Feeling her stomach sink, Zoey went back to the bench. She sat down with her now lopsided sandwich in her hand, blinking back tears of sheer frustration. Graham’s smile slipped, his eyes and tone softening. “Hey. I was just kidding.”
She shook her head, drawing her knees up to her chest. “My stupid cell phone literally only works at your restaurant and if I’m standing on my left foot in the shower in our hotel room.”
“Yeah, that happens to a lot of visitors. If you have the wrong carrier, you’re not going to get reception for crap up here.” Graham passed her his cell phone. “L’s number is in there. The security code to unlock it is one, one, one, one.”
“You’re kidding.”
A curve of his lips was his only reply. Murmuring a thanks, Zoey unlocked the phone and found Lana’s name, although she half expected him to have her listed as the single letter. The lump of ham and cheese in her now occupied fingers slipped and fell next to her foot as she made the call. Zoey absently picked it up and set it on the bench between her and Graham as Lana’s phone went to voicemail.
“Lana, this is Zoey. I’m in—”
“Jail,” Graham provided.
“It’s not jail. It’s a holding pattern. I’m in a holding pattern, and I need you to come pick me up. I don’t even know where this place is, but it’s a tiny little pretend police station on the far side of town, and my phone won’t work in here. Please, call me on Graham’s phone. Or just come down here.”
Handing the phone back to Graham, Zoey exhaled a sigh of relief. Feeling his eyes on her, she glanced over at him. “What?”
“Are you going to eat that?”
“It was on the floor.”
“It was wrapped.”
With a sigh, Zoey passed him the sandwich. Destroying it in several large bites, Graham left his ice pack on the bench and went to the entrance of the drunk tank. Raising his voice, Graham smacked his forearm on the bars hard enough to cause a loud bang to echo through the building. “Yo, Jonah. Hey, buddy, speed it up. She needs out of here.”
Then Graham sat down next to her, and—much to Zoey’s surprise—he offered his hand to her, palm up. “I’m scared,” he said in way of explanation.
Rolling her eyes, Zoey huffed a soft laugh. “Yeah, I bet.” Still, at his gentle smile, Zoey found herself pressing her sweaty, nervous hand against his ice-chilled one.
Zoey waited, but Lana never showed up. However, Jonah returned, a concerned expression on his face.
“I have bad news. I talked to the chief in Anchorage. Assault is something the DA takes very seriously. She wants me to take you to Anchorage and book you. The DA is pressing charges.”
Shooting to her feet, Zoey shook her head, alarmed at the turn of events. “It wasn’t assault. He didn’t actually attack me.”
The police officer cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Actually, ma’am, you’re the one being charged with assault. And breaking and entering.”
“I was hiding from Reindeer Dog Jason over here!” She pointed at him indignantly.
“Plus trespassing. You might want to call yourself a lawyer. Unless…well…we got the wrong of things.”
A look passed between Jonah and Graham.
“What do you mean?”
Graham never once glanced at Zoey as he said in a firm voice. “I kicked myself in the balls.”
Zoey stared at him, but Graham continued to hold Jonah’s eyes, dipping his chin just a little in a silent signal she didn’t understand.
“I kicked myself,” Graham repeated. “All this was on me. Zoey was just visiting, and I was showing her some of my art. Then I kicked myself in the balls, and she went inside to call for help for me.”
Jonah thought about it, thought about it some more, and then he sighed. “Well, I suppose this was all a misunderstanding. Right, ma’am?”
Graham nudged her in the rib cage with his elbow. “Right, Zoey Bear?”
“If Graham kicked himself…we’re free to go?”
“Yes, but I feel obligated to remind you, ma’am. We’re a small town of good people. Just because some of us can be convinced to kick ourselves doesn’t mean we should have to.” Without further ado, Jonah opened the door. “Have a nice day.”
