The Tourist Attraction (Moose Springs, Alaska #1)(91)

“I thought we were getting blankets,” she panted.

“That was code for ‘do you want to go make out with me in my truck?’”

“Yes. We need blankets. All the blankets. Brrr, so cold.”

He scooped her up, dropping a giggling Zoey over the side of the truck and into the bed. Without bothering with the tailgate, he swung himself over, joining her. And yes, there were several blankets tucked in there, along with a cooler and some snacks, but Zoey was far more focused on sneaking a blanket over them. She kicked off her shoes for comfort, then snuggled against him.

“Oh, it’s like that, huh?” he teased her.

“Only if you want.” She watched Graham settle his weight on his elbow next to her.

“Did you have any doubt?” A hand slid down her hip, warm and slow. “Hey there, Zoey Bear.” Somehow the greeting was far softer, far sexier than ever, his voice husky in the growing dimness.

“You’re missing the fireworks,” Zoey reminded him, a shiver of anticipation rolling up her spine.

The lightest touch of his fingertips tracing along her arm caused her to shiver all over again, even as she moved in closer.

“Are you sure you won’t miss out?” she pressed.

“You or those stinky old light shows? I’m picking you any day of the week. Although as much as I’d love a recreation of the Titanic sexy scene, I don’t think we’re going to have much privacy in here.” Graham’s eyes reflected the light of a massive multicolored firework.

“That’s what blankets are for.”

A mischievous expression spread across his handsome face. “Zoey, you keep getting better and better by the minute.”

“I bet you say that to all the girls.”

“Only the tourists. They’re a dime a dozen. What’s your name again? Ingrid? Jessica?”

He deserved the playful slap of her hand on his muscled bicep. “You’re a brat,” Zoey said. “Someone should pay me for putting up with you all this time.”

“Oh, definitely.” Then Graham dipped his head to hers. For a man who spent so much of his time pretending not to care, the careful way he slid his hand down her side, squeezing her hip before tracing the length of her leg, told her everything.

“I can’t promise we won’t have visitors any moment,” he warned her.

“I don’t care.”

He gazed down at her, hunger and a hundred other indecipherable emotions in his eyes. “Zoey? Are you sure about this?”

Graham’s thumb traced a circle around her navel, voice husky with desire. Just his thumb. So far, he’d kept his contact with her minimal, but as he opened his hand, covering her stomach with his palm, Zoey wanted to know what it felt like to be in this man’s arms, his touch unrestrained.

“I’m surer about wanting you than I’ve ever been about anything. I’m just worried about what happens after.”

Some guys would have told her that didn’t matter. If Graham had told her it didn’t matter right then, Zoey would have let him convince her. Instead, his eyes shadowed, his expression growing tight.

“Yeah. Me too.”

His hair was soft and felt good between her fingers.

“How ‘in’ are you?” she asked.

“Eighty-twenty,” Graham admitted roughly. “The eighty is ready to pull this blanket over our heads, right here, right now.”

Eighty-twenty. Which meant twenty percent of him was unsure. It shouldn’t have hurt, but for some reason, that twenty burned.

“And twenty wants to go find someone else?”

“You’re leaving, Zo. I can’t…” He hesitated. “This isn’t some summertime romance. I’m not sixteen. I need more in my life, and I can’t just fall for you.”

“I never asked you to.”

“Darlin’, you might not be asking me to. But every time you turn those gorgeous eyes my way, you’re sure as shit daring me to.”

That was as close to a declaration of his feelings as Zoey was going to get. In truth, she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear more. Graham wasn’t the only one afraid of what falling in love would do to them. He was right, this wasn’t a summertime romance. It was a couple more days, and then it would be done.

Graham Barnett would be nothing but a memory. A good memory, but like all memories, he would eventually fade.

Instinctively tightening her fingers into his arms in resistance to his loss, she looked up at him. “Graham? Can we not talk about what we can’t have and just enjoy what we do? Because this started out as the absolute worst vacation, but meeting you…”

A sweet smile eased the strain in his features. “It’s pretty awesome, right? I’m pretty cool.”

“You’re actually the biggest dork I have ever met.” Zoey leaned in and kissed him. In a soft voice, she added, “Eighty-twenty isn’t all that bad.”

“No, gorgeous. And if I were being honest, that shit’s more like eighty-five-fifteen.”

“We’re getting closer.”

Graham curled his arm under the small of her back, gently drawing her beneath him. “Ninety-two-eight,” he murmured huskily, pressing a kiss to her neck, then another to her collarbone.

“Hit ninety-three-seven, and I might pull this blanket up no matter what you say.”