by Krista Lakes
Even though she wanted there to be.
Either way, she was nervous now. It felt enough like a date to make her stomach queasy, and her legs want to move around.
She made sure her hair looked nice enough and that her mascara wasn’t leaving raccoon circles under her eyes. She didn’t really have enough time to get truly dolled up, so she hoped this would do. She had her favorite pale blue t-shirt that gave her just a little bit of cleavage and her best jeans that she knew made her ass look good.
She nodded to herself in the small mirror and headed out to meet Dylan.
She found him leaning up against a cherry red sports car, looking for all the world like something out of a magazine. He had on jeans and a leather jacket. He looked like sex on a stick, especially leaning up against the car.
“Wow,” she said, coming up to look at the car. “Is this yours?”
“Nah, I stole it.” She looked up at him, and he laughed. “Is it okay if I drive? Your car is mostly fixed, but I don’t trust it yet. I still need to replace a few things.”
Gratitude flowed through her. “Thank you so much for doing that. You really don’t have to replace stuff. At least let me pay for some of it.”
He shrugged and waved her off. “It’s actually been fun to work on it. Since Mia’s husband Carter owns W Motors, all the cars around here are either in pristine shape or electric. I’ve loved getting my hands messy in an engine again.”
Immediately, Bonnie’s mind took the phrase to a dirty place. She would like him to get messy with her engine. If he could make her car purr, she could only imagine what he could do with her body.
“I really appreciate it,” she repeated, forcing the sexual thoughts from her mind.
He opened up the passenger-side door for her to get in. If the cherry red sleek exterior was nice, the inside was even better. Everything was smooth lines and leather. It smelled like new car and felt like she was in the most comfortable chair of her life. It was hard to believe this was a car.
“Wow,” she whispered, running her hand along the dash. “What kind of car is this?”
“Ferrari,” he replied, putting on his seat-belt.
Bonnie’s eyes bugged out a little bit. “I’ve never even seen a real Ferrari. How do you have a Ferrari?”
“I told you,” he said with a shrug. “I stole it.”
She gave him a stern look as he started the engine. It hummed like a musical instrument. He pumped the gas, making it roar for a second, and she grinned.
“Seriously, how do you have this car?” she asked, looking around. “How does a ranch hand at a non-profit ranch for foster kids afford something like this? I’m guessing Mia doesn’t give them out as bonus perks.”
He laughed and revved the engine again before pulling out onto the dirt road leading out of the ranch. He went slow, keeping an eye out for kids. Even on the uneven gravel, the car sailed like she was floating.
“I wasn’t always a ranch hand,” he told her.
“Okay.” She smiled at him. He was enjoying having her have to figure him out. “So, what did you do before?”
“I owned a company.”
She looked around at the very fancy car. “Must have been some company. Why’d you quit? You must have been good at whatever you did.”
“I hated it,” he replied, pulling onto the highway. The car sped up, and she fell back in her seat with the momentum of it. She’d never been in a car that accelerated like this. She wondered for a moment if this was what astronauts felt like when they went up into space.
The engine hummed like it was singing with joy as they zipped along the mountain road. She remembered her own engine sounding far less happy.
“I was constantly working,” he continued once the car got up to speed. “Yeah, I made a lot of money, but I had no life. I woke up, got on my computer, ate on my computer, worked out on my computer, and then barely slept because I was thinking about my computer. It wasn’t living.”
“I’m sorry,” Bonnie said softly. She thought about reaching out and taking his hand but didn’t. She wasn’t supposed to get attached to the people here.
“Don’t be.” He guided the car around a turn without having to slow down. The car took the turn with graceful ease. “I sold my company, and I haven’t touched a computer for anything other than emailing my mom. It’s fantastic.”
“I’m sure your mom appreciates that,” she said with a chuckle. She looked at the car again. “What company was it?”
He turned and grinned at her, his dark eyes sparkling. “You really want to know?”
“I do now.” Her curiosity piqued. What kind of business could he have had to be able to buy a Ferrari?
“FirmHard Tech.” He said it and then waited for her response to the name.
It sounded familiar. She rolled the name on her tongue for a moment before it hit her where she recognized it. Three months ago, the sale was the only the only thing the news seemed capable of talking about.
“You’re the owner of FirmHard Tech? The one Google bought for one point three billion dollars?” She remembered the newscasters saying how the company was going to bring in even more money for Google, but that the CEO wasn’t part of the purchase price.
“That’s me.” He grinned at her.
“No way,” she said after a moment. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Well, if the Ferrari doesn’t do it for you, feel free to look me up.” He nodded to her phone in her lap. “Dylan Abbott. Two B’s, two T’s.”
She narrowed her eyes but pulled up the search function on her phone and typed in his name. Immediately a list of news reports with his name and FirmHard Tech popped up. She clicked on the first one that had an image.
It was definitely him. His hair was shorter, and he had on glasses, but it was him.
“No way,” she whispered. He laughed.
She held up the photo so she could compare him to it. The face was the same, but he looked older in the photo. He looked tired.
