The Tourist Attraction (Moose Springs, Alaska)

by Sarah Morgenthaler

  “I thought we were getting blankets,” she panted.

  “That was code for ‘do you want to go make out with me in my truck?’”

  “Yes. We need blankets. All the blankets. Brrr, so cold.”

  He scooped her up, dropping a giggling Zoey over the side of the truck and into the bed. Without bothering with the tailgate, he swung himself over, joining her. And yes, there were several blankets tucked in there, along with a cooler and some snacks, but Zoey was far more focused on sneaking a blanket over them. She kicked off her shoes for comfort, then snuggled against him.

  “Oh, it’s like that, huh?” he teased her.

  “Only if you want.” She watched Graham settle his weight on his elbow next to her.

  “Did you have any doubt?” A hand slid down her hip, warm and slow. “Hey there, Zoey Bear.” Somehow the greeting was far softer, far sexier than ever, his voice husky in the growing dimness.

  “You’re missing the fireworks,” Zoey reminded him, a shiver of anticipation rolling up her spine.

  The lightest touch of his fingertips tracing along her arm caused her to shiver all over again, even as she moved in closer.

  “Are you sure you won’t miss out?” she pressed.

  “You or those stinky old light shows? I’m picking you any day of the week. Although as much as I’d love a recreation of the Titanic sexy scene, I don’t think we’re going to have much privacy in here.” Graham’s eyes reflected the light of a massive multicolored firework.

  “That’s what blankets are for.”

  A mischievous expression spread across his handsome face. “Zoey, you keep getting better and better by the minute.”

  “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

  “Only the tourists. They’re a dime a dozen. What’s your name again? Ingrid? Jessica?”

  He deserved the playful slap of her hand on his muscled bicep. “You’re a brat,” Zoey said. “Someone should pay me for putting up with you all this time.”

  “Oh, definitely.” Then Graham dipped his head to hers. For a man who spent so much of his time pretending not to care, the careful way he slid his hand down her side, squeezing her hip before tracing the length of her leg, told her everything.

  “I can’t promise we won’t have visitors any moment,” he warned her.

  “I don’t care.”

  He gazed down at her, hunger and a hundred other indecipherable emotions in his eyes. “Zoey? Are you sure about this?”

  Graham’s thumb traced a circle around her navel, voice husky with desire. Just his thumb. So far, he’d kept his contact with her minimal, but as he opened his hand, covering her stomach with his palm, Zoey wanted to know what it felt like to be in this man’s arms, his touch unrestrained.

  “I’m surer about wanting you than I’ve ever been about anything. I’m just worried about what happens after.”

  Some guys would have told her that didn’t matter. If Graham had told her it didn’t matter right then, Zoey would have let him convince her. Instead, his eyes shadowed, his expression growing tight.

  “Yeah. Me too.”

  His hair was soft and felt good between her fingers.

  “How ‘in’ are you?” she asked.

  “Eighty-twenty,” Graham admitted roughly. “The eighty is ready to pull this blanket over our heads, right here, right now.”

  Eighty-twenty. Which meant twenty percent of him was unsure. It shouldn’t have hurt, but for some reason, that twenty burned.

  “And twenty wants to go find someone else?”

  “You’re leaving, Zo. I can’t…” He hesitated. “This isn’t some summertime romance. I’m not sixteen. I need more in my life, and I can’t just fall for you.”

  “I never asked you to.”

  “Darlin’, you might not be asking me to. But every time you turn those gorgeous eyes my way, you’re sure as shit daring me to.”

  That was as close to a declaration of his feelings as Zoey was going to get. In truth, she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear more. Graham wasn’t the only one afraid of what falling in love would do to them. He was right, this wasn’t a summertime romance. It was a couple more days, and then it would be done.

  Graham Barnett would be nothing but a memory. A good memory, but like all memories, he would eventually fade.

