Page 13 of The Love Bus

Noah shrugged. “I didn’t think boomers even liked social media.”

I almost laughed. If only he knew. Leo and Luna’s Lavish Lunches had racked up a ridiculous number of followers—most of them over sixty and terrifyingly engaged. Those people didn’t just watch. They commented. They shared. They had opinions. And suddenly, I realized what I’d done.

I’d accepted several friend requests from people on this trip today.

If even one of them so much as browsed my feed, it wouldn’t take long before someone stumbled onto The Incident . That last horrible episode.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

A flush crawled up my neck as I reached for the breadbasket, my fingers suddenly shaky and weirdly detached. Of course, I bumped my water glass.

It tipped onto the tablecloth with a soft thunk, and then all I could do was watch as the ice water crept forward...streaming right into Noah’s lap.

Wincing, I grabbed the nearest napkin. It was too late to help the table, so instinctively, I began dabbing at Noah’s lap. At the same time, he reached down to do the same, and in an instant, our hands were fumbling under the table, brushing and wiping the damp fabric of his pants.

His thighs felt as hard as they looked. The heat of his skin radiated through the material. It was just water, just an accident, but suddenly, I was very aware of exactly where I was touching him.

My hands shot back like I’d touched a live wire. I risked a glance up, and sure enough, the entire table was watching.

An uncomfortable silence—for me anyway—stretched, until Babs, who was looking far too entertained, mercifully cut through it.

“Noah, dear,” she said breezily. “Do you enjoy being a doctor?”

Noah glanced over at her, clearly still a little stunned. “Uh. Yeah. It’s…a job.”

I couldn’t look at him. But when my gaze landed on his mother instead, seated beside him, I quickly looked away again.

If looks could kill, I’d be a goner.

But I would really be a goner if one of them looked up my Facebook profile. I needed to disconnect my page from the show.

I’d be okay. Just needed to do that as soon as dinner was over.

“I’ll bet you make a pretty penny, Dr. Noah,” Roger chimed in. “My quack barely takes two minutes to listen to the old ticker.” The older man complained as he poured a river of ranch dressing onto his salad. “He charges my insurance a fortune, and all he does is prescribe a bunch of pills?—”

Helen elbowed him. “Roger.”

“What?” he muttered, but he let it go.

The exchange stirred ghosts of old memories—faint echoes of my parents,

Eddie was nodding. “Ed pops his blood pressure pills like they’re Tic Tacs.”

I hadn’t even realized Dad was taking pills for his heart. Because no one had told me.

“I do not pop them like Tic Tacs,” Ed huffed.

“Oh, please,” Eddie shot back. “You took one before we left this morning, and then I caught you sneaking another before lunch.”

“That’s because I’m on my honeymoon.” He sent Eddie a sly wink.

Her eyes widened, and she turned bright red. “Not the blue ones!”

The group erupted into laughter, and I allowed myself a slow, relieved breath… Even if the subject matter was TMI. But, hearing their concerns, I was pretty sure these people were not going to look me up on Facebook.

Noah, who was still trying to dry himself off, had glanced up at Ed with mild alarm. “You really need to follow the instructions on those, Ed.”

“Yeah, yeah…” Ed trailed off.

“That reminds me.” Denise turned to Patty. “I scheduled us both to get our boobs squished the week we get back.” And then back to the group. “The women in Patty’s family are predisposed.”

“Denny.” Patty scowled. “No need to share everything.”

“Josie would probably announce it on the Facebook.” Marla laughed. “Pictures and everything.”

Her sister didn’t seem offended at all. Instead, she added, seriously, “I think that would be educational. Maybe a video?”

A few murmurs of quiet agreement followed, with perhaps, a touch of disapproval.

“I, for one, think being a doctor would be exciting,” Babs said, reaching over me to hand Noah another napkin.

Noah accepted it with a nod, blotting at his lap. “Exciting isn’t a good thing in the ER.”

But he didn’t say it was rewarding or challenging either.

Babs didn’t pick up on his subtle withdrawal. “How long have you been practicing?”

“Eight years.”

I’d assumed Noah would be the type to talk about his job with confidence, maybe even a little arrogance, but there was none of that.

“When I went in for my gallbladder, my doctor said it was so inflamed, he wanted to frame the scans and hang them in his office.” Josie’s announcement made me breathe another sigh of relief—this one for Noah though.

Marla then jumped in with a painfully detailed description of her knee replacement, while Roger and Ed compared notes on their blood pressure meds, debating which ones had the worst side effects.

Noah didn’t add anything more. He just sat back, letting the conversation swirl around him, and when dessert arrived, he abruptly excused himself.

I nudged my fork through the cheesecake, appetite gone, my whole body humming with that drained, overcooked feeling. Was it really just this morning that we’d left Denver?

What a day.

And yet somehow, the night wasn’t over.

We still had the ghost tour.