The Billionaire Book Club

I wait for a sassy rebuttal. A feisty challenge to my request.

But it doesn’t come.

Instead, Ruby just stands there, her perfect little body still pressed to mine, my lips still near her ear, and she simply enjoys the view.

Something makes my chest expand, and I silently wonder if it’s all the fresh lake air affecting my lungs in a good way.

But my mind pipes up with its own rebuttal. The only thing affecting you is her.

Ruby

My knee bounces and my hands sweat while I watch Cap and my parents chat at the concession stand at Oswego Speedway from our seats in the stands. Mark is used to caring for his girls, Connie couldn’t decide what she wanted, and Cap insisted on treating. As someone had to stay here to save our seats, I’m the only one left behind.

And to be honest, I don’t really mind.

I’ve been a complete wreck since Cap pressed his hard body close to mine and whispered the most unexpected words I’ve ever heard into my ear.

I’ve spent so much of my time with him trying to convince myself not to like him, it never even occurred to me he’d actually think I don’t.

Am I truly that good of an actress?

That he can’t tell how hard I’ve been fighting myself—fighting the pull of him?

With my mother leading the group and my dad’s and Cap’s arms absolutely loaded with food, they turn to head back toward me, and I jerk my eyes away to look down at the track.

There isn’t actually anything going on at the moment—we’re in between two different styles of cars’ races—but I’d just about go out there on my hands and knees to count the grains of dirt right now if it meant I didn’t have to make eye contact with the center of all of my recent fantasies.

When Cap settles onto the bleachers next to me, his thigh pressing exquisitely against mine, he doesn’t waste any time letting me know he’s onto me.

“Really interesting dirt out there, huh? Very dirt-like. I particularly like its dirty color.”

I smile, just a small release of tension letting go and flying off into the wind. “Shut up.”

He chuckles. “You’re staring so hard at nothing, I almost thought I’d lost all of my senses. Like, are the cars actually running, and I can no longer hear or see them?”

“I said shut up!” I snap playfully, bumping my shoulder into his with enough strength that both of us sway to the side.

My parents settle in on the other side of me and start sorting their haul. “You got a chili dog?” my mom shrieks unexpectedly. “Mark!”

“You were over there with me, Con. Jesus. Didn’t you see me ordering it?”

“Obviously, I didn’t. What about your diverticulitis?”

I drop my head into my hands as Cap chuckles beside me. “I got you some fries… Any digestive illness I need to know about for you?”

I shake my head and bite my lip as I smile. “No. None to speak of so far.”

“Excellent.” He passes me the fries, and the ketchup is squirted in a glob in the corner just how I like it. It’s a weird thing. A tiny thing in the grand scheme of things, but I’m so glad he’s not one of those people who squirts it all over the place in some weird swirl. It makes it impossible to control the ketchup-to-fry ratio, and I hate that.

It’s not something I’ve explicitly outlined in my living will or anything, but if you’re going to start serving me fries with the swirled ketchup, you might as well just pull the plug.

I aim a smile of gratitude in Cap’s direction, and he catches my eyes and holds them.

The caramel is melty and soft, and quite frankly, full of chest-seizing, heart-warming, life-changing affection.

“I think this is the first time you’ve ever really smiled at me,” he says softly, and my stomach flips over.

“No,” I refute. “I’ve definitely smiled at you before.” I shake my head and shove his knee, but he’s not done.

“Not like this, Ruby. Not like this.”

Butterflies dance around my heart like the mice in Cinderella, and I have to take a deep breath to steel against mounting him like a rutting buck right here.

Thankfully, the cars start to make their way out onto the oval, lining up in two straight rows and circling the track at a completely respectable speed. Like, I’d totally drive that fast through a residential area.

I lean over to Cap so he can hear me over the engine noise while I speak. “That’s it? I really thought they’d go faster.”

He laughs uproariously. “They will. This is just a pace lap while they get lined up. The race didn’t start yet.”

“Oh.” I blush.

“Ruby never really has understood sports,” my dad interjects from the other side of me, and I startle at his voice.