The Tourist Attraction (Moose Springs, Alaska)

by Sarah Morgenthaler

  “Is this okay?” he murmured.

  When Zoey nodded, he curled his muscled arm around her waist and snugged her against his chest.

  “That was almost smooth,” she said, smiling.

  Graham returned her grin with a quick one of his own. “I do my best.”

  His best wasn’t too bad. To his credit, Graham was very good at holding a woman. His strong torso was the perfect place to cuddle into, her head resting on his collarbone as he traced lazy patterns with his thumb on her knee.

  Warm breath on her neck, just beneath her earlobe, made her shiver. “Do you want to take a walk?” His low masculine rumble left her knees weak.

  Murmuring a yes, Zoey rose to her feet. Eyes followed their movements, causing her cheeks to heat at the raised eyebrows and speculative looks.

  As soon as they slipped out of range of the firelight—and curious ears—Zoey gave Graham a rueful look. “They think we’re hooking up.”

  “Hey, whoa there, killer. What kind of guy do you think I am?”

  As he teased her, Graham wrapped his arm around her shoulders, keeping Zoey tucked to his side as they skirted the beach. He was much better at it than she was, and the warmth of his body cut the chill significantly.

  Even in the land of midnight sun, a cloudy sky could cover the landscape in a softer version of the darkness Zoey was used to at night. The waves crashing against the shore were so soothing, Zoey paused, drinking in the moment. But even the waves weren’t as good as having Graham’s arms slip down around her waist, turning her to face him. He touched his thumb to her jaw, a silent request for permission.

  In answer, Zoey nodded into his palm, turning her face and pressing her lips to the base of his thumb.

  “You just kissed my thumb.”

  “Was that weird?” Zoey asked. “That was super weird, wasn’t it?”

  In answer, Graham took her hand, his eyes locked on hers as he kissed each of her knuckles, slow, soft kisses that made her legs shaky.

  “It was the weirdest.” His eyes sparkled in the soft light, reflecting off the waves like dancing, broken glass. They started walking again, rounding a bend just as a cloud rolled away from the sun, leaving them once more in that strange, soft midnight sunlight.

  A quiet squeaking noise pulled her attention, followed by a series of clicking. More joined the first, then several loud huffs.

  “What is that?” she whispered, trying to see out into the water. All she could make out were shapes in the distance.

  “A narwhal pod. You’re lucky. They usually don’t come this close.”

  Mesmerized, Zoey leaned into his side, trying her best to find the long horns the whales were renowned for. Instead, there was only the soft slap of their bodies slipping beneath the surface.

  “Graham, can you see them?” When Graham shook his head, Zoey sighed. “That would have been perfect.”

  “We can wait awhile, see if they come back,” he offered kindly.

  But the sounds of the narwhal pod were gone. Taking his hand, Zoey started walking again. “I wish I could have seen them.”

  He glanced down at her in consideration. “We could always go swimming.”

  “Could we? I feel like maybe we shouldn’t. Isn’t the water freezing?”

  “Naw. It’s fine. Come on, Zo. Where’s your sense of adventure?”

  “I’m pretty sure being in the middle of the wilderness with a stranger thousands of miles away from everything I know pretty much entails that I am all about the adventure.”

  “Are we? Still strangers?”

  “Aren’t we?” she murmured, countering with his own question. Zoey really hoped not.

  “You’re in love with Easton, aren’t you?”

  Zoey sputtered. “I’m sorry, what was that?”

  “I see the way you look at him.” Graham sighed in mock misery. “I get it. The ladies always liked him the most. I don’t know. The rippling muscles thing never really did it for me. I was always a sucker for the artsy types.”

  “You don’t like me for my rippling muscles?” Holding up her arm, Zoey flexed. “You see that? It’s impressive.”

  “There are no words.” Even as he agreed with her, Graham’s large arms curled around her, tugging her closer.

  “You’re about to show off, aren’t you?”

  “I’m considering it. Do I need to?”

  “You definitely need to.”

