Noah had already let go, his hand back at his side like nothing had happened. But for a brief moment, Mrs. Grady’s pinched expression softened. She didn’t look like the woman who spent most of the time throwing me cool glares across the aisle. She looked like…a mother.
The thought landed like a knot in my chest—but before I could begin dwelling on the guilt that came whenever I thought about my mom, the guide launched into more details about the hotel’s early electricity.
Babs, standing quietly beside me, leaned in just a little and murmured, “Distracting, isn’t he?”
I followed her line of sight. “You mean Ed?” I deadpanned, watching him whisper something into Eddie’s ear. “They are on their honeymoon.”
Babs gave a low, knowing chuckle. “Cute. But I wasn’t born yesterday.”
I just shrugged, dropping my gaze to the floor.
And then she added, “Remember, this is only partly about the tour. It’s mostly about the people you meet along the way.”
I glanced at her. “I know. I’ve met you, haven’t I?” In that moment, I meant it. Because even though Babs seemed to be around the same age as my mom, her free spirit, her open-mindedness, reminded me a little of Gran.
She grinned. “Exactly.”
Archie clapped his hands together. “Follow me upstairs, now, and you’ll soon learn about the ever-growing history and spirits that linger here together.”
One of the hikers let out an exaggerated ghostly wail as we climbed the carpeted staircase, earning a few chuckles from the group. Archie, unfazed, led us along the dimly lit hallway, sconces casting soft gold light and exaggerated shadows across the walls. When he paused near a room with a brass plaque, we instinctively clustered closer.
Babs had moved to Mrs. Grady’s side.
And somehow, Noah had ended up right beside me.
“You missed out on some pretty mediocre cheesecake,” I murmured, eyes still on the guide.
“Hmm…” His totally unilluminating response vibrated through me.
“Don’t you like cheesecake?”
“I like cheesecake.”
“So…?” I turned my head slightly. “Why would you just leave?”
We both knew this wasn’t about the cheesecake.
And even though it wasn’t like me to push… I pushed. “You seemed…upset. At dinner.”
He exhaled. “I was soaked.”
“So that’s why you left? Because of the water?”
He hesitated just long enough that I knew it wasn’t about the water either.
“It wasn’t exactly comfortable.”
“The conversation made you uncomfortable? Blood pressure meds and gallbladder stories?” I tried to keep it light, but I could feel I was edging too close.
His jaw flexed, and he looked straight ahead. “I’m just not… My job—It’s not like people think…”
Archie was speaking again.
“Suite two-one-seven. In the seventies…” He gestured toward a brass plaque on the door and announced in a hushed, dramatic tone. “Stephen King and his wife, Tabitha, stayed in this very room.”
“What’s it really like then?” I whispered back, totally pushing now.
I turned my head all the way this time. Because for all the irritation and sarcasm, for all the sideways glances and bossiness, Noah Grady intrigued me.
