“Totally. You look exhausted, and it makes more sense for me to go anyway.”
He agreed quickly after that, confirming that he was, in fact, just as tired as he looked. A few short minutes later, I was speedwalking toward the lounge on the main floor. It was the first place I’d thought to look and, sure enough, I found Tay sitting at the bar with a half-full martini.
When she saw me, she didn’t even try hiding her smile.
“I take it he found you?”
“You know?” Of course, Tay knew. At least this way, I didn’t have to explain how he’d made it back.
“I just sent Joey to get his luggage. I told him to take it to Mrs. Grady’s room.”
“No!” It burst out of me, louder than I’d intended. Tay raised her eyebrows. “I mean, can you catch him? Have him take it to my room instead. Please.”
“Your room, huh?” She waited a couple beats, watching me squirm, but then pulled out her phone with a chirped “Okay!” and called Joe’s number.
“Hey, yeah. Could you take the good doctor’s things to Room 217 instead?”
“He’s probably still in the shower…” I mumbled.
“Don’t bother knocking.” Tay’s eyes were laughing at me in that conspiratorial, good-for-you kind of way. “Just do not, I repeat, do not tell anyone he’s back with the tour. Luna will be there in about two minutes.” She hung up. “Go on then,” she said.
For a second, I saw what might be a hint of…not jealousy. But a sad kind of longing.
I held back, torn…
“Go.” She gave me a little shove.
I only hesitated a second longer. “Thanks, Tay.” And then I was gone.
But Noah didn’t actually need any of his clothing for quite a while. Because when I got back to the room and found him with nothing but a towel slung around his waist…
Well… We kind of picked up where we’d left off.
It wasn’t until much later, while I was snuggled up against him, and his stomach growled, that we both put some clothes on and ordered room service.
TRUST
“I can’t believe you helicoptered out of the Grand Canyon today.” The notion was mindboggling in itself, even more so that he’d done that to be with me. “Was it scary?”
Noah paused, still holding the French fry he was about to put in his mouth, and gave me one of those smirk/smiles. “It wouldn’t have been nearly as fun if it weren’t at least a little scary.” He popped it in his mouth and then turned to me. “Have you ever been on one, a helicopter?”
“You saw how well I did on the airplane.”
“You did fine on the swing.”
Did I, though? “I guess…?” It kind of stunk, because I knew that I had been more adventurous before I settled down with Leo.
But it really didn’t matter. Because we were on a sightseeing tour with senior citizens, not an adventure tour. I stole one of his fries and chewed thoughtfully. Then I told him about the trail ride we’d taken while he’d been on his own little odyssey, showing him my pictures—one of them a selfie of me and my mule.
“Will you send me that one?”
We were both sitting cross-legged on the bed, side by side, flipping through photos on each other’s phones—trading snippets of our day like we hadn’t seen each other in weeks rather than a mere twenty-four hours.
“Only if you send me this one.” I held up one of him sitting in the helicopter, the canyon stretched out far below and behind him, painted in desert pinks, oranges, and blues.
I looked at the photo again—his hair windswept, his smile uneven, and the entire world unfolding behind him. “God, there’s so much more to see.” It came out more wistful than I’d thought it would.
The trip was winding down. Which meant we would be winding down too. Just a few days left. I felt that clock ticking again, louder than it had before.
