Page 19 of The Love Bus

COLD FEET

“W e’re coming up on the visitor center, and here’s the deal.

” Tay’s voice crackled over the PA system.

“Since we’re running late, we’re going to keep this stop short.

You’ve got twenty minutes— twenty minutes —to stretch your legs, take a bathroom break, and snap your photos of the ‘winter wonderland’ that’s been slowing us down. ”

She paused—a little ominously—before resuming her little speech. “That means you need to be back on this bus, in your seat, and ready to go no later than nine hundred hours. Not nine hundred oh-one. Nine hundred . Period.”

There were a few chuckles from the group, but Tay wasn’t smiling. She leaned into the mic, her voice dropping a notch, in a way that caught everyone’s attention.

“Some of you are probably thinking, ‘She won’t leave without me.’ ” She let out a short humorless laugh.

“But let me tell you something: I’ve been doing this job for twelve years.

Trust me when I say that I have left people.

And not just at a gift shop, folks. I have left people at Mount Rushmore, where they had to hitch a ride with a retired couple in an RV.

I have left people at the Acropolis, where they had to convince a Greek taxi-driver to circle the streets of Athens until they recognized our hotel.

I have left people in Gettysburg, where even though they tried sprinting through a battlefield reenactment, they didn’t make it in time.

” She crossed her arms, making unsettling eye contact with what felt like every single one of us.

“And then there’s the octogenarian who had to bribe one of the park rangers to drive him back to the lodge. In Yellowstone.”

For a moment, I thought I caught a flicker of weariness in her expression, and I found myself wondering what it would be like to have her job.

On the surface, it seemed glamorous—all the travel, seeing new places.

But the reality? Spending your life herding strangers from one tourist spot to the next?

Not glamorous at all.

“So,” Tay said as the bus drew to a halt. “Unless you want to be left stranded on top of this mountain, in a freaking blizzard, I strongly suggest you get back to the bus on time.”

Save for the squealing of the windshield wipers and the gentle swish of Babs’s tracksuit, everyone was still. Tay leaned back slightly, her tone easing into something closer to amused.

“Twenty minutes, folks. Chop chop. Let's go have some fun!”

She clicked off the mic, and after a beat of shocked silence, the bus stirred into action. Passengers shuffled to grab jackets, scarves, and gloves, and the scrape of zippers filled the air.

But I didn’t move.

Instead, my gaze slid toward Noah, who was still leaning back in his seat, his arms folded more loosely now, like he had all the time in the world. Of course, he would be completely unfazed by Tay’s fiery warning.

Our eyes met, and for a moment, the chatter, the movement, even the howling wind outside, faded.

His lips twitched, like he knew exactly what I was thinking—that neither of us really belonged here.

“Tay is joking, right?” Just like that, his mother’s voice broke the spell.

“I wouldn’t test it, Mom.” Noah turned away from me, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I want those recipes before the tour’s over. Especially the clam chowder,” Babs said, gathering her bag up from the floor. “Mine always ends up tasting like I’ve dumped little pieces of rubber in.”

I had completely forgotten that she and Mrs. Grady could have listened in on my little cooking monologue, and it took a second for me to respond. “It sounds like you’re overcooking them,” I said.

“That’s what Morty always said. Now, my banana bread.

That’s where I shine, if I do say so myself.

Maybe we can trade recipes.” Babs pushed those oversized glasses up the bridge of her nose, and I couldn’t help but think that the huge square frames matched her personality perfectly.

Funky, colorful, and a little impertinent.

Marla had twisted around in her seat to face us. “I want a copy too, Luna. Maybe you could email them to us?”

“Of course!”

“I have a better idea!” Josie piped in. “I’ll start one of those Facebook groupies, and we can all post our favorite recipes in there.”

“Maybe Luna can make live videos. Show us how it’s done—just like a real cooking show.” Babs sent me a wink, almost as though she... Had she seen something? Did she know?

She hadn’t said anything to me about it. And…no. Babs definitely would have said something if she recognized me from the cooking show.

Talking myself down, I fumbled with my jacket. On the opposite side of the aisle, Mrs. Grady was shifting in her seat, adjusting her coat with a quick tug.

“Looks like the North Pole out there!” Babs directed her comment to no one in particular while Noah moved into the aisle. He stepped back to let his mother pass and then gestured for Babs and me to go ahead.

As I brushed by him, my arm barely grazing the fabric of his sweater, I vividly recalled the few seconds when I’d bumped into him outside my room last night—how warm and solid he’d felt.

And I might have paused as my entire body seemed to inhale his woodsy scent.

Pine or cedar maybe? Whatever it was, it lingered in the small space between us.

And in me.

“It’s only snow,” a voice joked from behind us, and I realized I was holding everyone up.

I moved forward, Babs hot on my heels, and then practically stumbled down the steps and out the door.

Oh! Oh!

“Oh!”

Icy slush engulfed my practically bare feet, and my gasp was as much for my poor sandals as it was a response to the cold. I had no choice but to step away from the door, in the squishy mixture of snow and mud, getting blasted by wind and snow for my trouble.

“But…it’s practically June!” I complained.