  “Since you asked so nicely…”

  Even though she expected it, Zoey still squeaked when he scooped her up. But unlike a far sexier picking up situation, where her legs would be wrapped around his waist and Graham would be gazing down at her with lust in his eyes, she somehow ended up sitting on his shoulders facing the water, with his head between her thighs and her hands gripping his hair for balance.

  “Don’t worry. I won’t drop you,” Graham promised as he ambled down the beach. “Not unless I have a really good reason to.”

  His hair was soft, and since his head was right there, she ran her fingers through it. “Graham? What exactly are we doing out here? Other than defying gravity and giving you a neck ache?”

  “I wanted to show you something.”

  “What did you want to show me?” Zoey asked the top of his head. They skirted another boulder and then stopped.

  “This.”

  Beyond them, the rough, dark gray waters of the Turnagain Arm rose and crashed, widening from the narrow passageway to a broad, violent sea, ringed in jutting mountains. The low hanging sun cast yellow and orange hues across the far-off mountaintops, the highest snowy peaks reflecting that midnight sun. And somehow in that moment, on the shoulders of a man she was only starting to know, this wild, strange place was the most beautiful thing Zoey had ever witnessed.

  “There’s this moment,” Graham said quietly. “A moment everyone who decides to live in Alaska has, where they know without a shadow of a doubt that this is where they belong. I’d been here a hundred times, but the first time I truly saw this place was after I came back from college. I knew nothing out there could be better than what I had here. No matter what else you do or don’t get to experience, Zoey, I wanted you to come here, to my moment.”

  And maybe it was his moment, but as the clouds parted again, the narwhal pod surfaced, so close Zoey could see the reflection of their horns. She’d never seen anything so incredible, so otherworldly in her life.

  Utterly mesmerized, she couldn’t breathe.

  “Do I get points for summoning a herd of sea unicorns for you?” he murmured.

  “Graham.” She couldn’t put to words what she was feeling, but never had anything been so right.

  She didn’t know why—when there was something this amazing in front of him—Graham chose to lean his head back and gaze at her. “Looks like it’s your moment too, darlin’.”

  “Thank you.” Zoey was almost moved to tears. “Graham, tonight was…everything.”

  She’d never known anything could be this perfect, then Graham blew the rest of it out of the water when he whispered, “That’s how I felt the night I met you.”

  Zoey would never regret missing the narwhals disappearing into the water. Trusting Graham wouldn’t let her fall, Zoey bent over and kissed him instead.

  Chapter 11

  Every Sunday night in Moose Springs was karaoke night at the Tourist Trap.

  No one had bothered to ask Graham if that was okay with him. If they had, Graham would’ve said emphatically no, it was not okay with him. He couldn’t imagine a worse situation than one in which the customers of his diner found an excuse to stay around even longer, driving him to stand behind his grill until nearly midnight, listening to the off-key musical stylings of those who should know better.

  Some days, Graham truly hated his life.

  By the time Lana’s “crew” came through
the door, Zoey a quiet presence at their heels, the party was in full swing. From across the ridiculously packed diner, she raised an eyebrow at him as the group approached. He recognized Killian—grr—and Enzo and Haleigh, but the others were just more nameless, faceless strangers. Zoey seemed lost among them, dressed in her worn jeans and faded Wonder Woman T-shirt. She hung back, letting the rest of them order their mass of Growly Bears and food. Only when they moved off to find an empty table did she approach.

  “This was not my idea,” he assured her in greeting, indicating the cleared area that made up the makeshift stage.

  Graham winced at a particularly bad blond woman attempting a Righteous Brothers’ cover. The two backup singers with her weren’t going to be enough to save her, not when her voice entered the vicinity of a warbling screech.

  “Definitely not my idea.”

  “Why did you give them a karaoke machine?” Zoey asked, accepting the glass of water he gave her with a nod of appreciation. “It’s a truth universally acknowledged that a drunken mass who see a karaoke machine must use that karaoke machine.”

