Page 42 of The Love Bus

HAIRPIN TURNS AND TUNNELS

I handed off my hard hat and stepped into the sun, blinking as my eyes adjusted. The air outside was bright and dry, the sky that Colorado blue over the craggy ridge. Laughter floated over from the others as they made their way toward the gift shop.

Before I could follow, my phone rang.

Ashley.

“Hey,” I answered, a little out of breath as I stepped away from the group. “What’s up?” So far, I’d been the one calling her. “Is Mom okay?” I asked.

“She’s fine. Still pushing her limits, but you know Mom…” My sister’s answer let my heart slow down. I mean, I wasn’t worried, but…

“And Max and Blakey?”

“They’re good. We’re all good here. I tried calling earlier but it went straight to voicemail.”

“Probably because I was underground,” I said, glancing down at the jacket still draped around my shoulders. “We toured a mine this morning. It was actually kind of awesome. Also freezing.”

Ashley chuckled softly. “So, what—you went mining for gold?”

“No, but…” I hesitated. “Noah gave me his jacket.”

“The hot doctor guy?”

For a few seconds, Ashley didn’t say anything. But I could feel the shift on the line—like we both knew exactly what that meant.

“Yeah.” I grinned. “Just—casually walked over and dropped it over my shoulders. Like something out of a movie. It’s way too big, and the tour’s over, but I haven’t taken it off yet.”

Another pause.

“I know that’s not why you called,” I added, “and I swear I’m not ignoring the rest of my life, but… I’m actually having fun, Ash.”

“I can tell,” she said, but then added, “Did you ever listen to Leo’s messages?”

“Nope.”

“The show?—”

“I’m on vacation.” My voice was firmer now. “And you were the one who told me to get away from Newport and…everything.”

“Right.”

“He’s just so sweet, Ashley,” I said, laughing a little.

“And…we’re flirting. A lot. But also—I’m getting to know the others too.

Patty and Denise—they’re this lesbian couple that lets people think they’re just friends—anyway, they pulled me aside during the tour to ask about commercial kitchens.

They want to open a B-n-B in Florida and were grilling me for tips.

Honestly? It felt good to talk about cooking without Leo standing over my shoulder. ”

“So you’re making friends.”

“Kind of,” I said. “But…these places are pretty cool. We’re in Ouray this morning.

In this mine, they served an old miner’s breakfast underground.

It was surprisingly great!” The whole time I kept catching Noah’s eye from across the table, but my sister didn’t need to know everything .

“Anyway, I’m just trying to…live in the moment

Ashley didn’t say anything for a moment.

“I know I’ll have to face it all later.” I added. “But...can it wait?”

“Yeah. It can wait.”

“Okay.” I let out a breath. “Don’t worry, all right? I’m doing okay. Better than okay.”

“I’m glad you’re having fun,” she said softly. “Really.”

We said our quick goodbyes—kisses for my nephews, a promise to call again soon—and I stepped away from the gift shop, gravel crunching underfoot as I made my way to the bus. My new sandals, surprisingly, held up better than most sneakers.

It was a small thing. But still, satisfying.

“How was it?” Joey asked as I climbed the steps.

“It was cool. You should’ve come.”

He gave a half-shrug. “Next time.” Then turned back to what he’d been reading—something about the bus, from the looks of it.

And since he seemed a little stressed, I gave him a small wave and headed to my seat. I settled in and stared out the window, feeling oddly peaceful as I watched as the others trickle out of the souvenir shop and make their way back.

Could I help it if a few butterflies fluttered when Noah climbed back on the bus? He was right behind Babs and Mrs. Grady, who…I noticed, was moving a little slower than she had earlier this morning, as if her body was resisting the pace of the schedule, but that she’d pushed through anyway.

Was Mrs. Grady a little clingy, a little needy? Absolutely. Compared to fighting breast cancer though, my issues— The Incident , the breakup, the whole spiral of self-doubt—felt pretty small.

And from what Noah said, he was, in fact, contemplating changes with his job, but he and his ex were not getting back together.

So maybe I’d give his mom a pass.

And Noah… Noah was here because she’d asked him to be.

That mattered.

How could I not crush on this guy?

Ever since he came to my room the night I got sick—since the Gatorade and the crackers and the cool cloth—things between the two of us had shifted.

The texting. The way I’d caught him checking me out more than once.

And now his coat…

Maybe it was reckless of me to entertain anything deeper than some camaraderie and a little casual flirting, but hey, I was having fun. For the first time in way too long, I was actually enjoying myself.

