The Tourist Attraction (Moose Springs, Alaska)

by Sarah Morgenthaler

  “East, buddy? I think I might love her.”

  Easton just took another pull from his beer.

  There was nothing else he could do. Raising his fingers to his mouth, Graham let out the most piercing whistle he could. “Zo-ey. You show ’em, darlin’.”

  The adorable, disturbed woman beamed at him, Jake a wriggling mass of happiness in her arms as they left the stage. Easton stared at Graham, incredulous.

  “What? I’d like to get laid again at some point in my life,” Graham muttered out of the corner of his mouth.

  The only good thing about karaoke night was the food requests slowed as the singing ramped up, and the bulk of his work was just keeping track of and serving drinks. It took a lot less time to pop open a beer bottle than it did to grill a burger, leaving Graham time to breathe every so often.

  And to think of something to say to the woman headed his direction.

  Happiness lit her features as she leaned against the counter at Easton’s elbow. “What did you think?”

  “You’re a woman of many talents, Zoey.” That was safe enough, right? But Zoey was no fool, and she narrowed her eyes until Graham cleared his throat awkwardly.

  Easton snorted but saved him. His man was predictable, and having consumed two beers and a burger, Easton rose to his feet, grabbed a chair, and dragged it to the makeshift stage.

  Zoey slipped into Easton’s vacated stool, eyes widened. “Is he going to sing?”

  “Looks like it.”

  Forearms resting on the counter, Graham mentally acknowledged his arm was too close to hers. Zoey twisted in her seat, and their shoulders bumped together. A surreptitious glance in his direction, as if she were checking to see if he minded.

  Oh, he definitely didn’t mind. What Graham minded was the inch still between them.

  Since everyone was paying attention to Easton instead of them, Graham slipped his hand between her rib cage and elbow, brushing his thumb across the inside of her elbow in silent question. She leaned into his shoulder, turning her arm into his touch. Permission granted, Graham ran his thumb gently down her arm to her wrist, then entwined their fingers.

  “That was smooth,” she murmured.

  “I have my good days every once in a while.”

  Easton’s voice had brought utter silence to the room, his deep, rumbling croon of “Blue on Black” almost as good as the original. Maybe better, in his own way.

  Zoey leaned into Graham’s shoulder throughout the song, her hair brushing his bicep. “Oh, he’s really talented.”

  “I knew it. You’re in love with Easton,” he grumbled as Easton finished the final chorus. “He gets all the women.”

  A snicker escaped her mouth, not loud but loud enough to draw the attention of half the room. Stiffening at their curious eyes, Zoey started to pull away. Tightening his hand on hers to keep her right where she was, Graham frowned at the people staring. He didn’t give a crap what the sea of strangers thought, but he did care what his people thought. And if they were going to stare, he’d stare right back.

  Lana always was good at breaking the tension. She lifted her Growly Bear up into the sky, saying cheerfully, “Graham, you dog, you.”

  “Thanks, L,” he drawled.

  “I think the cat’s out of the bag.” Biting her lower lip, Zoey glanced at him. “Is this going to be a problem for you?”

  “No, but it’s going to be a problem for anyone still staring at us in the next five seconds.”

  The growl rolling from his throat wasn’t supposed to be that harsh, but he didn’t like the way she was shifting uncomfortably from all the attention.

  “Easy, killer.” Ash rose and met them at the bar. “It’s just weird seeing you with someone.”

  “Oh, we’re not…” Drifting off, Zoey glanced down at their joined hands. “I’m on vacation.”

  “Then you better work fast.” Ash smirked at him. “Glacially slow is not going to win this race, and that one is hot on your heels.”

  Tilting her head in confusion, Zoey followed the direction of Ash’s chin nod. “Who, Killian? Oh, no. He’s…no.”

  Graham chuckled, squeezing her fingers before letting them go. “Good, because he drives me nuts.”

