“Yes, I’m fine. Sorry to worry you.” She flushed, feeling a pang of guilt. She’d texted from the road around midnight that she’d checked in and was too exhausted to talk. Then she’d silenced her phone and crashed in the car while Dylan drove them to Albuquerque. She felt bad about not calling but knew she’d do so first thing in the morning. Only Mark had called her first, catching her off guard.

She took a deep breath and pulled herself together. “The Grand Canyon was exceptionally crowded, but I’m glad I saw it.”

“How was the drive to Albuquerque?”

“Long and dull. There wasn’t much to see.” She plucked at the pearl button on her shirt, nervous he’d pick up on her lie.

“It wouldn’t be dull if I was there. I can fly in tonight.”

“No!” she said sharply and too quickly, sitting upright. “I mean . . . no, that’s not necessary.” She settled back into the chair. “I am having fun, honest. I’m just tired from all the driving.”

Mark’s end of the line was silent, and Joy worried she’d upset him. Movement outside lured her to the window. Hot air balloons drifted along the horizon, colorful orbs in the sky. Her breath caught.

“What’s going on?”

“Hot air balloons. Outside. They’re beautiful.”

“Text me a picture,” he asked.

She did. “Did you ask your mom about the date for bridal shopping?”

“August nineteenth.”

Twelve days from now. “Perfect. I’ll let my mom and Taryn know.”

“They can stay with my parents. Our apartment is a bit tight.”

“Our apartment. I like the sound of that.”

“Do you?” he asked, sounding unconvinced.

“Of course. Don’t you?”

“I do. But sometimes—” He cut out. Muffled voices come over the line. “My eleven o’clock is here. I have to go. Call me tonight.”

“I will,” she agreed, curious what he was about to say. Sometimes, what? Did he think she didn’t want to move in with him since she hadn’t invited him on her road trip?

Mark ended the call abruptly, leaving Joy to stare at a blank screen. He hadn’t given her the chance to tell him she loved him.

She’d upset him and hurt his feelings. She’d also lied. Still, she didn’t regret a moment of yesterday.

Dylan knocked loudly on the door. Joy glanced at the bedside clock. Nine o’clock a.m. If anything, Dylan was prompt. She let him in, and golly gee willikers, Judy would have griped, he was in a foul mood.

Joy got the hint. She didn’t need to be told twice to “go do your thing.” She grabbed her belongings and bailed from the room. Obviously yesterday’s stunt on the bridge wasn’t as monumental to him as it was to her.