  Instinctively tightening her fingers into his arms in resistance to his loss, she looked up at him. “Graham? Can we not talk about what we can’t have and just enjoy what we do? Because this started out as the absolute worst vacation, but meeting you…”

  A sweet smile eased the strain in his features. “It’s pretty awesome, right? I’m pretty cool.”

  “You’re actually the biggest dork I have ever met.” Zoey leaned in and kissed him. In a soft voice, she added, “Eighty-twenty isn’t all that bad.”

  “No, gorgeous. And if I were being honest, that shit’s more like eighty-five-fifteen.”

  “We’re getting closer.”

  Graham curled his arm under the small of her back, gently drawing her beneath him. “Ninety-two-eight,” he murmured huskily, pressing a kiss to her neck, then another to her collarbone.

  “Hit ninety-three-seven, and I might pull this blanket up no matter what you say.”

  Graham kissed her, this kiss deeper, more passionate. Showing her how much he wanted her.

  “We’re at least ninety-four, six.”

  Giggling as his warm breath and the stubble from his two-day beard tickled her neck, Zoey wriggled her toes against his ankles, tugging the blanket up higher. “In that case…”

  Maybe in another time, in another place, Zoey might have been too shy to wrap her arms around his neck and kiss Graham like her life depended on it, knowing there were people who could walk by. But all eyes were turned to the massive fireworks in the sky. All eyes except for his. The only thing Graham was looking at was her.

  When Zoey’s phone buzzed in her jeans side pocket, she ignored it, far too focused on the warm kisses trailing a path from her pulse point to the base of her neck. It rang again, then once more.

  “The one time my phone actually works up here…” She reached into her pocket and turned it off without looking at the screen.

  Lips curving against her skin, Graham wrapped his hand around her hip, pulling her tighter to his muscled form. In Zoey’s world, the low fifty-degree temperatures were cool, just on the shy side of chilly, but Graham was born and bred Alaskan. She doubted he even noticed anything above thirty. She slipped her hands beneath the hem of his shirt, sliding her palms across his stomach before tugging lightly at the piece of clothing between them.

  “It’s like that, is it?”

  “Mm-hmm. I’m curious.”

  “You and me both.” His voice deepened with desire as his eyes scraped down her form. Reaching behind his neck, he grabbed the back of his shirt and tugged it over his head, tossing it off to the side. The sight of cut abdominal muscles and a broad, muscled chest greeted her. A little sigh of lust escaped her throat.

  “I’m so disappointed,” she teased, because there was no way she could be. He made a low noise of masculine approval when her fingernails dug into his hard sides, tugging him back down to her. When his thumb slid along the hem of her shirt, she leaned into his touch.

  “We still good?” Graham checked.

  “Perfect,” Zoey breathed.

  His palm spread across her stomach, eyes meeting hers. “Fair’s fair.”

  A massive, sky-covering firework exploded above their heads, casting them both in a flash of brilliant white light, the boom rattling his truck. Jerking at the sudden explosion, Zoey realized she had pressed into him instinctively. Particularly one specific part.

  If Graham was startled to find her breast abruptly in his hand, he handled it well.

  “I was going to take this slow, but by
all means. Lead the way.”

  Waggling his eyebrows suggestively, Graham ran a skilled thumb over the side of her breast. Unable to keep from giggling at his antics, Zoey sidled out of her own shirt, hoping that his warmth and the blanket would save her from freezing any of her own dangly bits.

  She wasn’t sure what to expect, but when Graham buried his nose between her breasts and began making rooting, animal noises, she dissolved into helpless giggles. Recognizing the pleased expression on his face, Zoey shook her head, heart full.

  “I love you,” she said.

  The hands on her went still. When she realized her word choice, Zoey bit her lip, wondering if she’d messed things up.

  “I mean, I love this. Being around you.”

  Graham’s expression was hard to read, and the dim light didn’t help much. But when he ran his palm soothingly down her breastbone, Zoey knew it would take more than a wrong—if true—word to screw up whatever this was between them.