No one needed to tell her twice. Zoey bolted. Graham followed at a more leisurely pace, stopping to chat with the officer while Zoey headed outside, once more trying to get reception long enough to check her voicemail. Maybe Lana called and she’d missed it?
As Zoey sat on the edge of the sidewalk outside the tiny concrete building, still trying to find a reception sweet spot, their voices filtered out to her.
“They cause more trouble than they’re worth.” Jonah’s pleasant drawl was heavy with annoyance. “Each new batch is worse than the last.”
“This was actually an accident, man. Don’t hold it against her.”
“If she wasn’t so pretty, you wouldn’t be okay with this. Not like you to get pulled into their kind of drama.”
“Maybe, but she’s different.” A snort brought a flush of color to her cheeks. “She is, Jonah. I don’t know, I just think she’s a cut above the rest.”
Now, in Zoey’s life, she had worked her heart out and her fingers to the bone for every single thing she had. She was proud of herself and the accomplishments she had achieved. But she couldn’t remember a single time a stranger had said something like that.
A cut above the rest.
Nothing in their interaction thus far should have given this man a good opinion of her. Confused, Zoey watched as Graham Barnett left the station, still walking gingerly as he whistled to himself. He headed to his truck, climbing in with care. Even though she heard the engine start, he stayed parked. After a few moments, he killed the engine and got out again, joining her.
“I could be completely wrong, but my gut tells me L’s not coming, darlin’.”
“She’s coming.”
Even Zoey didn’t believe herself.
Her spot on the sidewalk couldn’t have been easy for him to sink down to. Yet there he was, settling in on cement when it probably hurt terribly, careful not to sit too close. Whatever else he might be, Graham Barnett was kind. Kind enough to hold her hand in the holding cell. Kind enough to lie to keep her from being arrested. Kind enough to care about a stranger not having a ride.
Guilt squeezed like lemon juice on her frayed nerves.
“I tried to call her a couple times. L’s not picking up for me either. I’m not saying she won’t come get you. I just think it might be a while.”
Sighing, Zoey stood. “You’re probably right.”
Glancing at him, feeling stress and guilt twist her stomach into knots, Zoey added softly, “I’m sorry I hurt you. Thank you for not letting me run off the cliff, and thank you for helping me in there. If you have any medical bills, please send them to me.”
Nodding in acknowledgment, Graham climbed back up to his feet.
“It’s a long walk back to the resort. Jonah’s squad car gets better gas mileage than tennis shoes, but he might be a while. There’s a lot of paperwork to go along with our festivities this morning. I don’t know how much you remember about last night, but I got you home safe and sound once. If you don’t mind, I bet I can do it again.”
“I think this tourist has trapped you in enough of her drama for one vacation.” Offering him a tight smile, she added, “But if I could use your phone to call a cab, I’d appreciate it. Then you’ll never have to set eyes on me again.”
“That would be a shame.”
An odd expression crossed his face, as if Graham hadn’t planned on saying that. Then he held out his phone in one hand and his keys in the other, offering her the choice of either.
“It’s up to you. But if I make you nervous, you can drive.” Graham jingled the keys enticingly. “I’ll even sit in the bed. No chance
of mischief.”
“What if I steal your truck? Or worse? Women are capable of dismembery-type hijinks too, you know.”
“Then at least I went out with a good story. Red pill or blue pill?”
Zoey tapped her fingers on his hand, the one holding the keys. “You drive. My nerves are shot. I could use another Growly Bear about now.”
“You and me both.”
The truck was a newer model, but something had damaged the side door enough to give Zoey pause.
“Do I want to know what happened to your mirror?”
“Unrequited love. Okay, back to the big house. They’re going to start charging me parking if I keep going there.”
When he started up the engine, Zoey noticed the time flashing on the Dodge’s dashboard. “I thought you had a diner to open. Aren’t you going to be late?”
“We’re past lunch, and I close between lunch and dinner. A few hours away from the insanity helps me keep my calm. Besides, I need to call Jake and make sure he hasn’t abandoned me for my friend and her far more exciting lifestyle. Ash is a helicopter pilot.”