Don’t get me wrong. I grew up in Rhode Island, so I’m no stranger to snow. But this? It was just wrong. I tugged my jacket tighter around me, paralyzed by my shock as I watched the rest of the group shuffle toward the visitor center.

Most of them were wearing either sturdy walking shoes or hiking boots.

And jeans.

Of course, they were.

“You’re wasting time, Grumpy Girl,” Noah said from behind me, his voice dancing with that calm amusement which, in that moment, should have been infuriating.

So…why wasn’t it?

I met his gaze with a frown. “Maybe I’ll skip this stop.” I lifted one foot and then the other, cringing. “Just get back on the bus…”

But Noah Grady was shaking his head, in a half-joking I-told-you-so kind of way. “There are at least two hours before the next stop,” he pointed out.

“But my toes will literally fall off.” Did I sound a little whiny? Maybe? But it was really cold.

Noah looked around, scanning the snow-covered path and the small group trudging through it. When his eyes landed on me again, I squirmed.

“Do you want to go in?” he asked.

Would I survive traipsing through the snow practically barefoot?

Yes. Would I survive using the facilities on the bus?

Not so sure about that. Also…I could really use a cup of coffee or—no, hot tea would be even better.

After a moment of shuffling awkwardly, I bit my bottom lip before admitting, “Well, yeah…”

Before I could say more, Noah had crouched in front of me and, one swift motion, tossed me over his shoulder.

“Whuh—hey!” I squeaked, my voice half smothered by the back of his jacket. “What are you doing?”

“Getting you to the visitor center,” he said, as if this were the most reasonable solution in the world.

The snow crunched under his boots as he started walking.

“Oh my God,” I grunted. “Seriously?” Was this worse than when he’d shoved my bag into the overhead compartment on the plane without asking? Or when I thought he’d been suggesting I needed a drink to calm down?

Or…

Was it kind of…hot?

I blinked, and while gravity forced about half my blood into my head, I found myself staring right at his butt. Shapely, tight, and firm. Perfect, actually. Maybe forearms weren’t the only thing that caught my attention where guys were concerned.

“You don’t have to do this,” I muttered in a feeble protest.

“I know,” he replied, and I could feel his voice rumbling. It was the same voice that had irritated me from the moment I met him, the one that seemed to make light of everything. But now, somehow, it wasn’t infuriating at all. If anything, it was…oddly soothing?

And fine, maybe this whole knight in shining armor/caveman thing was kind of turning me on.

“Are you always like this?”

“A problem solver? Helpful?” he asked, his tone light, amused. “Maybe.”

So, he was just being…a nice guy? Could that be the sole reason he’d literally carry me across a slushy parking lot?

He wasn’t flirting with me…was he?

I frowned, staring at the back of his jeans, totally not immune to the shifting muscles beneath them.

It had been so long since anyone had flirted with me—that I’d noticed, anyway—that I didn’t trust myself to know if it was happening.

But…

Was it possible that Dr. Noah Grady was flirting with me?

He brooded. He smirked. He made sarcastic remarks about my best pair of sandals. He wasn’t the kind of guy to charm someone, at least not intentionally.

No, he couldn’t be flirting with me—not after my fabulous first impression I’d made on the plane.

And yet…

One of his hands shifted along the back of my thigh, and my pulse, already erratic from the cold, seemed to spike.

“You’re too quiet,” he said. “Making me nervous.” He wasn’t even winded, carrying me like it was nothing, like I was nothing more than a sack of…potatoes? Flour?

I let out a small grunt, adjusting my arms awkwardly as they hung in front of me. “That’s because,” I said, my voice slightly muffled, “hanging upside down isn’t exactly conducive to conversation.”

“Huh,” was all he said.

“I mean, do you enjoy conversing with my backside?” Honestly, I don’t know why I said that.

But his steps didn’t even falter. “Tay did say the view was good up here,” he answered in a tone so dry I almost missed the teasing edge.

I’m sure my face was beet red by now.

Because of…you know. Gravity.

“I wouldn’t know.” I bit my lip. At least I didn’t have to try hiding the goofy grin on my face.

Unable to twist around, I couldn’t see where we were going, so I was surprised when the sound of the howling wind faded away and a large glass door swung closed behind us.

The shift was instant, as the cold was immediately replaced by the comforting heat of the climate-controlled visitor center.

A few steps inside, Noah didn’t make a show of it, but just bent forward, lowering me carefully to the floor. When I swayed slightly as the blood rushed out of my head, he steadied me with a hand on my arm before stepping back.

And that’s when I noticed that every person in the vicinity was staring. Conversations had stopped, and all eyes seemed to be on me—on us?

“Uh, thanks for the lift,” I muttered, my voice small.

“My pleasure.” He looked far too pleased with himself. And then, as if the moment hadn’t been mortifying enough, he added, “Find me when you need a ride back to the bus.”

Then he turned and walked away, leaving me standing there.

Stunned, but in a good way.

It wasn’t that he’d just carried me through a blizzard, all the way from the bus, or even the fact that he’d done it so easily.

It was the way he carried himself. Confident, steady, and… Wow.

Yeah. No.

He wasn’t trying to charm me. At least, I didn’t think he was. But that only made it more confusing.