Noah’s mom eased into her seat across the aisle, and Babs settled in beside her with a little groan of contentment.

“Those miners. I don’t know how they did it,” Babs said, “Living their lives underground.”

Then Noah was standing above me, his gaze dropping to his jacket, then to my bare legs, and then back up to my face.

And that stare? It sent a different kind of shiver shooting through me—one that made me squeeze my thighs together.

“Hey,” I said, because my brain seemed to have short-circuited.

“Hey.” He dropped into his seat.

As everyone settled back into The Love Bus —Tay’s nickname was apparently sticking—the vibe had shifted. Everyone seemed perkier now, less groany and hungover, more animated as they recounted the morning’s adventure.

I was partially convinced it was this town itself—Ouray, cradled in a box canyon and surrounded by peaks that didn’t just rise but sliced into the sky. It was called America’s Little Switzerland, and I could see why. It was rugged, isolated, but also…charming.

Noah’s arm brushed mine, and while I searched my brain for something, anything witty and clever to say, I kind of lost track of the scenery. That was, until the road curved sharply, and the bus shifted gears with a heavy growl.

In what couldn’t have been more than a mile, the view outside had totally transformed, Main Street giving way to dramatic rock faces on one side, and sheer drop-offs on the other.

Up ahead, the road narrowed, carved out of the side of the mountain with hardly any room to spare. There was no shoulder, and as we climbed, the only thing separating us from the valley below was, well...air.

My stomach swooped unpleasantly as we worked our way around a tight turn.

Tay’s voice popped over the speaker, cheerful as ever. “Alright, buckle up, my brave and beautiful travelers. In case you haven’t noticed already, this next stretch is not for the faint of heart!”

A few nervous chuckles rippled around us.

“We are officially climbing into the heart of the San Juan Mountains—a subrange of the mighty Rockies. And this road? We’re on the Million Dollar Highway. Welcome.”

Someone behind us muttered “God help us” under their breath.

“Wasn’t this road featured on that show, World’s Most Dangerous Roads ?” Eddie called out.

“I think it’s officially number two.” Tay almost seemed proud of this.

It was a statistic I really didn’t want to hear.

Noah’s hand closed around mine without a word, and for a second, I didn’t know what I was more aware of—the terrifying nothingness outside the window, or the feel of his fingers laced with mine.

“The stretch we’re on today—US Route 550—was originally built in the 1880s to connect Ouray and Silverton.

Right now, we’re climbing toward Red Mountain Pass, which tops out at eleven thousand feet above sea level.

Higher than Aspen, but not as high as we were a few days ago.

Fun fact, though, up here they get an average of three hundred sixty inches of snow per year.

That’s thirty feet, for anyone doing the math. ”

More murmurs.

“Is it open in the winter?” Denise called out.

“It is! Thanks to some of the most fearless snowplow drivers in the world. No guardrails, tight switchbacks, sheer drops, and if you're looking out the windows on the left right now—yep, that’s a six hundred-foot drop. Don’t worry, though.

Joey’s a pro. He’s got nerves of steel and hands steadier than a surgeon. Right, Joey?”

“Absolutely!” From our seat, I could see our driver punch a fist in the air.

“Both hands on the wheel, buddy,” Tay reminded him.

“Just up ahead,” Tay continued, “we’ve got a tunnel designed as an avalanche shelter. It’s there to protect you from falling snow and rock, which is still very much a thing this time of year. You’ll see the runoff—those little streams crossing the road? That’s the spring melt from up top.”

The bus tilted ever so slightly as we rounded another curve.

Noah leaned in, his voice low but light. “Should we take a selfie?”

I blinked at him. “What?”

“For your sister. Show her how brave you are.”

He was distracting me on purpose. And, once again, it was working.

“I’ll send one to my cat,” he added, his thumb lightly brushing my knuckles.

A surprised half-laugh escaped me. “If I move to get my phone, we might slide right off this mountain.”

Still, the idea of Noah sending selfies to a cat made my chest loosen, my shoulders drop.

“I can’t believe you have a cat.”

“What? I don’t strike you as a cat person?” He grinned.

“Not exactly.” I gave him a once-over. “You seem more like a big-dog guy. A lab or a husky. The kind of dog you could hike with.”

He tilted his head in consideration.

“But,” I added quickly, “I guess crazy work hours would make that tough.”

I meant it casually, but something in his expression shifted—just a flicker—and I immediately wished I hadn’t said anything.

“I’d be fine with either,” I rushed to say, trying to bring the mood back up. “Dog or cat. I’ve actually been thinking I might check out the local shelters when I get home.”