Page 59 of Rival to the Billionaire

Like they've teased me since the moment I met her in elementary school…all while she corrected me over a grammar mistake I made on a homework assignment.

How could I forget?

I can see her shoulders tense. It's clear that she's on edge over this.

Good.

"Okay, my stomach's growling," she finally says when she tugs on her jacket and the helmet. I help her fasten them. "Let's go, so we can eat."

"It's early. We'll take it easy today. We’ll explore. Maybe snack our way around town before heading to the restaurant. It doesn’t open until early evening. But don’t worry. In the meanwhile, I know lots of cool places here to swing by until we get there.”

She looks over, her mouth tight. "Is it always about the destination for you, Ryder?"

I blink. "No. These days, it's about the person I'm on the journey with."

I swear…for a moment—a tiny, tiny moment—I see her cheeks turn pink. Her shoulders tensing.

This is feeling like a small victory… "C'mon," I pull her towards the bike. "This open road's waiting for you. Hop on, and I'll show you just how fun a bike ride can be."

"A hundred-dollar pork cutlet, Ryder. I'm counting on you. Nothing less or my stomach'll die."

I wink at her. "Trust me."

She stares at the bike. "So help me, Anderson, if I fall…" she mutters.

I lean in. "I won't let you fall," I murmur. "You should know that by now."

Her hazel eyes open wide at me…before she hops on, sliding her arms around my waist. I feel her grip on my t-shirt tighten. "Just don't go faster than fifty," she begs.

"Not a problem."

Then we roll off, beneath the clear blue sky, into the sea of golden brown, yellow, and olive trees. And though the butterflies in my stomach aren't still or quiet, I'm surprised to realize they're not nearly as chaotic as they were the past few days. Not that I mind a good dose of butterflies, mind you… But I'm surprised to be calm. I never expected anything like this. Somehow, this is exactly what I needed.

Because it's always good to come back to your roots.

And Jenny Forde is one of my roots, I realize.

Whether I want to admit it or not.

ChapterEighteen

RYDER

By the time the sun finally looks ready to set, we've snacked our way through most of the desert. Grabbing bites on the go, we ride through dune after dune, using our helmet headsets to chat about a little bit of everything, from our company to our families, or lack thereof.

When we reach our destination and park the bike, there's a beautiful silence that settles over us—not an awkward silence, but a comfortable one.

And Jenny, for her part, seems calm.

The small talk along the way is pleasant, even polite…for us. But she hasn't been her open, outgoing self. And I know I'm still not myself, still not revealing too much about my deepening attraction to her…though I'm tempted to, as we park in front of the restaurant, a little-known place named La Sonrisa.

Parking the bike in the dirt lot by the entrance, I become instantly aware of how Jenny's hands have gripped my waist this entire ride, and now, I finally take note that her long fingers are laced over my jeans, clutching me tight. Glancing back at her through my helmet, I catch her looking back at me, my blue eyes falling on her fiery gold gaze.

"Jenny?"

She blinks, staring at me.

"We're here," I continue. "You alright?"

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