face."Yes. And you're JWinters, I assume?"

"Jake," he corrects, taking my suitcase without asking and lifting it into the truck bed like it weighs nothing.My very heavy suitcase. The one I had to use both hands and a silent prayer to get into the terminal.

"Right. Jake." I clear my throat."Thanks for agreeing to the ride.It's kind of a wedding emergency situation."

He doesn't ask what kind of emergency, doesn't smile, doesn't offer any of the normal pleasantries that make these awkward stranger interactions bearable.He just opens the passenger door and waits, one eyebrow slightly raised.

"Always this chatty?" I quip before I can stop myself.

Something that might be amusement flickers across his face."Always this punctual?"

"I'm exactly on time," I protest.

"Exactly on time is late in my book." He gestures to the open door."We need to move. Weather should be clear most of our route, but I want to stay ahead of any potential systems."

I climb into the truck, which requires more vertical effort than I anticipated.The interior is immaculate. There are no fast food wrappers, no random receipts, no sign that anyone actually uses this vehicle.It smells faintly of leather and something woodsy I can't identify.

Jake slides into the driver's seat, his presence immediately making the spacious cab feel smaller.He starts the engine with a low rumble.

"Ground rules," he says, not looking at me as he navigates out of the pickup area."No smoking in my truck. No feet on the dashboard.Music selection is negotiable, volume is not.I stop every three hours for a rest stop, whether you need to or not.You sleep when I sleep, no exceptions."

"Excuse me?" I turn in my seat to face him."I sleep when you sleep? What kind of controlling nonsense is that?"

He glances at me, those breathtaking eyes briefly leaving the road.

"It's the kind of controlling nonsense that keeps us both safe.

I don't drive more than twelve hours without rest, which means we'll need to stop for the night.

I'm not leaving you alone in sketchy roadside motels while I sleep, and I'm sure as hell not leaving you alone in my truck either. "

"That's... actually almost sweet, in a weirdly overprotective way," I admit."But unnecessary. I'm a grown woman who can handle herself."

"I'm sure you can." His tone suggests he's humoring me."Rule stands. And one more thing - we're taking Route 14, which adds a few hours, but it's the most reliable path west right now.The recent storm systems left a lot of other routes with issues."

"You've got this all figured out, don't you?" I can't keep the sarcasm from my voice.

"I always have a plan," he responds, completely unfazed."That's why I can drive when the airlines are still sorting out their mess."

I open my mouth to argue, then close it again.I need this ride, and antagonizing my driver in the first five minutes probably isn't the smartest move.

"Fine," I concede. "Any other commandments I should be aware of, Captain Control?"

The corner of his mouth twitches, just slightly."Just one. Whatever wedding emergency you're rushing to, leave the stress out of my truck.Thirty-three hours is a long time to be trapped with someone's anxiety."

As he merges onto the highway, I steal another glance at my mysterious driver. His profile is all hard angles and sharp lines, his posture military straight. His hands grip the wheel precisely at ten and two, large knuckles and long fingers that make something low in my belly tighten unexpectedly.

I force my gaze back to the road ahead. Thirty-three hours in close quarters with this man suddenly feels like a very, very long time.