Page 17 of The Love Bus

BEEFCAKE AND SUMMERTIME SNOW

B y seven the next morning, our bus, which oddly enough was beginning to feel like home, slowly pulled away from the historic hotel. Unlike the gorgeous day before, the sky was low and gray, muting the landscape as we left the small town known as the “Gateway to the Rockies.”

The passengers around me were buzzing with conversation, their paper coffee cups steaming as they laughed and swapped stories about everyone’s ghostly encounters.

“I swear, I heard children laughing in our room.” Eddie had twisted around, her eyes wide as she gripped Ed’s arm. He nodded along, though he looked more amused than concerned. “And then my phone battery went from sixty percent to zero!”

“I caught three orbs on my camera,” Josie chimed in, holding up her phone proudly.

“We heard footsteps outside our door last night,” Denise piped up. “But when we looked, the hallway was completely empty!”

“Are you sure it wasn’t just the hotel staff?” Babs asked. “I couldn’t sleep after that tour, so I ordered another piece of cheesecake from room service, and that little lady? She was in and out in a flash.”

“Could have been, I suppose,” Patty said. “But Denny heard voices.”

“Maybe there was some romance in the air.” Eddie had turned around to face me, the look in her eyes distinctively mischievous. “You’re young and single. Did you by chance order up a side of beefcake?”

Laughter rippled through the group again, and without meaning to, my eyes flicked across the aisle—right to Noah.

He was already watching me, his expression unreadable as usual. But then, the corner of his mouth tipped up. Just slightly.

It wasn’t the uncomfortable sort of moment we might’ve had yesterday. It felt different. Lighter. Like he and I were in on a joke.

I found myself smiling back before I could think better of it, and then I just…played along...

“Beefcake was eighty-sixed,” I said, deadpan. “Unfortunately.”

“That’s because…” Ed half stood out of his seat, sort of…pounding his chest. “I’m already spoken for.”

Eddie yanked him down and then swatted at him like a cat. “Reoowww,”

Holy ravioli . That image was going to haunt me more than Room 401.

The laughter started up again, and while everyone’s attention shifted to something Josie was showing on her phone, I snuck another glance toward Noah.

He was leaning back in his seat now, arms crossed, legs stretched into the aisle. Still watching me, but with a quiet curiosity, like he hadn’t quite figured me out.

And, okay, maybe my chest fluttered a little.

Or maybe I’d had too much coffee. Hard to say.

“Did you sleep okay?” I finally asked, needing to break this oddly intimate silence.

“Yeah, what about you? No more ghosts, I hope?”

“Haha,” I said flatly.

“Just checking.” He leaned back in his seat again.

Meanwhile, Josie was passing her phone around so that all of us could get a good look at her pictures from the night before. With a quick glance, Noah handed it off to his mother.

“You know,” Mrs. Grady’s voice cut through the murmurs around us. “Orbs are just dust particles reflecting light.” She might just as well have thrown cold water on those women. Both Josie and Marla, who’d twisted around in their seats, exchanged a look.

“Oh, come on, Christine,” Patty said finally. “Don’t ruin our fun.” Her tone was light but also pointed.

Oblivious to the awkwardness she’d caused, or maybe she just didn’t care, Mrs. Grady shook her head and doubled down. “I’m just saying. If you’re going to call it paranormal, rule out the obvious first.”

Babs—peacekeeper Babs—leaned across me with a warm smile. “Christine does have a point, but who’s to say dust can’t be a little spooky too?” Her teasing tone was oddly calming.

I reached over and gave Babs’s arm a quick, grateful squeeze.

As far as seatmates went, I could have done worse, to be sure.

When we boarded, Babs had offered me the window seat today—but I’d seen the fun she had taking pictures. According to the WonderWorld Tours itinerary, we’d be driving along Trail Ridge Road today, the highest paved road in the entire freaking world.

She was here by choice. I was here by accident.

And honestly? With Joey behind the wheel, not looking out might be the better option.

Because we were going up. Up, up, up.

As the bus began its ascent, the engine growled and downshifted to manage the climb. I kept my eyes on the seat in front of me, only occasionally sneaking a glance at the window.

Not that I was missing much.

The clouds had dropped low over the mountains, softening everything in a wash of gray.

For all I knew, we were climbing straight into the sky.

I shifted in my seat and pulled my jacket tighter around me. The cotton of my T-shirt, pink today, and my other patchwork skirt, weren’t quite enough to keep the chill away.

When the bus rounded another curve, I leaned back.

“You doing okay, hon?” Babs asked, her tone warm and calm.

