Page 14 of Picture This

How could I blame this on Jake?

Chapter 4

Noah

Emily stood beside the open door of the resort’s SUV, her cheeks pale and eyes red from crying. She glanced at the back seat and buried her face in her hands. “This is so embarrassing.”

I bit my tongue and picked up the end of the hose, coiling it as I returned it to the stables. Despite the scents of hay and horses, the smell of Luca’s puke was still stuck in my nose.

The SUV would need to be detailed, but I’d leave that to Mark. The rubber floor mats were still wet, but at least they were vomit-free.

I’d been leaving the barn, having spent my morning taking orders from the wedding coordinator, when Emily and Luca had returned from the shortest camping trip in history.

Mark, their host, had practically jumped out of the SUV once they’d reached the parking lot. The minute his boots had hit the ground, he’d bent over by the vehicle’s front tire and heaved.

Emily and Luca had gotten out more slowly. Sheepishly.

Luca’s shirt had been covered in puke, and what hadn’t landed on his clothes had made it to the floor of the vehicle.

Emily had begged me to help, mortified at the idea of asking Mark to clean up her fiancé’s mess. So while she’d taken Luca to their room in the lodge for a shower and nap to sleep off the alcohol, I’d pulled the SUV to the stables and found a hose.

“I’m sorry, Noah.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I told her. “I’ve had to deal with stuff like this before.”

I’d had a couple of students lose their lunches, and I was the least squeamish teacher on staff at the grade school.

“I should have let him sit up front,” she said. “He gets carsick, and the road was winding. He didn’t have any trouble going to the campsite, so I didn’t even think about it on the way down. I just . . .”

“Didn’t want to sit in the back. I know.”

Ever since the accident, she chose to sit up front whenever possible.

Emily ran her hands up and down her forearms, her fingers tracing the scars she’d gotten that day. “So much for camping.”

“You had good intentions.”

“Yeah,” she muttered, looking around. “Where’s Mark?”

Far, far away from the SUV. Apparently, he was a sympathetic puker. “He took a different SUV and went back to the campsite.”

“Good.” She sighed. “Delylah was hiking when Luca and I got into our stupid fight. I didn’t even tell her we were leaving. I don’t want her to feel stuck up there alone with Jake.”

“I thought you wanted them to hit it off.”

“They didn’t. He’s not her type.”

What was her type? I couldn’t remember Delylah dating much in high school. Granted, I’d left for college her junior year, but even when I came home for vacations and breaks, she’d never had a boyfriend around. Her date for her senior prom was Emily because my sister had just gotten dumped and Delylah was a damn good friend, so they’d gone together.

Was Delylah into wealthy New Yorkers? Or would she go for a middle school teacher who might not be rich but owned a house and wasn’t scared of a little vomit?

“I’m going to go check on Luca,” Emily said. “Thanks for helping me.”

“Welcome.” I fell in step beside her as we made our way toward the lodge.

The clouds overhead were beginning to darken. Rain wasn’t in the forecast, but the scent of it clung to the air. With the storm coming, maybe Delylah would bail on camping, and tonight, I could spend my dinner with her.

We were halfway through the parking lot when a resort SUV pulled up to the entrance, the Haven River Ranch logo printed on each of the doors.