The Tourist Attraction (Moose Springs, Alaska)

by Sarah Morgenthaler

  Neither of them wanted to return to the still-crying little girl and her leg-attacking brother, so they found a small bench against the wall, barely big enough for the two to sit squished together. Graham’s stomach lurched at the roiling of the vessel, and he focused on the view outside to distract himself.

  “See that?” He nodded at the shoreline in the distance.

  “What am I looking at?”

  “I don’t know. I figured you would.”

  She gripped the wall for purchase. “Landmasses aren’t my expertise.”

  “I’ll make it up for you. Okay, right there, that’s Moose Turd Isle.” When Zoey slapped his arm lightly in admonition, Graham wondered if she knew her attempt not to giggle was all the encouragement he needed to bust out his inner thirteen-year-old.

  Amid his describing Big Bazonga Mountain far off in the distance, a look of disgust passed Zoey’s face. “Eww. Another one?”

  “Another what?”

  “Have you noticed how many people are throwing up?”

  Honestly, Graham had been doing his best not to think about it. Even as they reached relatively calmer water, the waves were still enough to have the boat pitching about.

  Now that she pointed it out, though, there really were a lot of people growing sick.

  “We got another one. The kid with the pointy shoe.”

  “Eek, his mother too,” Zoey added.

  Everyone was throwing up. With each new gagging noise, another broke ranks and began hurling too. Even Graham was getting grossed out, the smell leaving him more than a little nauseous himself.

  Zoey kept twisting around, looking at the other passengers in concern. “Do you think they’ll cancel the trip if too many people get sick?”

  Graham didn’t know, but his heart went out to her.

  “Come on,” he said. “They opened the doors. Let’s get outside and get some fresh air. Maybe we’ll see something.”

  They weren’t the only ones with the idea. The bow was stuffed with green faces and bodies pushing for room on the rail to see…nope. Not to see anything. Just to use the rail as a launching pad for their lunches.

  “This is so disgusting.” Zoey started laughing, her eyes filled with tears.

  “You have the worst luck, don’t you?” The bow dipped, spraying them with droplets of frothy ocean water. Graham braced his legs wide apart, gripping the handrail closest to him for balance. She did the same, hand brushing his, but Zoey kept turning around, clicking away with her phone, even though all they could see was the cliffside and two sea lions sunning themselves on a partially submerged rock.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve heard from another vessel there’s a pod of killer whales nearby. Let’s see if we can catch them before they go deep.”

  With a squeak of excitement, Zoey went up on her toes.

  “Graham, I don’t see them.”

  Did she have binoculars? Of course she did. But even with the bulky things squashed to her eyeglasses, she still looked disappointed.

  Graham’s stomach lurched when the boat crested a series of strong waves, and Zoey nearly ate it, juggling her binoculars and phone instead of holding onto the rail. Normally, Graham made sure a woman wanted his arm around them before doing so, but as she scrambled to keep hold of her things, he doubted Zoey even realized his arm was around her waist.

  “Sorry, folks. Looks like they slipped away from us. Keep on a lookout for blowholes. We might see something yet.”

  Dropping down to her heels, Zoey’s shoulders slumped. “At least we didn’t get sick, right?”

  Graham squeezed her waist, drawing her just a little closer. “That’s something. And the view is—”

  “Stunning,” she breathed, finishing his thought.

  The captain cleared his throat. “Ladies and gentlemen, there seems to be some activity on our starboard side. It appears—oh.”

  “Don’t say it,” Graham murmured. “Don’t say it.”

  “It appears the dolphins are chumming the waters.”

  Large, horrified eyes turned to Graham. “They’re eating the vomit?”

  “They’re eating the vomit.”

  It happened so fast, Graham was utterly unprepared for it. One moment, he was staring at the dolphins eating a tour boat’s collective breakfast in equally horrified fascination. The next moment, the largest killer whale he’d ever seen in his life rose up from the water right next to their boat and crashed back down, the force of the whale’s mass rocking their boat sideways.

