Page 43 of The Love Bus

Home. The idea of going back to the townhouse wasn’t as comfortable as it used to be. I was going to have to find somewhere else. Also, a new job.

But we weren’t talking about that now. Keep it fun, Luna. Flirty. Normal .

Why was that suddenly so difficult?

Time to pivot. “I think Babs has officially adopted your mom.”

Noah chuckled. Low, warm. “Yeah. I noticed. It’s good for her, though. Nice to see her talk to someone who isn’t obsessed with cap rates and commercial square footage.”

I smiled. “You’ve never mentioned your dad. Is he?—?”

“Never met the guy.” His response came fast, quiet. “Far back as I can remember, it’s just been the two of us.”

I nodded, letting that settle. “That takes a lot. Raising a kid alone.” It struck me that Gran had raised my mom on her own. It wasn’t something either of them had ever really talked about.

“My mom’s pretty badass .” He grinned a little. “I mean, she got a little help—neighbors, mostly. She studied for her real estate license at night and worked in an office during the day. Just…climbed. Built her whole career from the ground up.”

From what I’d learned, that career now included one of Boston’s top real estate offices.

His voice held admiration. But also…worry. Maybe even a hint of weariness.

“She doesn’t really know how to stop. Still calls the office every morning. Even out here, she’s signed two big commercial listings,” he said with a half-smile. “When she wants something, she digs in. Doesn’t let go.”

I looked at him then—really looked. He wasn’t the kind of man who coasted. Everything about him read capable, steady, and driven.

“Are you thinking about work?” I asked, even though I kind of already knew.

And the way he hesitated—just for a second—landed harder than I expected. Because I recognized it.

That tug of guilt for avoiding…things. The instinct to delay whatever was waiting.

Had I just started doing that on this vacation? Or had I been doing it for months?

Years?

His brows drew together slightly. “Trying not to.”

“Last night, on the way to the winery…” I spoke slowly, cautiously. “Your mom said work took up most of your time. From what she said, it sounds like you’ve been running on fumes for a while.” So much for keeping things flirty and light.

He didn’t speak right away. His jaw ticced. His gaze dropped to the floor, like he was weighing something.

“Yeah,” he said finally. “Maybe.”

A thick silence fell between us.

Then: “ Partly . Besides the unavoidable…losses.” His voice seemed to catch.

“We’re short-staffed. Nurses burning out.

Residents quitting. Endless paperwork. Half the time it feels like I’m fighting insurance companies harder than I’m fighting for patients.

” He glanced at me then, the weight of it all visible in his eyes.

“For some reason, I thought things would get better once I became an attending. Instead, it’s only gotten worse. ”

The unavoidable losses, he’d said. I wanted to ask about those.

Instead, I murmured, “Is it worth it?”

His eyes held mine for a moment before drifting away again. “It has to be,” he said. Quietly.

But it didn’t sound like conviction.

It sounded like someone who’d already asked himself that question a thousand times.

His fingers fidgeted slightly with the seam of his jeans.

I shifted in my seat. And then I remembered something my gran did whenever I complained about school—not that this was even close to being the same, but…

“What do you love about it, though?” I asked. “There has to be something.”

Noah’s lips twitched faintly. “Yeah.” A breath escaped him. “There’s a moment, when it’s just chaos—blood, shouting, monitors—and everyone’s looking around, needing someone to do something.” He glanced over, his voice low. Steady. “And I’m that person. I know what to do.”

I didn’t move. Didn’t breathe.

“All the training, the rotations, the hours I went without sleeping, they just…come together. I can put a line in someone’s neck, order the right meds, shock a heart back into rhythm. Sometimes I walk out of the trauma bay, and when everything actually works, I think: I brought someone back.”

His expression didn’t change much. But the weight in his voice did.

“I don’t think most people ever get to know what that feels like.”

I swallowed.

No flippant comeback sprang to mind.

Only awe.

“So…it is worth it?” I asked quietly. Because, of course, I realized, everything doesn’t work all the time.

