The Tourist Attraction (Moose Springs, Alaska #1)(29)



“You’d think they’d never seen us on a date before, Jake.”

“This isn’t a date. Well, not with you. Jake still has a shot.”

“You get all the ladies, don’t you, buddy?” Graham sighed mournfully. “It’s just not fair. You were born with all the looks, and I got stuck with the charm. Turn left up there.”

“I can’t tell if you’re the most confident or most self-deprecatingly insecure human being I’ve met.”

Chuckling, Graham closed his eyes. “Tell me when we get there.”

A couple of hard steps on the brakes later, Graham finished giving Zoey directions to the modest, two-story strip mall downtown. The bottom three units were easily identified, with signs hanging for all the world to see: the local daycare, a family law office, and the town’s life-weary therapist. Upstairs were three more units, two with newspapers covering their windows and one with a simple unmarked door.

There wasn’t a single person in town unaware of the culinary bliss housed in the far-right unit. But like all the other tourists, Zoey’s eyes went to the signed units first.

“Is it weird those businesses are together?”

“It’s strategic. Kirk thought it was clever to set up right where the stressed-out, new parents dropped off their kids. But then he got divorced three years ago and quit trying to save everyone else’s marriages out of spite. So Catey opened up her law firm right in between. Of course, the bulk of us just go upstairs to Frankie’s and eat our feelings.”

“You know a lot of people, don’t you?”

“I know the whole town.” Graham got out of the truck, setting Jake and a collapsible bowl in the bed. He always kept a jug of water in the back seat just for this purpose, and he made sure the water was where his pup could find it.

“Stay, Jake. The lady and I will be back soon. Sorry, but no dogs in this establishment. We’ll hang out at the Trap later.”

Zoey blinked in surprise. “Are you allowed to bring him to your diner?”

“Nope, not at all.”

A soft laugh matched the sparkle in her eyes. “But you still do.”

Running a hand over Jake’s floppy ears, Graham looked down at his friend. “Wouldn’t you? Sometimes he stays with his aunt Ash and uncle Easton so he doesn’t get too bored. They have a cute little pit bull he’s sweet on. Right, buddy? How any of the ladies could say no to you is beyond me.”

When he looked up, he saw Zoey watching him. The scent of baking bread hit them in a wave, causing Zoey to inhale deeply, her eyes fluttering closed. “Cinnamon rolls?”

“Unless you’d rather try couple’s counseling.” Smiling at her sigh of pleasure, Graham led her to the stairs around the side of the building. “Right this way.”

The bake shop didn’t sell egg-free omelets, but Graham hadn’t lied about cinnamon rolls the size of a person’s head. The pans of sugary deliciousness were lined up for them to see, although half of those trays had been emptied by earlier customers.

“We should have hurried, Zoey.”

“Why does this place smell so familiar?”

“They source the bread for my place. Speaking of, hey there, Frankie.”

The Native Alaskan woman behind the counter waved a hand at him in greeting, hustling around to take and fill the orders.

“Frankie, this is Zoey. She’s a friend. Zoey, ignore what Frankie says. She loves me dearly.”

“Depends on the day,” Frankie joked.

Frankie gave Zoey a friendly but wary smile. Which Graham completely understood. He felt the same way with the strangers always wandering his town. But unlike Frankie, Graham was rarely nice to them. Zoey was an exception.

She looked around, taking it all in. “Your store looks amazing.”

“Remind this one,” Frankie teased. “He’s always on me for more bread, more bread.”

“Not my fault.” Leaning comfortably against the counter, he watched Zoey explore the bakery. Frankie watched her too, curiosity growing. “Frankie’s family has been here—”

“Forever.” The bakery owner nodded at Graham. “Before the Barnetts arrived here. They’ve been thorns in our sides for four generations.”

Frankie flicked her eyes toward Zoey, then raised a curious eyebrow. “A tourist, Graham? So the rumors I’ve been hearing are true?”

“Lies, all of it. But yeah, Zoey’s good people,” Graham promised, vouching for the woman busy doing math problems in her head. She pulled out her travel book to confirm something before turning back to him, excited.

“So you’ve been here since the late 1800s? That was when Moose Springs was founded. Did your families build this town?”

“You’re not going to find everything worth knowing in a travel book, Zo.” Graham put his hand to the small of her back, smiling down at her. “You want anything else?”

“Besides the monster pastry? I’m good.” Without warning, Zoey started to crack up. Turning to follow her line of sight, Graham spied a pair of antlers very slowly rising in the window behind them. A massive lip wiggled into view, rubbing a wet smear across the clean glass.

Chuckling, Graham walked over to the window, catching Zoey’s hand in his and drawing her with him. “This is Ulysses.”

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