  He gazed down at her as if memorizing her features.

  “Me too.”

  This time, when he bent his head to hers, all jokes between them gave way to even better things.

  * * *

  If she’d had any idea how beautiful she looked, wrapped up in his arms and smiling up at him, nose crinkled, Zoey would have grabbed her blanket and found a better man in a better truck bed to spend her evening with.

  Somehow, she’d chosen him, and Graham was trying to keep his gut reactions in a choke hold. Then she’d busted out that word.

  The word.

  And he didn’t blame her one bit, because Graham was pretty sure he loved…this…too.

  Messing around in his truck was beyond fun, but fun was quickly being replaced with a series of emotions he did not want to share with anyone who might happen to walk past their secluded parking spot.

  Now his damn phone wouldn’t stop buzzing. So far, he’d managed to successfully distract her, but at some point, it was going to be more than a little inconvenient.

  “Zo.”

  “Hmm?”

  Groaning, Graham nipped her lower lip, because not doing so seemed so wrong. “Any chance we can take this back to your place? It’s closer.”

  “Depends on if you tossed my keycard in the grass next to my bra.”

  Lips curving, he nipped her neck this time, then each of her fingertips. “That wasn’t me.”

  “I’m pretty sure it was.”

  “Definitely not. L’s at a thing, right? The thing we’re invited to go to that we don’t want to go to?”

  Her breath caught, and Graham decided they definitely needed to take this back to her place.

  “I can get a new keycard. Grass likes me.”

  “Grass hates me.”

  “You probably deserve it.”

  In the end, they found her keycard after hunting for their clothes. Hastily dressing, they snuck up to the resort. The interior of the hotel was empty, with all the guests and employees outside watching the fireworks. The elevator took twice as long as it should have to reach her floor, or maybe that was just Graham’s impatience getting the best of him. Arm around her shoulders, Graham held open the door for Zoey after she unlocked it with trembling fingers. Graham felt the same. His hands might not be trembling, but his entire body was tensed with anticipation. Wanting her was killing him, especially when she kept stealing glances at him from the corner of her eye, unconsciously wetting her lower lip.

  Unable to keep his eyes off her mouth, Graham stole her hand as soon as the door closed behind her, pulling her back into his arms. The room was dark, lit only by the low summer light and the fireworks still exploding above the mountainside through the windows. The view was incredible, but all Graham could see was her.

  “Are you sure, Zo?” He had to ask one more time because more than her fingers were trembling now. “We can take this slow.”

  “I’m trying not to attack you,” Zoey replied, breathless. “How am I doing so far?”

  When her hands slid beneath his shirt, tracing his abdominal muscles, Graham groaned, capturing her mouth. Fingers kneading into her hips, he whispered against her lips.

  “Bed or couch, gorgeous?”

  “Both,” she breathed. “Or the window. The shower. Maybe the elevator.”

  Not asking her to marry him right then and there was only possible because his hands and mouth were currently otherwise occupied.

  They were halfway to the couch when Graham heard a small noise that didn’t belong. Disengaging Zoey’s hands from him, he pulled her behind him protectively, scanning the suite for something out of place.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I heard something.”

  Not something. Someone. As he stepped closer to the partially open door to Lana’s bedroom, he saw movement next to the bed. This time, the noise was a small sniffle, feminine and familiar in tone.

  “It’s L.”

  Zoey pushed past him, turning on a light and making a little noise of distress in her throat.

  For the first time since he’d met her, Lana looked rough. She’d been crying, her face and eyes reddened. Hair a mess and clothing—

  With a growl of instant rage, Graham realized her clothing was dirty, as if she’d fallen, and there was a scratch on her arm.

  “Who did this?” he demanded. “Did someone hurt you?”

  “Graham, give her space. Lana, what happened?”

  “It doesn’t matter. Just a small disagreement, and then I tripped.” Lana tried to give them a breezy grin, but it fell flat. “Did you two crazy kids have fun on your date?”