  “I mean, he is really hot. And if you get past the chiseled muscles and dangerously good looks—”

  Keeping the growl out of his throat wasn’t even in the realm of possibility, even though Graham knew she was just teasing him. Since the little minx was grinning openly at him, Graham didn’t feel bad at all leaning over the counter and stealing her hand again, tugging her close enough he could wrap an arm around her waist and haul her up on the counter. Zoey squeaked in surprise, then snickered as he rested his forehead against hers.

  “What are you doing later?” he murmured.

  “Making sweet love to your nemesis.”

  “I knew it.” With a dramatic sigh, Graham pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose. “Fine. Just as long as you’re both thinking of me the entire time.”

  “I mean, was there any other option?” She ran her fingers through Graham’s hair. “I’m stealing your dog.”

  “That’s not all you’re stealing.”

  Hmm. Maybe he still had a chance after all, because even a room full of strangers cheering for her singing hadn’t brought this much sparkle to her eye.

  Lana sidled up, finishing her Growly Bear as she did. “We’re moving the party to Killian’s suite,” she informed Zoey, leaving the unspoken question hanging between them. Lana didn’t seem quite her normal self, strained around the eyes and not nearly as carefree as usual. Zoey must have noticed too because she glanced at Graham.

  “I should go.”

  Graham gently tugged the end of a tendril of hair with his finger. “Sounds like a lot of fun.”

  He wanted to ask her to stay with him, but the last thing he was going to do was keep her from enjoying herself. The rest of the night went about as expected. Drunken eating. Drunken singing. Drunken selfies. A fight broke out, giving Graham an excuse to kick everyone out, then he spent a solid half hour stuffing the bulk of his glassware in the oversized commercial dishwasher in back.

  Since Ash and Easton offered to take Jake home, Graham was all alone when he closed the diner and locked the door behind him, root beer in hand. He wasn’t terribly surprised to turn around and see someone sitting on the tailgate of his truck, legs swinging. Between local kids sneaking a place to mess around and drunken…well…anyone…his poor abused truck had been molested by more than Ulysses for being alone in a dark parking lot. But instead of strangers or local teens, Graham realized his truck’s companion was none other than the woman who had carved her way into his thoughts.

  “Hey, gorgeous.” Bending down, Graham kissed her cheek without thinking about what he was doing. Then, because thinking about what he was doing didn’t seem to affect his less than stellar decisions, he added softly, “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

  “You saw me two hours ago.”

  “It was a long two hours.” This time, he kissed her other cheek.

  “What are you doing right now?” Zoey asked hopefully.

  “Hmm. I was aiming for a hot date with some woman I barely know. How about you?”

  “There’s this guy who pulled a sexy helicopter excursion out of his back pocket on me yesterday, and I was thinking of seeing if he was up for a little mischief.”

  “Mischief. Zo, you’re talking my language.” Taking a sip of his root beer, Graham asked, “What’s the game?”

  “I stole Killian’s car.”

  “What?” He choked on his drink.

  Dangling a pair of keys in front of his face, she bit her lip to keep from laughing.

  “Technically, Lana and I stole Killian’s car. He’s busy ripping Enzo a new one for being an ass to the hotel staff, so we figured that he
could deal with some cooling-off time. We were wondering if you’d like to go for a joy ride in a Lamborghini.”

  “And be an accessory to felony theft? I may have to pass on this one.”

  “That’s what Lana said you would say. She’s actually on the joyride right now. These are your keys. I just stole them too.”

  Amused, Graham offered Zoey his hand as she slid off the tailgate. She wrapped her arms around his waist, squeezing him tightly.

  “Hi.” Zoey beamed up at him.

  “Hey, gorgeous.”

  “How was work? Before all the singing tourists showed up and made you miserable. Did you have a good day?”

  Her question was so normal, so expected from two people who knew each other. And yet Graham was taken back. He couldn’t remember the last time someone asked him how work was or how was his day.

  “My day was good; my night was better. And right now is fabulous.”

  Graham wasn’t ready to fall for anyone, but her slender fingers had a grip around his heart, squeezing for all she was worth. And she didn’t even know it.

  “Where are we going?” he asked.

  If she said his place, Graham was tempted. Deeply, sorely tempted, no matter how much of a bad idea it would be. Graham knew himself, and he knew that temporary wasn’t what he needed. But when she said to hop in, Graham did exactly as she asked.

