The Tourist Attraction (Moose Springs, Alaska #1)(36)

*

They didn’t give Zoey her money back. They did, however, give her a stern lecture about respect for the rules and the group and how leaving endangered not only herself but everyone on the trail.

Standing up for herself worked about as well as it ever did. There was just something about her that made people not take her seriously, which was super annoying when Zoey was not at fault here.

Her excuse—the horse made me do it—only would have worked if the riding outfit wasn’t convinced Mugs was the best horse on the planet and would never do what she was suggesting. Unsaddled and turned out to pasture by the time Zoey was done not getting reparations, the horse eyeballed her from around his mouthful of grass as she drove past.

“Well played, sir,” she muttered. “Well played.”

Once back at the resort, she met up with Lana and her cousin, who were just returning from the Tourist Trap. Both seemed to find the entire thing far funnier than she had. The closest either Montgomery got to sympathy was Killian saying he’d treat everyone to a night out on the town. Other than showering the smell of horse off her, Zoey had nothing better to do, so she agreed.

If anyone had asked, Zoey could have told them they wouldn’t be welcome at the small pool hall just off the main street running through town, the one with only the tiniest “open” sign in the window. She didn’t even know why they were there until she realized Lana had noticed the receipt Graham had written the car rental information on. But Killian and his crew were determined to do something “fun,” and in cruising the tiny town in his sleek black Lamborghini, nothing else so far had sufficed. Rick’s it would be.

Zoey didn’t know if he actually found a place to rent the thing or if Killian’s Lamborghini was shipped in for him to use, but either way, she felt more than awkward parking her rental car near his. She nearly lost a hip when Haleigh whipped into the spot next to them, squealing her Porsche SUV to a stop.

“I didn’t realize they even made Porsche SUVs,” Zoey murmured, earning an amused look from Lana as they headed toward the unmarked building, noticeable only for the number of cars out front and the sound of music playing inside.

Inside, the building was exactly what a dive pool hall should be, complete with dark wood paneling and a short bar at the far end of the room. Nearly every table was full, and the air smelled of pizza and thinly veiled hostility. Walking into Rick’s was like walking into the high school lunchroom at a new school. Everyone looked, but not one looked happy.

“Someone spilled the beans.”

The smooth, masculine rumble was familiar. The sharp edge to that smooth voice was not.

“Don’t be a grump, Graham,” Lana said breezily. “It’s a free country.”

Despite Zoey’s heels, she was still shorter than her companions and had to crane her neck to see the owner of the grumbling voice.

In a room full of strangers, Graham Barnett was a sight for sore eyes. Or just regular eyes. All eyes. All eyes enjoyed Graham Barnett, especially in dark jeans and a snug black T-shirt.

He’d pulled a ball cap down over his hair, cell phone and leather wallet tucked in his back pocket, and Zoey couldn’t keep herself from staring at the broad expanse of his muscled shoulders as Graham bent over his group’s pool table, taking—and making—a shot.

“It’s free, but sometimes it feels a little crowded, L.”

“We can leave.” Zoey touched Lana’s arm to get her attention. “There’s plenty of other things to do.”

Graham blinked, then the annoyed expression was gone, instantly replaced by the sweetest, sexiest smile.

“Of course, some crowds are better than others.” Abandoning the table, even though it was still his turn, Graham approached, smiling down at her. “Hey there, Zoey Bear. I thought I might have to go back to the big house to see you again.”

“How are you feeling?” Lowering her voice so as not to announce anything embarrassing to the people around them, Zoey glanced down—then very quickly back up again. “You know…there.”

“In my balls? Where you kicked me?”

His voice was so loud. Graham’s cheerfulness was infectious, but the attention they were receiving with his antics made Zoey want to disappear beneath the plank flooring.

“You kicked yourself in the balls,” she shot back. “I have the police report to prove it.”

“So do I.”

Graham leaned in and took her completely by surprise with an unexpected hug in greeting. The hug was brief, just his palm touching her upper back for a moment, hers braced awkwardly on his muscled arm and the pool cue wedged in between them for safety.

Still, he was warm and smelled like buns.

Crap. She was as bad as Ulysses.

“It’s good to see you, darlin’.”

“Thanks for not having a chainsaw in your hands,” Zoey quipped in reply.

“Don’t knock my preferred art form.” Lingering just a moment in their still awkward hug, Graham added, “One day, I’ll be famous.”

“You already are, love. For all the wrong reasons.” Lana set a hand to her hip, raising an eyebrow at Zoey. “Are you playing with us or playing with the handsome boy tonight? I know it’s been a while for you.”

One of Graham’s companions tried to cough to cover a snort. Could her cheeks be any hotter? Zoey’s entire front side was on fire from embarrassment.