A beat passed. Then he gave the faintest nod.

“Yeah,” he said. “That part is.”

But then, holding my gaze, he tilted his head. “What about you? Have you been thinking about what you’ll do when you get home?”

I blinked at the sudden change of subject. Was he asking about the breakup? My job?

My life?

“Working on it, you know?” I said, swallowing around something thick in my throat. “Still figuring things out.”

There, safe enough, right?

“You will.” The confidence in his voice kind of shook me.

“How can you know that?”

“How can you not?”

I couldn’t stop looking at him—his eyes, his mouth, the slope of his jaw.

Did I mention his mouth?

He hesitated. Then, softer: “I mean, look at you.”

My breath caught.

“Damn, Luna. You’re filled with more warmth than you know what to do with. And your honesty, it’s just raw. Genuine. That’s rare.” His voice dropped slightly. “And brave. And yeah...”

His eyes didn’t waver.

“You must know you’re beautiful.”

No one.

No one had ever called me beautiful.

Not like that.

Forgetting that we were sitting on a bus surrounded by people, and that that bus was teetering on the side of a mountain, I licked my lips, willing him to lean forward?—

For half a second, it felt like the world narrowed to this one moment. One breath.

Then the bus jolted hard, lurching over a rut or a rock or maybe just a cruel twist of fate.

A collective gasp went up.

“You okay up there, Joe?” Ed called out.

“Don’t distract him,” Mrs. Grady snapped.

The spell shattered.

Noah and I both turned toward her voice at the same time.

The bus ride evened out, but the moment was gone.

Noah winced. “My mom really overshared last night, didn’t she?”

“She just…loves you. A lot.” I said, trying to keep it light.

You must know you’re beautiful.

“Right. Stil, I might have to have a talk with her, but…” Noah scrubbed a hand down his face. “The stuff she said about Courtney—my ex?”

I blinked, sitting back slightly. “Uh huh.” I braced for impact. Here was the part where he told me he was still in love with her. Before I mistook his compliments and all this, for something more.

“My marriage...it’s definitely over. It’s been over for a long time. And I really don’t want you to get the wrong impression. If my mom said otherwise…” He shook his head. “All wishful thinking on her part.”

Oh.

“You’re sure?” I asked.

“Absolutely.” He exhaled, looking ahead. “I’m not… It’s… I just want you to know that.”

I swallowed, heart thudding. “Okay.”

Our hands were close—mine resting beside his on the seat—and when his pinky brushed lightly over mine, I stilled.

The contact was brief. Barely there.

But it lit something. A charge, humming silently between us.

Just then, the gears beneath us let out a groan, and the bus shuddered, once, then again, then smoothed back out.

Noah and I exchanged a glance, both eyebrows raised. Then the road crested and the view opened wide. Noah leaned toward the window, shoulder brushing mine. I didn’t move away. In fact, I might’ve leaned in a little.

Below us, the small town nestled in that valley looked to be straight out of a Western.

Tay’s voice crackled over the speaker. “Okay, folks! This charming little town is Silverton. Founded in 1874 as a mining camp, it once boasted more than two thousand residents and twenty-nine saloons. Priorities, am I right?”

“I’m still recovering from last night!” Ed called out.

“Then good thing we’re just passing through today,” Tay said. “Those of you signed up for the Durango-Silverton Railroad tomorrow, you’ll get time to explore. For now, we’re pressing on—tour at Mesa Verde this afternoon.”

I sat back, watching Silverton slide past the window. A golden retriever trotted down the sidewalk. A handful of bikers thundered by in the other lane.

Tay kept up her narration: “We’ll have two nights in Durango. Great food, scenic walks, great shopping. Something for everyone.”

I barely heard her.

Noah hadn’t said anything since the bump in the road. But I could feel him. Every breath. Every shift.

The air still buzzed from what we’d said.

You must know you’re beautiful.

And then, without warning, the bus jolted again—hard.