  “I heard that on clear nights, you might still get to see the northern lights, even in summer. There’s a scenic lookout not far from here that’s our best shot.”

  She sounded so excited Graham hated to tell her she was wrong. They were too far south and the summer sun too bright to see what Zoey was hoping to see.

  “Luffet and Mash again?”

  “Diego and Grass. They argued about it for a while. Diego said no, but Grass was sure he’d heard others had luck there.”

  “Trust Diego. Kid’s not seasonal; he knows what he’s talking about.”

  Still, Graham settled into the passenger seat, his arm on the back of the bench and hand lightly gripping her headrest. Zoey shifted so that her shoulder pressed into his wrist, a small movement inviting the connection growing between them. Good, because it was getting a lot harder to not scoot over, to not put his arms around her. Wanting her was grinding on his self-control almost as much as every time she glanced over at him, biting the side of her lower lip.

  “I promise I’m not taking you out there to ax murder you.”

  “I might let you, gorgeous,” Graham murmured, voice husky.

  Flushing visibly in the dim light of the wooded roadway, Zoey took a breath and a chance, her hand slipping over to rest on his leg. The combination of shyness and strength turned him on so much Graham took a deep breath of his own.

  Yeah. She was killing him.

  The lookout was a ten-minute drive up the mountain, leaving them higher than even the resort. Thick tree cover blotted out the bulk of the resort grounds, but soft twinkling lights of the town filled the basin below them.

  Zoey parked with the truck bed facing away from the view, blocking the lights as much as possible. Then they climbed in the bed. Zoey held up her stuffed Alaska bag. “Hand towel from the kitchenette as our tablecloth, check. Alaskan wilderness soundtrack on my iPod, double check. But I had to get creative with our four-course meal.”

  “You don’t actually need the soundtrack,” Graham reminded her, tugging the corner of her towel into place between them. “There are lots of noises around us.”

  “True. But can you hear…bubbling brook?” She switched the track, smiling at him. “Or eagle in sky? How about…oh, this is a good one. Moose mating call.”

  Graham lunged for the player, scrambling to turn it off. “Oh no, bad idea. The last thing we want is a lonely bull ticked off we tricked him.”

  “Oops.”

  “You keep me on my toes, darlin’.” He changed the player back to bubbling brook, turning the volume low enough she wouldn’t miss out on the natural sounds of the forest around them.

  Upending her Alaska bag, a variety of food products tumbled onto the towel. “Every day, the resort gives us these granola bars as a way to make sure we have all the snacks we need. I’ve been hoarding mine, and Lana prefers her carbs at your place or in alcohol form. These are all ours, baby.”

  Organizing her stash of food products, Zoey continued cheerfully. “We also have cookies from last night’s cookie tray, complimentary oranges and yogurt, some packets of saltine crackers, and the pièce de résistance, not one, not two, but three frozen Hot Pockets.”

  “We don’t have a microwave,” Graham reminded her, chuckling at her enthusiasm.

  “Oh, we don’t need one. They were frozen two hours ago. Now they’re lukewarm.”

  “This is disgusting.”

  “I know. But it’s so good. What do you want? Ham and cheese or the remaining pepperoni pizza? There were two, but a girl gets hungry when she’s survived a near-fatal ice cave adventure.”

  Opening his mouth to say pizza, what actually came out was, “Ham and cheese. I can’t take what you love.”

  A rosy blush filled her cheeks. “Oh, I do love them. There’s no doubt about that.”

  Leaning back comfortably against the side bed of his truck, Graham stretched his feet out in front of him, munching on a too-cold Hot Pocket, deciding it was pretty much as gross as he’d expected. But the woman across from him was munching her pizza pocket like it was high-dollar cuisine.

  “If I’d met you in college, we’d have fifteen babies by now.”

  Huh. That was one of the things he probably shouldn’t have said. But Zoey just snickered, tucking her legs beneath her.

  “Because of my choice in snack foods? You have a short list of requirements in a partner.”