  Graham lost his balance, but two arms wrapped around his waist, holding him up as the boat dropped down into the trench of the wave caused by the jumping whale.

  Zoey’s eyes were huge, her hair soaked, her glasses beading with water and askew. “Did that just happen?”

  “That just happened, Zo.”

  The utter joy on her face wrapped around Graham’s heart and hauled it down somewhere in his stomach, right where it was easier for her to hold on tight. With a squeal of sheer excitement, Zoey let go of his waist and flung herself into his arms.

  “I just saw a killer whale! Graham!”

  “We just got beaten up by a killer whale,” he teased, unable to loosen his hold on her. Instead, Graham pulled her closer. “See, gorgeous?” he murmured in her ear. “Not a waste of time at all.”

  It would have been the absolute perfect moment to kiss her. Which was why it made complete sense that Graham turned and lost his lunch over the side of the railing.

  * * *

  When the violent rocking of the tour boat caused what few passengers who hadn’t gotten sick to turn green, the captain called it a loss and headed back to shore. Killer whale shower or not, some things simply weren’t salvageable.

  As for Zoey, her feet were floating ten feet off the ground, even as they were told everyone had to come back inside and stay in their seats.

  The ride back to shore was even choppier than the ride out. Every time the boat rose and dipped with the waves, the group would collectively groan. Waves crashed into the bow with heavy slaps of water, the resultant boom vibrating the air around them, turning the tour boat into a metal drum.

  To his credit, Graham kept the rest of his insides in, but he had to fight for it. They found a pair of seats away from everyone else near the bow, since so many passengers were gathered back by the coffee station, where the rise and fall of the turbulent waters weren’t as pronounced. The ride was rougher, but at least they had some space. Large hands gripped the edge of his seat until Graham’s knuckles were as pale as his face. She gave him some motion sickness medicine when he asked, but it was too late to help him. Like the rest of the boat, Graham was screwed.

  When they finally docked, it was a stampede to get back to solid ground.

  “I like you, Zoey,” Graham decided as they grabbed their things and tried to escape the vessel before the masses. “But the next time L says to hop on a boat with you, my answer’s going to be a hard pass.”

  “Don’t worry. My glacier tour tomorrow is just me,” Zoey told him, trying to force away her disappointment. It didn’t matter that the tour had been cut short or that so many other tourists had been irresponsible with their motion sickness preparation. She’d not only gotten to see a whale, she’d been drenched by the amazing creature from head to toe.

  “No shuttle bus,” Graham groaned. “Leave me. Save yourself.”

  “Come on, big guy,” Zoey said, pulling his arm around her neck and wrapping hers around his waist, giving him something solid to lean on. “It’s not so bad.”

  “Zo, I will give you anything you want to convince you to take a rideshare back to the big house. I know people. Good, smooth-driving people who will come pick us up.”

  “All of whom will have to drive here first and then take us back. The sooner you toughen up your squishy little spine and get on
the shuttle bus, the sooner you can be home.”

  “Women aren’t the gentler sex.”

  “No, we aren’t. Okay, handsome, in you go.”

  She pretty much had to stuff him through the door, and Zoey wasn’t surprised at all when he took a three-seat bench all for the two of them, flopping down dramatically and telling anyone who tried to sit with them they’d rue their decision for the next hour. Unsurprisingly, the sheer volume of space Graham took up encouraged the others to accommodate him.

  “I know you feel terrible, but there’s no excuse for this kind of manspreading,” Zoey chided him. “At least get your legs in our area.”

  “Manspreading?”

  “You know, when guys take way too much space because they think they inherently deserve it.”

  Tucking his legs in a few inches more, Graham sighed. “Better? Because my manness can only inverse spread so much.”

  The shuttle bus rolled a few feet, then lurched to a stop, turn signal on. Graham groaned and turned his face into her shoulder. Zoey patted him on the back of the neck.

  “You’re manspreading again. Tuck ’em up there, handsome.”

  “Sorry. It’s been an educational day for my pelvis.”

