Page 53 of The Love Bus

FUN, BUT NOT TOO MUCH FUN

T he excursion was longer than I’d expected, and by the time we returned to Durango, the sun was low on the horizon, staining the mountains gold. But the day? It had been one of my favorites yet.

Once we reached Silverton, the town looked like it had been plucked out of another century, with its brightly painted storefronts and wooden sidewalks. It was nice being able to see it up close this time, at our leisure, instead of just driving through.

After wandering aimlessly at first, Noah and I dipped in for lunch at a rustic little place called Handlebars, where there weren’t just bearskins and antlers on the walls, but actual animal heads, which should have been creepy but totally fit the vibe.

Afterward, we poked into a rock shop, an antique store and a place that sold homemade fudge. But it was the old-time photo studio tucked between a saloon-themed bar and a souvenir shop that caught my eye.

“Wouldn’t that make a fun keepsake?” I said, mostly to myself.

Noah looked at me like he was checking to see if I was serious. And once he realized I was, he didn’t hesitate—he just took my hand and dragged me inside.

I ended up in a corseted barmaid’s getup—black lace, deep red satin, a skirt with ruffled tiers, and fishnet stockings that made me blush when I caught my reflection.

They even gave me a feathered hairpiece and a pair of dainty lace gloves.

I looked like trouble. And for the first time in ages, I kind of felt like it.

Noah, on the other hand, had been outfitted as a rugged outlaw—white button-up rolled to the elbows, suspenders slung low, a battered hat tipped just right, and a toy pistol holstered at his hip.

It was all too easy to picture him leaning against a saloon post, eyes narrowed, hand twitching toward that gun.

When the photographer assumed we were a couple, Noah glanced at me.

Neither of us corrected him.

What I hadn’t expected was how intimate the shoot would be.

Every pose had some variation of his arm around me, my hand on his chest, his face angled close to mine.

In one shot, the photographer had me perch my foot in Noah's lap, letting my skirts fall away, placing Noah’s mouth dangerously close to my garters…

But we hadn’t kissed again.

Yet?

I’d had to keep reminding myself that this didn’t mean anything. That we might be blurring the lines, but we were both on vacation.

This was what it felt like to have fun!

Only…

Looking at those pictures later, in the privacy of my hotel room, I could see how real the heat had been between us.

I could see it in my face.

I dropped onto the bed, spread the photos around me, and then went to work texting one of the digital images, along with a few selfies of me and Noah, to my sister.

I wasn’t surprised when the phone immediately buzzed in my hand.

“Hey?” I answered, because yeah, I was practically bursting to chat about today with my sister, but I was also risking an earful of disapproval.

“This is the owner of the coat?” she asked. No hello . No are you having fun? No Blakey and Maxwell miss you so much!

But I was smiling. “Yeah. And yes, I’m totally crushing on him!”

“Crushing? Is that what this is?” Ashley laughed, but then she fell kinda quiet. “You sound…good.”

I just nodded. “I am.” But even though I’d intended to tell her about the kiss under the waterfall, and the moments in his room the night before, I was suddenly afraid of putting all that out there…

Like I’d be jinxing myself.

“The boys just went down for bed, so tell me everything!” It was weird, having my sister’s full attention like this. She was a mom and a wife. And someone always seemed to be needing something from her.

“What about Beckett?” I toed off my sandals and leaned back, getting more comfortable.

“He’s…working late again.” Something in her voice had me frowning.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah. Of course. Mom’s good. The boys are good. I picked up a new client today. But I want to hear about you. Have you…?” She lowered her voice, and I could imagine her glancing around to be sure the twins hadn’t snuck out of bed. “Slept with him?”

“He kissed me,” I said. But before she could get the wrong idea, I rushed to add, “But we decided not to take things any further. He knows about the broken engagement, and he’s…working through some issues with his job at home. So… yeah. No.”

“But… you wouldn’t mind, would you?” And there it was. She’d said it out loud. The thing I couldn’t.

I bit down on my bottom lip and rolled it between my teeth, hesitating. “Maybe?” I didn’t want to sound too enthusiastic.

My answer was met with a few seconds of silence.

“Maybe I should’ve been the one to go on that trip.”

“Is Mom being difficult?”

“No… She’s fine. I just—” She paused. “A change sounds nice.”

There was a quiet note in her voice. Not quite tired. Not quite wistful. Just…off. It was something I didn’t usually hear from my sister, who always seemed to have it all together.

“Sounds like you and Beckett need a vacation,” I said, picturing her and her good-looking, dependable, smart, charming, perfect husband sipping cocktails on a beach somewhere.

“Yeah.” A long sigh. “Maybe.”

Before I could ask what that was supposed to mean, she pivoted—sharp as ever—firing off a string of questions about the guy who’d managed to distract me from the dumpster fire waiting for me back in Newport.

I told her how he’d helped with Roger back in Moab, then how sweet he was when he talked about his pets. That he was divorced.

“And his mom doesn’t seem to totally hate me anymore.”

“She’s the one getting over cancer, right?”

“I told you about that?”

“Yeah… I mean, you must have, right?”

“I think the altitude’s getting to me. But yeah. Noah says she’s been given a clean bill of health, but the treatment, the stress. But she was actually kind of fun on the train this morning.” Which reminded me. “Hey, Ash?”

“Yeah?”

