The Tourist Attraction (Moose Springs, Alaska #1)(56)

“Come on, man. Catch me a break. I don’t want to get stomped on today.”

Abruptly, the moose spun, darting across the back parking lot and into the road. Gasping at the speed of his escape as much as the power of the massive animal, Zoey watched vehicles slow down for him. Ulysses ran alongside the road for several strides before cutting across, bolting for the protection of the forested mountainside.

“How fast was he going?”

“Maybe twenty-five, thirty miles per hour at the most. They’ve clocked ’em at thirty-five, but he’s like me. Too lazy to invest that much effort.”

Even as he said it, Graham opened her car door and started proactively searching through the driver’s side, checking the door pockets and under the seat.

“I already looked,” she said, defeated. “It’s not there. I drove you home, and—”

“And my dog was in your back seat.” Graham crawled in the back, wedging himself awkwardly so he could reach beneath the back of the seats. “Jake loves anything and everything he can get his cute little paws on. It’s as if he instinctively knows things are shiny, even though he can’t see them. Like…yep.” With a flourish, Graham lifted her sparkly green frog coin purse. “My dog hid it for a rainy day. Don’t feel bad. He buries my crap in the truck all the time.”

Zoey opened the purse, checking to make sure it was all there, not out of suspicion but from the need to reassure herself. Graham watched her counting with sympathetic eyes as she leaned against the side of the SUV.

“I can’t believe I spent all morning eating my heart out over this when I was sitting on it the entire time.”

“I’m sorry Jake caused you to be so worried. But everything’s better now, right?” he asked, cupping her face in his hands.

“Yeah.” Blinking rapidly at his kindness, Zoey stared at his chest, feeling so lost. So alone.

“Not really better, huh?” Strong fingers wiped away her tears.

“I just need to readjust my expectations.”

“Maybe. Or maybe you need to have this place cut you a break. Come on. It’s almost the end of lunch.” Graham led her back into the diner and flipped the closed sign. “All right, everybody out. I’m closed until dinner.”

“Finally.” Easton expelled a heavy breath from his place behind the grill, looking beyond ridiculous in an apron several sizes too small. Pointing a large finger at Graham, he growled, “You. Hire someone.”

“Yeah, but then they’d have to work for me. And I’d feel guilty about shoving everyone out the door.”

As Easton stalked out of the restaurant, muttering to himself, Graham turned to the other patrons. “Hey, this is not a drill, people. The Tourist Trap is closed. Please head to the closest exit in whatever disorderly fashion you prefer. If I hurt your feelings, remind me tomorrow, and I’ll give you a free…I don’t know…something.”

“Fries?” a hopeful patron asked.

“Sure, free fries. Just get out of my diner.”

Watching the grumbling masses shuffle out, Zoey shook her head. “I don’t understand how you stay open.”

“Neither do I.” Graham sighed mournfully as he prepped something behind the counter. “The harder I try, the worse it gets.”

“Most people would kill for a thriving restaurant.”

“Yes, but most people aren’t us.” Setting an iced tea and plate in front of her, Graham leaned on the counter between them. “And I know you don’t like them, but here. Eat something.”

“I don’t not like them. I just don’t like them. They’re growing on me.”

The reindeer dog had antlers like always, but this time, he’d drawn a little sad face on the reindeer. Despite her wet cheeks and puffy eyes, Zoey couldn’t help but exhale a soft laugh. She pulled her glasses off and set them on the table, scrubbing roughly at her eyes and wiping away the remains of her embarrassing meltdown.

“I’m sorry about out there. I kind of got all—”

“Real? Validly upset?” Graham came around the counter to sit next to her, dropping a basket of fries in between them. “Zoey, do you know how many times just this summer I’ve watched someone have a complete meltdown over something completely stupid? Like chipped paint on a sports car’s undercarriage after someone drove on gravel roads. Stupid. Complete freak-out.”

“If you’re trying to make me feel better, you’re doing a really good job at it.”

Zoey smiled at Graham. Or she smiled in the direction of Graham. Her glasses were still on the table. Unable to resist the allure of fresh fries, she let her nose guide her hand.

“Can I wear these?”

She guessed he had picked up her glasses. “You’re seriously the weirdest person I’ve ever met.”

“I’m not the one with a coin purse that looks like a bedazzled frog princess. How do I look?”

“I’d have to put them on to tell you.”

“You’re blind as a bat, aren’t you? I bet they couldn’t make contacts thin enough to fit this prescription in your eyeballs.”

“Now you’re just being mean. And I like my glasses.”

“Yeah, me too.” Chuckling that low, warm rumble of his, Graham carefully set them back on her nose. “I like a lot about you, gorgeous.”