I nodded quickly. “Yeah, fine. Just…not a fan of heights, I guess.”

She patted my arm. “Don’t you worry. Remember, Joey’s been doing this for three whole years.” Her voice lilted on the word three , like that was supposed to be reassuring.

I slid my hilarious seatmate a sideways glance, catching the way her eyes were twinkling like this was some kind of amusement park ride.

This woman… She was seriously priceless.

The bus lurched slightly as Tay’s voice over the PA caught everyone’s attention.

“This is Trail Ridge Road, folks, completed in 1933, it spans forty-eight miles through Rocky Mountain National Park, and is the highest continuous paved road in the United States, reaching an elevation of twelve thousand one hundred and eighty three feet.”

Some quick math got me to two miles ? Above sea level ? That was…crazy.

Tay gestured toward the windows. “We'll cross the Continental Divide at Milner Pass, where—theoretically—water flows either east toward the Atlantic or west toward the Pacific.

Keep an eye out for wildlife; it's common to spot elk, moose, bighorn sheep, and marmots along this route, but with this snow, they might be hiding…”

Wait. Did she say snow ?

I craned my neck toward the opposite side of the bus, toward Noah and his mom’s window, and yep, sure enough, fat white flakes were drifting down like this was December and not...almost June.

“That can’t be right,” I murmured. “It’s the end of May!”

“In about an hour,” Tay continued, completely unaware that one of her passengers was quietly freaking out.

“We’ll be making our first stop of the day at the Alpine Visitor Center.

It’s the highest visitor center in the National Park System and offers exhibits, restrooms, and stunning views.

If these clouds clear out, you’ll definitely want to take pictures while we’re there. ”

“Did you even read the itinerary before you came?” Noah asked. The question would have irked me if his tone had been mocking, but it wasn’t. It was just…teasing.

“Of course.” I bit my lip. “Mostly.”

“Mostly.” He dipped his chin.

I glanced out the window. “But it’s summer, and this is…the South west Bucket List Tour…”

“Still winter at this altitude.” He locked his stare with mine again, which was a rather distracting thing for him to do. I may have zoned out for a second, trying to decide if his eyes were more blue or gray.

I blinked. “I didn’t think about that.”

His gaze slid down to my patchwork skirt. “Just a little unprepared, eh?” His lips quirked up in a faint smirk, sending another quick but meaningful glance at my legs. And my bare feet in my favorite leather sandals.

“Is something wrong with my outfit?”

His eyes opened wide, all innocence. “No. Not at all.”

I crossed my legs and then suddenly remembered how I’d looked last night. My shorty pajamas. My very unshaved legs.

Heat creeping up my neck, I turned back toward the window. If he was such a travel expert, why wasn’t he just hiking over these mountains? Why come on a tour meant for people twice our age?

“I’m just saying…” He leaned back in his seat. “You might want to rethink those sandals. This isn’t exactly beach weather.”

Who said anything about the beach?

I instinctively crossed my legs. These weren’t some cheap flip-flops I’d picked up in the bargain bin at Target.

They were K. Jacques—handmade leather, strappy, and possibly the most perfect sandals in the known universe.

I’d found them at a thrift store in Newport nearly five years ago, and almost wept when I saw the label.

They’d already lived a full, stylish life before me, and yet here they were, still going strong. They had personality. Soul. History.

I gave the sandals an affectionate glance. I wasn’t saying they were my emotional support shoes…but I wasn’t not saying that either.

“They’re vintage,” I said, totally offended. “And I’ll be fine.”

“Of course you will.” But one of his brows lifted—just slightly.

The look should’ve annoyed me. Instead, it sent my brain down a completely different path.

Because he had definitely been looking at my legs. Which, for the record, I had shaved this morning.

So it would be smooth if someone’s hands happened to trail up my calf…

I straightened in my seat and blinked hard, like that might reset the entire train of thought. He’d only commented on my footwear because of the weather.

“I’ll be fine,” I said firmly, right before a shiver betrayed me.

The heaters were definitely on, but the bus still felt cold.

Noah’s gaze met mine and for a second, he looked like he was about to laugh. But then he didn’t.

And in that moment, I could almost feel the warmth of his cozy-looking sweater, sleeves rolled up to his elbows over what looked like a thermal shirt.

I had to fight the urge to cross the aisle, climb onto his lap, and cuddle.

Something in me was obviously glitching.

I sniffed. “I’ll be fine.” Had I said that already?

Reaching across the aisle, his hand landed on mine. It should have felt awkward.

Instead, it felt…comforting.

Warm.

Strong.