  “I didn’t. They just kept bringing one. I threw two out in the dumpster, but karaoke machines are eviler than Ouija boards. They just keep coming back.”

  At his feet, Jake whined.

  “I know, buddy. It’s breaking my ears too.”

  “Is it okay for him to be in here?” Zoey asked, noticing the tail wagging furiously next to Graham’s leg.

  “Yeah, Harold already caught me this morning. He’s not coming back anytime soon.” Graham gave her a mock worried look. “Are you going to tell on me?”

  “Depends,” she said flirtatiously. “What’s it worth to you?”

  Oh man. She was killing him.

  “We’re in trouble, Jake,” Graham murmured.

  When Jake whined in reply, Zoey headed behind the counter, kneeling down and taking Jake’s furry nose in her hands. “Don’t worry, you handsome devil, you. I’d never tell on your daddy. But I will give him a lot of crap for the horrible sounds coming out of that speaker.”

  “He gets lonely. It’s the classic, age-old fight. I’m always gone at work; he’s always stuck in the house. He thinks I’m out playing with other dogs, and it’s always a fight when I get home. If I didn’t take Jake out and show him a good time every now and then, he’d up and leave me.”

  Zoey dropped a kiss to Jake’s snout. “Sounds like you deserve it. Right, baby? Your daddy deserves it. If you were with me, I’d treat you better. No one keeps Jake in the corner. Not with your new bling. Aren’t you gorgeous?”

  “Now who’s quoting too much pop culture?”

  “Alaska is rubbing off on me.”

  “Alaska wishes.”

  Sometimes things just slipped out. Wincing at his own choice of phrasing, he glanced at Zoey out of the corner of his eye. Her cheeks had turned an adorable shade of pink, and she was clearly taking refuge behind her glasses, hand partially obscuring her face as she fiddled with them.

  “Alaska also thinks you could use a real drink. It’s on the house.”

  “I thought you didn’t give away anything for free.” Zoey shot him a cute little grin. “Especially not to those who rotate in and out of your sphere of existence without remorse.”

  “Haven’t you noticed, Zoey?” Graham moved closer, because she wasn’t the only one who could flirt. “I keep making exceptions for you.”

  Zoey declined the drink but did take a soda, a small order of fries, and Jake, insisting on paying for everything except his border collie. Graham didn’t think of himself as a hoverer or invasively nosey, but he glanced at her wallet when she counted out the bills. Even someone not paying attention could tell her cash stash was shrinking. So he snuck an antlered reindeer dog onto her plate while she focused on Haleigh’s rousing and entirely believable rendition of Katy Perry’s “Last Friday Night.” And because it was Zoey, he drew little music notes falling out of the reindeer’s open, singing mouth in ketchup.

  While Graham was busy finishing Zoey’s perfect, musically inclined dinner, Easton abandoned his own table, joining Graham at the counter. “So.”

  “So what? Hey, can you give this to Zoey? And tell the rest of them to come get their crap? It’s ready.”

  Easton gave him a look that spoke volumes. “You need to hire help.”

  “Yeah, yeah, but if someone was relying on me for their paycheck, then I’d actually have to care about this place.”

  “You mean it, don’t you?”

  Choosing not to answer, Graham split his focus between laying out a fresh set of patties and the sexy little bit in the corner. Easton came back, looking just as annoyed as when he left.

  “The one with the weird makeup made a pass at me.”

  “Who, L?”

  “No, the brunette.”

  Six feet if she was an inch, the woman in question wasn’t the first supermodel to come into his diner. Graham didn’t recognize her, and he also didn’t like how she was seated next to Zoey but wasn’t acknowledging her presence. “Eh, don’t bother, buddy. Not worth the headache.”

  “Looks who’s talking,” Easton said, making Graham frown.

  Over with Zoey, Jake was having a blast. Zoey had found his dog a seat and a pair of noise-canceling headphones. Her hands in his coat and the leash draped over her knee seemed to be all the security blanket Jake needed.

  “You jealous?”

  Looking away from her table to the hulking beast of a man standing at the counter, Graham snorted.