“Being on that train today…” I hesitated, already feeling my throat tighten. “It made me think about Dad. I wish Mom hadn’t gotten rid of his little village.” My voice came out sharper than I meant.

“She didn’t get rid of it, Luna.”

I blinked. “What?”

“It’s in storage. All boxed up. For when the boys are older.” A pause. “It was my idea.”

“Oh.” I hadn’t expected that. The image I remembered was of an empty basement, cold and echoey. I’d assumed it had all been trashed. “She didn’t waste much time, though.”

“She wasn’t the one who packed it up,” Ashley said, more gently now. “I was.”

That didn’t compute. I’d heard Mom complain about that train village a hundred times. “Why?”

“You weren’t here,” Ashley said quietly. “You didn’t see her.”

“See her how?”

“I stopped by once, maybe a month after the funeral. She was downstairs. Just…sobbing.”

I couldn’t picture it. Not Mom. Stoic, buttoned-up, battle-ready even at Gran’s funeral.

“She doesn’t cry,” I said, more to myself than to Ashley. “She didn’t even cry at?—”

“She does,” Ashley interrupted. “Just not when you’re looking.”

The words scraped at something raw in me.

“I know she has feelings,” I muttered, but the truth was, I wasn’t sure I did. “Just…not where I’m concerned.”

There was a long pause.

“Maybe because you’ve both been trying so hard not to disappoint each other, neither of you knows how to just...talk.”

I didn’t know what to say to that.

“Just know that turning the basement into a craft room…it helped.”

I swallowed, unsure what emotion was rising now. Guilt? Defensiveness? Loss?

“Oh,” I said again, because I didn’t trust what might come out if I said anything more.

Ashley let out a breath. “You and Mom—you're not great at communicating. But maybe just try giving her the benefit of the doubt?”

Benefit of the doubt.

Funny. I couldn’t remember Mom ever giving it to me.

“Sure.” I was lying on my back now, staring at the ceiling. “Hey, Ash, I’ve gotta go. We’re heading to the Grand Canyon tomorrow, so I’d better get some sleep.” I forced myself to sound cheerful. “Tell the boys I said hi, and that I’m bringing back presents.”

“I will. And you have fun, okay? But maybe not too much fun?”

“No promises.”

We hung up, and I tossed my phone aside. Ugh. Now I was feeling guilty about Mom again but in an entirely different way than before. But how was it my fault that I couldn’t read Mom’s mind?

Mood thoroughly soured, I finally got around to unpacking, showered, brushed my teeth, and then changed into my PJs. When I was finished, I just flopped on top of the covers and stared at the ceiling again. I was tired, but I wasn’t ready to go to sleep.

Since I didn’t want to look at my phone, I took out the old-fashioned photographs again.

There was this one…I kept coming back to it.

In it, I was laughing, and Noah wasn’t looking at the camera, but at me.

Friends , I reminded myself.

But after…everything, did that even still apply? Did friends look at each other like that?

I was still staring at the photo in my lap when a knock pulled me out of my thoughts.

Soft. Hesitant. And it was—what, eleven o’clock?

I moved to the door barefoot, the carpet cool beneath my feet.

“Who is it?”

A beat. “It’s me.”

That voice. Sexy. Low. Familiar.

Did I say sexy?

I unlatched the door and opened it just a few inches.

Noah stood there, damp curls pushed back from his forehead, a fresh T-shirt clinging to his frame. And those gray sweatpants. The ones I was starting to suspect were my personal kryptonite.

“Hey.” His eyes met mine, uncertain. A little rough around the edges.

My heart flipped. Then fluttered.

“Hey,” I said back.

Our eyes held—longer than they should’ve. And everything else faded.

The hallway hushed. Even the distant clink of someone getting ice felt far away.

I looked up at him—really looked.

I noticed the faint bend in his nose, like it might’ve been broken once but was still perfect on him. The way his eyelashes curled—absurdly thick. The hint of a shadow along his jaw.

And the way his lips parted slightly, like he was about to speak but wasn’t sure what to say.

I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until I let it out.

Have fun, but not too much fun , Ashley had said.

No promises , I’d told her.

I opened the door wider. My voice low, almost breathless. “Wanna come in?”

His nod was slow. Intentional. “Yeah.”

When he stepped inside, I realized he was barefoot.

He wasn’t bringing anything. No snacks. No wine. No jacket. Just him.

I closed the door and pressed my back against it, just watching him and waiting.

Noah was staring down at the carpet, but then he looked up at me.

“I heard you moving around…through the wall.” He glanced to the side and then back to me. “Wanted to make sure the ghosts weren’t bothering you.”

I bit back a smile. “You’re here to banish them for me?”

“If that’s what you want.” Our eyes were locked together, but neither of us had moved. And because I struggled with awkward silences, I had to break it.

“The train was fun, wasn’t it?” My voice came out breathy.

He answered with a low nod.

“We have an early morning.” Tay had ordered us to be ready to leave by seven hundred hours. I didn’t know why I felt the need to point this out.

“We do.”

Still, he didn’t move.

And neither did I.

His gaze dropped—slow, deliberate. Down the length of me.

Over the thin cotton of my tank top. The curve of my waist. My bare legs. The tips of my toes.

It didn’t feel like looking.

It felt like a warm hand skimming across my skin.

Like heat. Like want.

Like the promise of something inevitable.

I licked my lips.

And in that moment, something in the air shifted.

Snapped.