  “It was a simpler time,” Graham acknowledged with a sage nod, snagging one of the bottles of water. “If I’d known we were having an impromptu picnic, I would have added to the stash. I make a mean salmon tartare.”

  “I’d rather have more reindeer dogs.”

  “Admit it. They’re growing on you.”

  “Or maybe the guy dishing them out is growing on me.” Zoey glanced at him shyly. “Yesterday, you could have dropped me. Some people would have, knowing they were slipping too, but you just held on. You saved my life. It was the bravest thing I’ve ever seen someone do. Thank you, Graham.”

  Unable to formulate a proper reply, he chose instead to pull her feet into his lap.

  “Did you know the human foot is as long as a person’s arm from elbow to wrist?” Slipping her shoe from her left foot, he placed her polar bear sock against his forearm. It was barely half the length of his arm, and her wriggling toes were tiny. “You’ve got some growing to do, Zoey Bear,” Graham murmured, covering her toes with his cupped hand.

  “Graham? Why are you single?” She gazed up at him beneath her long lashes. “You’re too nice to be this available.”

  Heart warmed at her compliment, Graham squeezed her toes.

  “Probably for a very similar reason as you. Were there no guys in Chicago that could catch your eye?”

  “Well…” Zoey hedged, and when she shifted in her seat, he could see the guilt in her eyes. “Lana’s from Chicago. It’s easier to let them think I am too.”

  “The plot thickens.”

  “I’m from Mudgeton, Illinois. It’s theoretically close to Chicago. Close enough the truck stop outside of town catches a lot of commuters. That’s how I met Lana. I was working a night shift, and she was driving to some estate a friend of hers owns outside the city. She got bored, stopped for a cup of coffee, and we got to talking. I don’t know, we just clicked.”

  Zoey’s lips curved in remembrance. “Mudgeton didn’t know what hit it when she decided to stay awhile. I didn’t even know I had a millionaire sleeping on my grandmother’s couch, eating her c
asseroles all month.”

  “Knowing L, the casseroles are what made her stay so long.” Graham pulled out his phone. “All right. I need to see this town.”

  With her feet safely tucked in his lap, there was no way for her to get the phone out of his hand.

  “Argh! Why is it that everyone has phone service up here but me?”

  “Wrong carrier. Okay, so I see. Wow. And I thought Moose Springs was small.”

  “We’re not small,” Zoey insisted. “We’re spread out. It’s a farming community, so most of the place is crops, not people.”

  “No one in Mudgeton caught your eye? No sexy farmer boys?” He waggled his eyebrows at her.

  Leaning against the side of the truck bed, Zoey sighed lustily in remembrance. “There was Derek Lowman. He was so cute, but he was too busy making an idiot of himself for the girl down the street, Cheryl Ann Parker. It was all very dramatic teenage angst. No one was left unscathed.”

  Graham was busy clicking away at his phone. “Cheryl Ann Parker… Oh. Yeah, she’s a hottie.”

  Since his phone was out of reach, Zoey tossed a package of crackers at his head.

  “Jerk.”

  “Did she end up barefoot in Derek’s kitchen?”

  “No, she ended up with a college scholarship to the Ohio State vet program.”

  “What about you?”

  Zoey hesitated, then added in a quieter voice, “I ended up waiting tables on the night shift at the Mudgeton truck stop. Twenty thousand cups of coffee later, I had enough tip money to come here.”

  “You think I’m going to judge you because you didn’t go to college?”

  Zoey gave him an awkward shrug. “Some people do. Most everyone made it out of Mudgeton. I made it to the highway and stopped.”

  “Do you know what I studied in college?”

  “It’s definitely not business management,” Zoey teased. “You’re terrible at it.”

  “The worst.” No arguments there from him. “I studied how to get kicked out of art school.”

  “Too much partying?”

  “I wish. I worked my heart out, but I wasn’t good enough. It was either change majors or limp home with my tail between my legs, so I took the money I would have spent on the rest of an art degree and opened the Tourist Trap. I didn’t want my parents and grandparents feeling like I wasted the money they worked so hard to save up to send me to school.”