  Her shaking hands would have given her away even without her makeup running down her cheeks in thick streaks. Taking Lana’s hands in her own, Zoey sat close.

  “Lana, it’s okay. You can tell us.”

  “Word about the condos has spread. It appears not everyone is happy about my little investment project.” Sniffling again, Lana raised her chin defiantly. “But I refuse to be intimidated.”

  “Who was it, L? Did you recognize them?”

  “No, but that nice boy from town stepped in. The place with the pool tables.”

  “Rick?” Zoey asked quietly. Lana nodded.

  “He should have done more than step in,” Graham decided, incensed. Taking Lana’s wrist, he gently turned her arm. “That’s a bad scratch you have there. Rick should have gotten you medical attention.”

  “I told him I was fine. I don’t need a man to hover over me when I’m more than capable of taking care of myself.”

  Even as she said it, Graham noticed the empty bottle of wine on the nightstand. She might not need a man, but it was clear she was distraught, half-drunk, and needed a friend.

  “Graham, we need to get her cleaned up.”

  Curling her arm over his shoulders, Graham locked his arm around Lana’s waist. Zoey did the same, although the height difference between the two women wasn’t going to make it easy for her to help.

  “I got her,” Graham promised. “Okay, let’s get you somewhere more comfortable. Upsy-daisy.”

  Picking her up, Graham carried Lana to the bathroom, carefully setting her on the vanity counter next to the sink. “You didn’t take anything with that wine, did you, sweetie?”

  Lana glanced at him guiltily. “Nothing worth talking about.”

  “Let me guess, more baby aspirin.” Sighing, he kept a steadying arm around her as Zoey found a washcloth. It must have stung when they scrubbed the dirt and debris from the scratches on her arm, but Lana was tough. Other than clenching her teeth, she ignored it.

  “Was this down in town?” Keeping her voice soft so as not to pressure Lana. “Or was it somewhere on the grounds?”

  Staying quiet for a long time, Lana finally whispered, “I went down to the lake because I wanted to talk to you two. I didn’
t want you to be mad at me.”

  “We weren’t parked with the others. Zo and I were aiming for some alone time.”

  Graham leaned a hip into the counter next to her, taking Lana’s face in his hands. In all their years of steadily growing friendship, he’d never seen her like this. Wiping the tears from her eyes, Graham waited until she was able to look up at him.

  “I’m not happy with you, sweetie, but my guess is you won’t be happy with me either. But it’s not going to change how much you matter to me. I’m not the kind of guy that bails on my friends. Okay?”

  She nodded, accepting a tissue from Zoey to blow her nose.

  Graham waited for her to compose herself, then continued. “Here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to take a deep breath, then you’re going to tell me what happened. And then Easton and I will take care of it.”

  “It’s not your problem,” she whispered. “I can take care of myself.”

  “I know. I’ve been watching you for a long time now, and I believe you’re capable of anything. But this place here? This is just a bunch of sticks and concrete glued to a mountain pretending to be far more important than it actually is. It’s not real, L, and neither are the people. It’s not worth getting hurt for, and it sure isn’t worth protecting anyone for.”

  Zoey put a warning hand on his arm. “Graham, not now.”

  “I’m just saying—”

  “Say it later, okay? Not now. Look, she’s half-out as it is.”

  Zoey wasn’t wrong. Lana had started to sway, her eyes glazing. The combination of alcohol and who knew what else was quickly taking her down for the count.

  “Should we call a doctor?” he asked Zoey, wrapping an arm around Lana’s shoulders.

  “No, she’s done this before when she was upset. I don’t know what she takes, but it helps her calm down.” Voice clipped, Zoey took Lana’s shoes off. “Help me get her to bed?”

  “Did I do something to upset you?” Graham couldn’t imagine what, but he wasn’t imagining her teeth clenched tightly together or the way Zoey wouldn’t look directly at him. He chose instead to focus on the woman currently falling asleep against his shoulder.