“Who’s Jake?”
“The cool customer in the sock hat on my screen saver.” Like a proud parent, he tilted his phone her way, showing a black-and-white snout on the cutest border collie in existence. “You should meet sometime. He’s a great listener.”
Her lips curved despite herself. “What do you do when you’re not working?”
“Sometimes I sit out back and read. Sometimes I go home and—” Clearing his throat, Graham glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “Mass murder people.”
Zoey groaned. “I said I was sorry.”
“I know, but it’s fun making you say it again.” Chuckling, he turned onto the next street over. “I carve sculptures in my free time, what little of that I have these days. That’s what the chainsaw was for.”
“What were you carving?”
“You ask a lot of questions.”
“I’m working up the courage to ask why you’re not furious with me.”
As they stopped at a red light, Graham gazed down at her, his tone softening. “Because you were scared, Zoey. I’m not going to hold that against you. Accidents happen.”
The light switched to green, but his eyes swept her features. Biting her lower lip, Zoey stared back, wondering just what she was doing.
A car blared its horn right behind them, jerking her back to reality. Graham glanced in the rearview mirror, frowning. “Damn tourists.”
The moment broken, he pressed on the gas, deliberately driving slower than necessary to aggravate the person behind him.
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“Absolutely. See that little orange sticker in the top corner of their windshield? It means they’re in a rental car. There’s tons of similar things planted all over town so we know who to avoid.”
“And who to mess with?”
A smug expression was his answer. They turned a corner, driving past the Tourist Trap. “See how I don’t have a sign? No one should have known about my place. It was supposed to be locals only. When your town is overrun by tourists, sometimes you just want to get away from them.”
“And yet you keep getting stuck in close quarters with me.”
Graham shook his head. “Who visits Alaska and doesn’t rent a car? We’re not exactly known for how little this state is.”
“Lana said she had a car we could share.” Scrubbing at her forehead with the back of her hand, Zoey refused to look at him. “I’m not stupid, you know. I just thought…”
“She would be a reliable traveling companion?” Graham didn’t seem convinced. “L’s sweet, and she’s got a big heart, but she’s the walking epitome of good intentions, questionable follow-through.”
“Lana isn’t usually this distracted. She’s got an event she’s planning,” Zoey said in her defense.
Graham snorted, unconvinced.
“After today, I’ll probably rent my own car. I didn’t budget for it, but…” She drifted off, unwilling to add that relying on strangers for kindness wasn’t a great transportation plan.
They pulled up to the resort, but Graham set the truck in park a few truck lengths away from the valet station. Turning in his seat, he rested his elbow on the seat back between them.
“That’s twice you’ve let me give you a lift, Zoey. If I didn’t know better, I might think you were sweet on me.”
His waggling eyebrows were so comical, Zoey couldn’t help her small laugh. “Oh, trust me. That’s not anywhere close to what’s happening right now.”
Sighing playfully, Graham rifled through the center console of his truck and pulled out a faded receipt.
“If you decide to get yourself a rental, call this place. They’re local, not all the way back in Anchorage, and my cousin Collin owns the place.” Graham wrote a name on the back of the receipt, handing it to her. “Ask for his wife, Leah. Tell her I sent you, or Collin will add the tourist reverse discount.”
Smiling in gratitude, Zoey stuffed the receipt in her pocket. “Thanks.”
“Hey, Zoey.”
“Yeah?”
“Next time you want me all to yourself, just ask. No need for the violence.”
Stepping out of the truck, Zoey couldn’t help but joke. “Yep, lesson learned.”
He waited until she almost closed the door, then called out, “Hey, Zoey? Zooo-ey.”
“Yes?”
“You really should call me. L’s got my number.”
Zoey shook her head. “I would, but I’m a tourist. Oil and water, local boy. Besides, the melting ice puddle on your pants isn’t the greatest turn-on.”
