The Tourist Attraction (Moose Springs, Alaska #1)(84)

Sighing, Graham stepped back, settling down on a chair and holding out a hand to her. Zoey placed her fingers in his, allowing Graham to pull her onto his lap.

“Okay. Let me have it.”

“I didn’t know anything until today. Quinn let it slip that Lana had an extra room she was using as an office—”

“No, not about L. You and me first, darlin’. I did you wrong last night, so let me have it.”

When she just looked at him, Graham tangled their fingers together. “I’m so sorry, gorgeous,” he whispered. “I wanted you so much last night, and it hit me you’re leaving. I didn’t think I could deal with losing two people…friends…I care about at the same time. I was a stupid, typical guy and pushed you away. On behalf of me and my gender’s knee-jerk instincts, I am so, so sorry. You deserved better. Let me have it, Zo. I’m ready and willing.”

Instead of yelling at him, Zoey kissed him. It was the best getting chewed out by a girlfriend he’d ever experienced, and Graham’d sure had his fair share.

“Are you okay?” she asked him, running her fingers through his hair the way he loved. “About Ulysses?”

“Easton tracked him, and he’s safe.” The headache he’d never been able to shake began to ease beneath her touch. “I’m getting better by the moment.” Graham squeezed her in a careful hug. “Are we okay, Zoey? Because not seeing you or talking to you today was torture.”

Zoey hesitated for a few seconds, long enough for his stomach to end up somewhere on the floor.

“Graham, I know I’m leaving, and this isn’t what I planned either. If it means anything, whatever this is scares me too.”

Scared wasn’t what Graham wanted her to feel, especially not when she was with him. So he drew her closer, finding her soft lips and kissing them, slow, small kisses that made her melt against him. Then he deepened the kiss, all but crushing her to him.

Breathless, Zoey pulled back. “Is that your way of saying I shouldn’t be scared?”

“Screw that,” Graham murmured. “I’m terrified.”

Her laughter was a balm to his soul. Suddenly, his awful day was all okay because Zoey was there, her slender arms around his neck, holding him too.

Clever eyes found the computer sitting on the counter where he’d been working as business died down that night.

“What’s the laptop for?”

“I’m trying to balance the books. My numbers this quarter are off, but I can’t figure out why. This is the part that I suck at.”

“Hmm, I would have thought customer relations was the part you sucked at.” Glancing at him shyly, Zoey added, “I always helped with the books back at the truck stop. I can look at it for you if you want. Sometimes fresh eyes help.”

He’d let her put on ballet slippers and do pirouettes on his back if she wanted.

“Go for it. Better you than me.” As Zoey abandoned his lap for the laptop on the counter, Graham followed at her heels. “Have I ever told you how much I hate running a diner?”

“It’s come up a time or two.” She sat down, tugging the laptop closer, focusing on his spreadsheet. “For someone who hates running a diner, you’re really freaking good at it.”

His lips curved despite himself. “That’s a complete fluke. Speaking of which, are you hungry? The grill’s still hot.”

She glanced up at him, and her stomach couldn’t have timed its growl more perfectly if it had tried.

“I’m taking that as a yes?” Leaning in, Graham allowed himself the luxury of brushing one last strand out of her eyes. “We could go out somewhere if you want.”

“This late in Moose Springs?” Her eyes sparkled in the partial light of the diner. “We’d have to break into the hotel’s kitchen or go hunting.”

“There’s always Rick’s,” Graham added, knowing he’d offered to cook for her yet utterly unwilling to move away from her side.

He couldn’t keep his eyes off her. Graham knew Zoey was focused on the task at hand, but all he could focus on was how her hair kept falling into her eyes, her fingers pushing those errant strands back as she concentrated.

“It’s right here. See?” Zoey twisted his laptop, pointing at a column in his spreadsheet. “You added a zero. Unless you spent ten thousand dollars on ketchup this quarter. If you did, you might need to reconsider how many squirts you’re adding on any given Rudolph.”

“They aren’t your thing, are they?”

“They aren’t not my thing,” she hedged, a deer caught in the headlights look on her face.

“Reindeer’s an acquired taste. I’m not offended. I’ll make you a burger.” He pressed a quick kiss to her temple, the action instinctual. “There’s a secret to these.” Pulling out a small Tupperware container with beef patties, he added two to the hottest part of the grill. Graham washed his hands, then he placed one of the beer-braised reindeer dogs on the grill separate from the raw meat. “I have the local butcher make them with a special blend of spices. They’re stronger than most, which is probably why you don’t like them.”

“Are you calling my taste buds a weenie?” Closing his laptop and setting it aside, she turned on her stool to face him. Her eyes brightened. “Can I drink out of the soda gun?”