  To his credit, Graham tried to keep his long limbs contained from there out. But the motion sickness medicine finally kicked in, along with the drowsiness. The face hiding mournfully in her shoulder became an actual head sleeping on her shoulder.

  And a sleeping Graham sprawled.

  “I don’t actually know him,” Zoey told the others in the bus as he began snoring. Aggressively. Taking his chin in her hand, she gave him a little shake. “Graham. You’re driving everyone nuts.”

  He blinked at her, gave her a sleepy smile, and then winked. He winked. Then he was out again.

  The bus driver picked up his piece of paper, the bus wobbling as he jostled paper, steering wheel, and his intercom.

  “On the left, you’ll see the Chugach Mountain Range—”

  He was reading the same thing. The exact same spiel that had interested her on the trip there, except they weren’t in Moose Springs, and the mountains were on the right, not the left.

  Sleeping Graham said what they all were thinking, a loud snort of disgust, followed by a few choking noises.

  About halfway into the trip, Zoey gave up trying to wake Graham and looked out the window. As they drove higher into the mountains, Zoey sighed wistfully. She would have given anything to stop and look around, to hike into these mountains and feel the earth beneath her feet. Smell the fresh air and hear the birds singing in the trees above her head. The need was visceral, like a hand wrapping itself around her heart and pulling her.

  Smooshing her forehead against the safety glass and staring longingly was the best she could do.

  Only in the last few minutes leading up to their arrival in Moose Springs did Graham start to stir, a feat requiring some significant effort on Zoey’s part. The speed bump just after the Moose Springs Resort gatehouse finally pulled him awake.

  Thank goodness, because there was only so much drool her shirt could soak up, and he’d reached maximum capacity.

  “Hey there, Zoey Bear.” Sleep made his voice rougher and sexier, lashes framing those warm eyes as he gazed at her.

  “Are you feeling better?”

  Graham yawned, a mighty yawn, and stretched his muscled arms above his head, vertebrae cracking in a way that must have been pleasant. “Yeah, it was a good nap. How about you?”

  “I’m thirty seconds from clawing either my eardrums or your eyeballs out. So please. Pretty please. Move.”

  Blinking, Graham stood up, backing into the aisle to give her a clear escape route. “Was I snoring?”

  “There are no words for what you were doing. You need a sleep apnea test. You’re at risk for a stroke.”

  “Hmm. Would you believe you’re not the first woman to tell me that?” Graham followed at her heels, giving a parting wave to the rest of the bus.

  Zoey dutifully tipped the tour guide, then headed inside, sidestepping Diego and his pamphlets as she pulled out her phone. “We may need to use yours to call Lana.”

  “What. The. Hell.”

  At Graham’s horrified tone, Zoey looked up. Instead of having to track her down—a feat proven difficult this trip—Lana was waiting for them in the lobby, ever-present phone in one hand and a glass of champagne in the other. Head to toe glam luxury, Lana was dressed in the kind of silky red and gold romper that only women of her level of attractiveness could pull off. Not for the first time, Zoey felt woefully outclassed by her friend, but it was impossible to hold it against her when Lana beamed at her.

  “Oh, I was hoping you would be here soon. How was the tour?”

  “There was a whale.” Zoey tried desperately not to let her disappointment show through.

  “Just one?”

  Just one. And a lot of vomit.

  “What the hell did you do to my dog, L? Did you bedazzle him?”

  “Stop being such a baby. It’s just some bling.”

  Graham whistled for Jake, but the animal stretched out at Lana’s feet never moved.

  “I told you,” Lana said smugly. “You don’t take nearly as good care of him as you should. Right, dearest?”

  Jake barked in complete agreement.

  * * *

  Since Graham was sick, Zoey drove him home this time.

  Having left his truck at the Tourist Trap earlier, he promised he could catch a ride into town tomorrow with Easton. Zoey didn’t doubt his ability to find someone to help when Graham clearly knew everyone in Moose Springs.