“I knew I liked you.” He winked at her. “Later, gorgeous.”
As Graham drove away, Zoey sighed. He was all kinds of bad ideas wrapped in far too pretty of a package. Thank goodness her phone didn’t work up here.
Graham Barnett was the kind of call that should never happen.
Chapter 5
Sleep didn’t come easy.
Graham could have blamed it on physical discomfort, but the truth was Zoey’s sweet smile as he dropped her off at the resort wouldn’t leave his thoughts. Interspersed with that pleasant memory was her fingertips gripping the edge of the seat in his truck as if trying not to show him how upset she was after their little trip to lockup together.
And when he closed his eyes, Graham kept seeing her startled—then horrified—expression as she stepped out of the woods right next to him.
Knowing he’d frightened her, even accidentally, stuck in his craw far more than it should.
He’d meant it when he’d told Zoey she should call him, but his instincts told him she wouldn’t. And why should she? So far, her experiences involving him were less than desirable. Graham shouldn’t care. He didn’t care. Tourists rotated in and out of town like luggage on an airport carousel. Except…well…he couldn’t stop thinking about her.
By the time the morning alarm beeped on the nightstand next to Graham’s bed, he’d been up for hours. Normally, he would have used the time to go outside and work. Today, he sat on his porch, idly scratching floppy ears as he watched the ever-present sun rise higher above the mountaintops, brightening pale gray skies to cheerful blues.
“Well, buddy, what do you think? Should I let it go? Move on with my life?”
A lazy tail thump indicated Jake’s agreement.
“Or…”
Placing a paw over his nose, Jake whined. Graham patted the border collie on the head.
“You know me so well. Yeah, you’re probably right, but I’m going to do it anyway.”
Not generally driven by impulse, Graham still found himself heading up a mountain, parking illegally in the staff parking lot, and walking down a familiar hallway in a familiar hotel, hoping he didn’t rem
ember her room number wrong. The clientele in this place rarely appreciated an early morning wake-up call from strangers.
Pausing to reflect on whether this was a terrible idea that might result in further bodily harm, Graham considered his options. Then he rapped on the door with a singsong in his voice. “Good morning! Housekeeping.”
Waiting until the count of three, Graham knocked again, louder this time. “Is there a Zoey in the building? Rise and shine, darlin’.”
“What’s happening?” Groaning loud enough he could hear her through the door, Zoey called to her suitemate. “Lana, I don’t understand what’s happening.”
“Someone’s at the door. Make it stop.” That particular sleepy grumble was Lana.
Heavy footsteps across the plush carpeting of their suite floor accompanied the door opening to reveal his dream girl. Albeit a rumpled, half-asleep version. Nightshirt twisted askew from sleep, hair a fluffy halo about her head, and eyes blinking sleepily through hastily shoved-on glasses that were in danger of falling off the end of her nose. She was perfect.
“Hey there, Zoey Bear. Not an early riser?”
Stuffing her glasses higher on the bridge of her nose, Zoey looked up in confusion. “Graham? What are you doing here? At…how early is it?”
“Six forty-five?” Smiling at her winningly didn’t keep her eyes from widening.
“You’re insane.” She started to close the door.
“Wait, wait. I think you and I started on the wrong foot. Plus, hey, you owe me breakfast. I’m cashing in.”
“I’m sorry?”
“I think you’ve seriously downplayed just how incredibly painful it is to get kicked in the groin. Common courtesy rules say breakfast or at least a light snack is required in said situation. Yesterday, we were both busy, but I’ve got a solid three, three and a half hours before I have to be an adult today. What do you say?”
Zoey groaned. “I’m sure you’ll live. I’m going back to bed.”
This wasn’t going as well as he’d hoped. Time to up his game.
“I’m peeing blood, Zo. And I did keep you from serving hard time. Doesn’t that score me any points?”
The Tourist Attraction (Moose Springs, Alaska) Page 8