  “Of her? Naw, Jake still loves me.”

  “I meant of him.”

  Graham opened a bottle of beer and passed it over to his friend. “I plead the fifth. But if I don’t stop staring at her, people are going to talk.”

  “People are already talking.”

  Graham shook his head. “Great.”

  “It’s your own fault. You’ve been following her around since she came to town like she’s got a leash on both of you.”

  “Lovely imagery, buddy. My male pride thanks you.”

  Easton shrugged. “Just calling it like I see it.”

  “Zoey, Zoey, Zoey.”

  The table of awfulness began chanting her name. Poor thing’s face was bright red, and she kept shaking her head with the kind of vehemence of someone who really, really didn’t want to sing in front of a group of strangers.

  “You’re staring again,” Easton rumbled. Smug jerk had the audacity to look amused.

  “She’s a customer. I have to pay attention to my customers.”

  Even Graham wasn’t buying it. Easton took a long draw on his beer, then he said, “You’re screwed. Ash wanted me to tell you that.”

  “Thanks, man. Duly noted.”

  Leah and Collin had joined Ash and Easton’s table, along with half a dozen others who found karaoke night to be better than a movie for entertainment value. The thing was, too many of these people were so utterly convinced of their own masterfulness that they took it way, way too seriously. Every once in a while, one of his people would go up there too, a passive-aggressive mockery of those attempting to sing their hearts out.

  “Lana, I don’t want to sing!”

  “You’ll be fine.”

  “Come on, Zoey. I bet you have a great voice.” Killian squeezed her hand in encouragement.

  Graham’s own hand squeezed the ketchup bottle so hard the top popped off.

  Easton grunted. “Is he a problem?”

  Graham didn’t know. What he did know was marching over there and throwing Killian Montgomery the fifty-eighth through the window was not in his best interest. All the effort would gain him would be an embarrassed Zoey, perhaps another trip to the drunk tank with Jonah, and a potential lawsuit Graham would not win.

  But it sure was tempting.

  “Don’t let th
em bully you, Zoey Bear.” Graham popped a fry into his mouth, ignoring the curious eyes his comment drew. “They only want you up there so they don’t have to sing.”

  Lana twisted in her seat, still sipping her Growly Bear. Usually, she chugged the things, but she was milking it tonight. “Killian wants her up there because he can’t sing. I want her up there because she can.”

  “Lana, no,” Zoey insisted.

  “Come on. Your signature song. Just one song, and I will leave you alone the rest of the night.”

  “The rest of the night, Lana. You promise.”

  “I swear.”

  Grudgingly, Zoey rose and went to the cleared area, Jake’s leash in her hand. She fiddled with the microphone with her free hand, not looking anyone directly in the eye.

  Up until this point, it had subconsciously occurred to Graham that Zoey was as close to perfect as he could have imagined. And there was a very big difference between perfect and perfectly real.

  As she stood there with Jake at her feet and a shy blush on her cheeks, she was perfect. Then Zoey opened her mouth and showed Graham how real she could be.

  It wasn’t that she had a bad voice. Zoey had a good voice. Not an award-winning voice but a second row in Sunday’s choir type of voice. Pleasant. Sweet. Comforting. None of which matched her…unfortunate…choice in songs.

  Easton stopped drinking his beer, for once startled. “Is she singing—?”

  “Yeah.”

  “By—?”

  Graham tilted his head, brain trying to understand what he was hearing and seeing. “Oh, yeah. East, is this really happening?”

  “It’s happening,” Easton grunted, a note of confusion in his voice. “But I don’t think it should.”

  “Is that interpretive dance?”

  “It’s…something.” Her performance was the most glorious of train wrecks, and he couldn’t force his eyes anywhere else.

  To his credit, Jake did his absolute best to support Zoey in her current decision, adding in the kind of arr-arr-ooo’s the original artists never thought to incorporate in their music. And when the pair of misfits were done, there was a full standing ovation, with screams and cheers and pounding of hands on tables.