The Tourist Attraction (Moose Springs, Alaska #1)(66)

“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.”