  Even though his land was right up against the resort property, the actual access road took a while to reach, meaning he had time to fiddle with the settings on her rental car, finding the better stations—so he claimed—and not making it as hot as a desert in there. Then he went about trying to scrape the crystals cemented to Jake’s freshly clipped and painted toenails with his pocketknife.

  “This was invasive,” Graham grumbled. “Who blings someone else’s fur child?”

  “Keep those crystals,” Zoey advised. “They’re probably diamond chips.”

  “That’s absurd. Even L wouldn’t do that.”

  “Wanna bet?”

  Shaking his head, Graham kept working, but he did make a careful little pile of crystals on the center console of her rental. They pulled up to his house right as the light started to shift from the bright blue of day to a softer, yellowing color, the only indication evening was approaching.

  “Violent illness aside, did you have fun at all?” Zoey asked, setting the car in park.

  “I always have fun with you.” He seemed loathe to leave, and to be honest, Zoey wasn’t ready to part either. “Walk a fellow to his door?”

  Charmed despite knowing better, Zoey climbed out and offered him her arm. Like the gentleman he was, Graham took it and made a deal of leaning on her for help.

  “It was so awful, Zoey.” He turned his head, groaning into the top of hers, leaning in playfully. “Everyone thought it was fish chowder, but no one realized it was poison. My pain is still palpable.”

  “You had the chili.” Unable to help pointing that out, she patted his head. “I promise you’ll live.”

  “You’re not as cruel as I thought.” Stepping away when they reached the door, Graham started to open it for her, then hesitated.

  “I’d invite you in, but I have a firm no tourists rule.”

  A quick glance of apology wasn’t quite enough to take the sting from his rejection.

  “It’s fine.”

  As she turned to leave, Graham caught her fingers, drawing her back. Stepping close, Graham rested a warm, strong hand on her hip, gazing down at her. “It’s not you, Zoey; it’s me. I set a no rotating door policy on my life a long time ag
o. I’m not wired to live that way, so I keep some boundaries. But that doesn’t mean I want you to leave.”

  Softening the words with a sweet smile, Graham held up a finger to say he’d be right back. Disappearing into the house, Graham left Zoey and Jake on the porch, a scratchy puppy tongue licking at her fingers and a strong tail thumping against the back of her knee. He returned moments later, leaving the door open but the screen door shut behind them. Sitting down on the porch steps, Graham lifted a pair of old-fashioned bottled root beers in his hand.

  “Thirsty?”

  “Definitely.”

  Tilting a bottle her way, Graham handed the drink to her. Zoey took a sip of her root beer as Jake stretched out on the step below them, resting his chin on his furry paws. “This is good.”

  Jake’s ear flicked between Zoey’s direction and then Graham’s, following the conversation as they spoke.

  “Ash’s aunt home brews the stuff and sells it in town if you want to take some home. She sets some aside for the rest of us, because the visitors usually clean her out.”

  Us. Them. Clearly, Graham had a line drawn in the sand between the two, and the distaste in his town for “them” was impossible to ignore. Zoey took another sip, tipping her head. “All jokes aside, you don’t like the tourism in town, do you?”

  Graham opened his own drink and took a long swig, draining half the bottle. “I wouldn’t say that.”

  “You hate it?”

  “Closer.” Shrugging, Graham nudged Jake’s furry tail with the toe of his boot. “Let’s just say, I like my town a lot better when we’re left to our own devices. This is a great place. We don’t need idiots wrapping their Ferraris around trees in our front yards.”

  She waited, letting him choose his words.

  “I was just a kid when the Shaws built that place. Their son, Jackson, and I grew up together. Jax is a good guy, and we had a blast running around up there, causing trouble. But the older I got…I don’t know. Too much crap goes down that shouldn’t. We’re a good town with good people. We try to be welcoming, but at some point, enough is enough.”

  Pursing his lips, Graham finally grunted. “I keep telling myself that one of these days, I’ll pull stakes and move north where I won’t have to deal with any of this anymore.”