Dylan turned and smiled for her, giving her an even better comparison. There was a light in his eyes now that there wasn’t in the picture. He looked happier now. The person was the same, but yet totally different. She much preferred the current happy Dylan to the exhausted one in the picture.
“I can’t believe you sold it,” she said, putting the phone back in her lap as he turned into a parking lot. “I heard you could have gotten even more.”
“It was eating me alive,” he told her, pulling into a parking space on the edge of the lot next to a big blue spruce. “I hated my life.” His shoulders tensed and the dead look from the picture crept into his face as he remembered. He shook himself, bringing back the smile. “I’m much happier now.”
“I’m glad,” she told him. “But, if you don’t mind me asking, why are you here?”
“I’m here because I’m taking you to dinner,” he teased, pointing to the restaurant behind them. She rolled her eyes.
“You’re a freaking billionaire,” she replied, ignoring his joke. “You could be out on a yacht in Tahiti with female tennis players and lady active-wear models.”
“Did that already. I got bored.” He shrugged. “It wasn’t me. I wasn’t happy.”
“You weren’t happy in Tahiti surrounded by beautiful women catering to your every need?”
He chuckled. “It was fun, don’t get me wrong, but there was no life. There were no connections. I wasn’t making a difference in the world. I was just spending money and getting sunburned.”
“That doesn’t sound terrible,” she told him.
“It was a great vacation, but it wasn’t life.” He looked at her with his dark eyes and ran a hand through his messy black hair, ruffling it up at odd ends. “I wanted to find my passion. I’m still looking for it, but at least at the ranch, I’m making a difference. I’m helping people. I have meaning here.”
Bonnie thought of her own life. She thought of how good it felt to help Tyson today. To have that passion
and reward for making a positive change in the world. A yacht in Tahiti was amazing, but changing a life was forever.
“I can get that,” she said slowly. “But, why not just start your own charity? Isn’t that what billionaires do?”
“Why not just help a friend’s charity that I believe in?” he countered.
“Good point,” she conceded. She put on a pair of sunglasses from her purse. She wasn’t too worried about anyone recognizing her here, but she wasn’t going to be stupid about it either.
He grinned at her and clicked a button, opening up her door for her. She chuckled as he hurried out to offer her his hand to help her out of the low car. It was technology and chivalry all in one.
“A billionaire and a gentleman,” she said, taking his hand in hers. If felt right to touch him. “Two rare creatures. I should go buy a lottery ticket or something.”
“Even if you won, I’d still be richer than you,” he teased, making her laugh.
He shut the car door behind her before putting his hand on the small of her back and guiding her toward the restaurant. It felt good to have his hand on her. She liked him touching her. Not only did it feel good, but she felt safe.
For the first time in weeks, she wasn’t a nervous wreck about being in public. She was still being cautious and watching her surroundings like a hawk, but the anxiety wasn’t there. She wasn’t scared, just on guard. It was an amazing thing, and it was because Dylan was with her.
Chapter 13
Bonnie
He held the restaurant door open for Bonnie like a gentleman. She smiled as she passed him, looking around as she entered. Inside, the restaurant was rustic and adorable. Everything appeared to be made of wood, and there was a friendly warmth to the restaurant. While it didn’t look like much on the outside, the delicious smell of food inside was enough to make her mouth water.
Dylan waved to the bartender and grabbed a pair of menus from the hostess stand before guiding Bonnie to an empty table. She figured he had to be a regular here. There were several full tables, but still plenty of space for the dinner crowd to come in.
“I highly recommend the green chili burger,” Dylan said, handing her a menu once she was seated in her booth. “It’s fantastic. Just the right amount of spicy.”
She grinned and perused the menu. Her stomach rumbled. She was hungry after swimming. Everything on the menu looked good, but she was going to go with his personal recommendation.
“Green chili burger it is,” she announced. “Oh, and of course these cheese curds.”
He raised his eyebrows and set his own menu to the side.
“I heard Chef,” she told him with a shrug. “She said they were good and we should have them.”
He chuckled. “Yup. The best. They taste as good as the ones in Wisconsin. I think they use the same cheese.”
She nodded and perused the menu, just to make sure there wasn’t anything else she wanted. It was comfortable sitting with him.
“So, you gave up the good life to come work on a ranch,” she said after a moment of quiet between them. “How’s it working out for you?”
“Amazing.” He smiled, and it lit up the room. His eyes were so brown they were almost black, but when he smiled, they sparkled like precious black diamonds. “At my old job, I couldn’t trust anyone. Everyone was fake and out to make a name for themselves at any cost. I wasn’t happy.”
“And you’re happy now?” she asked.
He smiled, and the full weight of his gaze landed on her. “I am.”
She wasn’t entirely sure if he meant that he was happy here with her or just in general. Either way, it made her feel like she was blushing.
“What can I get you two to drink?” The waiter saved her from having to ask him what he was happy about.
“Just water for me,” she said quickly.
“Lemonade for me, please,” Dylan told the waiter. He looked at Bonnie. “Get whatever you want. Tonight’s my treat.”
“I can’t,” she said shaking her head. She didn’t want to take advantage of him. Even knowing he was a billionaire, she didn’t want to order more than was necessary. It felt rude.
