Just when I thought this guy couldn’t be more irresistible.
As a friend, of course.
“A dilemma,” I said, nodding gravely. “Have you considered increasing his exercise?”
Noah gave me a long look. “I haven’t actually.”
“You could blow a little whistle. Make Jumbo do underwater sprints.”
“Until he flips me the fin and floats belly-up out of protest.”
I smirked. “Maybe try the Mediterranean diet.”
He laughed. “I put a water plant in there once—Jumbo ate it overnight.”
“Emotional eater. Classic.”
“He lives with a judgmental cat who stares at him from the counter all day. Can you blame him?”
We were both laughing now, and I wasn’t sure what was funnier—Jumbo or this surprisingly silly version of Noah, who seemed to enjoy the absurdity just as much as I did.
It was...disarming. Unexpected. And really, really charming.
“Any other critters waiting at home for you? A dog, maybe?”
“I’m not home enough for a dog… What about you?”
“Nope, no pets.” I hesitated for a second because I had always liked the idea of having a dog or a cat around the house. We had a miniature wiener dog named Beans when I was a kid, and I remember him barking—a lot—but he was lovable. Unfortunately… “Leo was allergic.”
“Well, nothing’s stopping you now.” He turned and looked at me then, right in the eyes, expression deadly serious. “You should look into getting some fish.”
I snorted. “I don’t know, they sound pretty high maintenance. Maybe I’ll just share custody of someone else’s cat. That seems like the way to go.”
I was surprised by how quickly the time passed—almost as surprised by how much fun we were having, talking about silly, meaningless stuff. Even Mrs. Grady’s occasional disapproving glances couldn’t put a dent in my mood.
Just under three hours later, after winding through another canyon carved by the mighty Colorado River, the bus rolled to a stop in a parking lot near downtown Moab.
This time, though, Mrs. Grady seemed determined to stake her claim.
As people began lining up in the aisle, she stood, slipped in behind Babs, and practically tugged Noah out of his seat.
Under different circumstances—before Babs had explained Mrs. Grady’s health issues—I probably would’ve rolled my eyes.
But knowing what I knew now, I saw her differently. I’d thought she was a little snobby, and maybe she was, but she also seemed a little fragile. And coming on this trip with my own secrets, a personal life I wasn’t prepared to share with the world, I understood a desire to keep private things…private.
“I already know exactly where we’re going to eat,” Mrs. Grady declared, clutching Noah’s arm like a woman on a mission. “There’s this Mexican café, Holy Guacamole, it has more than two hundred five-star reviews.”
Maybe this wasn’t about control. Maybe it was just about time—time she wasn’t willing to waste.
Because when you’ve lost people, when the call comes out of nowhere, like it did with my dad, or when you’re sitting in the quiet of your childhood home while your gran takes her last breath two hours away, all alone, it changes you. It teaches you that time marches on. Whether we want it to or not.
Noah shot me a glance over his shoulder, brows raised, his smile soft with indulgence. There was a question in it, though.
You good?
He didn’t have to check on me. But I knew why he did it.
I just nodded. No incoming panic attacks today!