“I can afford it, I promise,” he said with a smile.
She chuckled. “Water, please. With a lemon.”
The waiter nodded and wrote down the added lemon on his pad of paper. “Are you two ready to order?”
Dylan looked to check with her, and she nodded, so he told the waiter, “I’ll have a green chili burger, medium rare with extra chilies.” He looked over at Bonnie and grinned. “And an order of cheese curds.”
“I’ll have the same,” Bonnie told the waiter, handing him the menu. The waiter quickly made a mark on her paper and smiled before heading off to the kitchen.
“I have to ask you something,” Dylan said, leaning back in his seat.
“Okay...” Bonnie’s shoulders tensed. She wasn’t ready to tell him about the Trio. She wasn’t ready to tell him what her brother saw. She did her best to keep her face steady, but she glanced over to the exit before she could stop herself.
“How did you get Tyson into the water so easily?” he asked. Bonnie let out a small breath. “Elena’s practically had to force him to just put his feet in the water. You had him splashing and halfway to actually swimming in thirty minutes. How’d you do it?”
“I’ve done it before,” she admitted. “I’m a kindergarten teacher. And I used to give swim lessons.”
“I remember you saying that,” he replied, looking interested.
Her chest tightened as she remembered that she wasn’t a teacher anymore. She was on the run. Her brother was a material witness, and she was the threat to get him not to testify.
“I mean, I was,” she said, trying to push the hurt away. “I was a special ed teacher. I worked primarily with autism and sensory kids at my school.”
“I’ve heard of autism, but not sensory kids,” he said. “What’s that?”
“Sensory Processing disorder is very common in kids with autism, but shows up in lots of other kids too. Basically, their brains don’t process sensory information correctly. So, normal sensations, like a scratchy t-shirt tag or a fire engine passing by, are far too intense and can even be painful,” she explained. “Or, the reverse can be true, and they aren’t getting enough sensory info. So, those kids tend to always be moving and searching for more stimulation.”
“Wow.” He thought about it for a moment, digesting her words. “How do you teach someone to deal with that?”
“That’s where therapy comes into play,” she told him. “A lot of what we did in my classroom was working on making the overwhelming sensations less scary. If we could make them fun, that was always the best.”
“Give me an example,” he requested.
She thought for a second. “We play with stuff. I like to make sensory bins where kids can squish and experience sensations. I fill bins with spaghetti, pudding, jello, sand, beads, beans, water beads, and anything else I can think of. Then we just play and make the sensations fun.”
“A tub of jello sounds like fun to me,” he agreed. “Do you have any ideas for Tyson?”
She grinned. “I do.” This was the part of her job that she loved. She loved figuring out what would help an individual child get past a fear. “I’d love to get some water stuff for him. Things like squirt guns and water balloons. Anything that gets him wet and makes water a fun and pleasant sensation. He doesn’t like the way water feels on his face, so the goal would be to make it so much fun that it’s no longer unpleasant to be wet.”
“Does it work?” Dylan asked.
“Depends on the kid,” she admitted. “Each kid needs a different approach, and it takes time. It’s important to remember that their behaviors aren’t naughty or bad. They’re just overwhelmed. It’s hard to un-overwhelm.”
Dylan smiled. “You must love your work.”
She crinkled her brow but smiled. “Why do you say that?”
“You light up w
hen you talk about this,” he told her. “You’re practically glowing, and your whole body is animated.”
Her cheeks instantly heated and she folded her hands on the table.
Dylan reached across the table. “It’s a good thing,” he said. “It’s beautiful. I’m sorry your ex took it away from you.”
“My ex?” Bonnie repeated confused. She caught herself before blowing her story. “Oh, right. My ex.”
She shrugged and quickly tried to think of something to say to make it less awkward. Luckily, the waiter returned then with their drinks. She gulped at her water, grateful for the interruption.
“I guess that you’re pretty over him,” Dylan said, taking a small sip of his lemonade.
She inhaled and took in a lungful of water. She started coughing and sputtering. “What?”
“Your ex,” he repeated. “You sound over him.”
“Right. Right, my ex.” She cleared her throat and set her glass down. “We were officially over when things went south. I thought we’d moved on.”
She’d rehearsed this lie several times, but she hated telling it to Dylan. She didn’t want to lie to him. She wanted to tell him everything, but she didn’t want to put him in that position either. It wasn’t fair to drag him into her issues with them.
“What happened?” he asked, genuine concern in his voice. It made her guilt deepen.
“We broke up. Then, a few weeks ago, I came home and found my house on fire,” she told him. It was sort of close to the truth. She tried to keep her story as close to the truth as possible. It made her less likely to slip up.
“Did you go to the police?” he asked, his dark eyes concerned for her.
“Of course, but there was no definitive proof that I was in danger,” she explained. She remembered her nightmare. “The fire investigator said that I left my book on the stove and it caught fire. It happens.”
“Did you leave a book?” he asked.
“I’d never seen the book before,” she explained. “It was called, ‘You’re Next.’ They also found the remains of the rest of the series in the kitchen. Their titles were ‘Dead Man Walking’ and ‘Dead and Deader.’ They weren’t my books.”