The Tourist Attraction (Moose Springs, Alaska)

by Sarah Morgenthaler

  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?”

  “I’d be disappointed in you if you didn’t.” Holding it up for her, Graham waggled the nozzle. “Open up.”

  “I want Coke. No! Sprite! No. Better stick with Coke.”

  Whatever she wanted, Graham was more than happy to soda spray her with it. Most got in her mouth, but enough got in her nose and on her face that she sneezed soda.

  “No, don’t stop.”

  “You’re drowning,” he reminded her, adjusting the angle. “Tilt your head down. Swallow. Faster.”

  “Stop making this sound like a porno.”

  “Stop making me think about pornos.”

  Then, to his utter delight, a soda-drenched Zoey wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him.

  Now, for the record, Graham knew this wasn’t going to last. And he was not a vacation fling type of guy. But when a Zoey Bear kissed a guy, there wasn’t a Graham alive who could resist her. Especially with her lips sugary sweet and her hands in his hair.

  Even though he was sure he’d kissed the lingering soda from her lips, Zoey still stole a dish towel from his stack near the ice machine to wipe her hands and face clean of their game.

  “Still feeling the porno vibes.”

  Zoey wrinkled her nose at him. “You’re incorrigible.”

  “Incorrigible. I-n-c-o-r-r-i-g-i-b-l-e. I was the fifth-grade spelling bee champ.” With a twist of his wrist, he flipped their burgers, the patties hitting the grill with a satisfying sizzle. “I’m full of delightful details to impress you. Ask me the square root of any round number between eight and a half and nine and a half.”

  “You have to beat the women away with boat paddles, don’t you?”

  “Absolutely.” When she settled on her stool, Graham leaned on the counter. “Not really. That’s the danger of growing up with everyone you know. They remember you peeing your pants at the Fourth of July Fireworks Festival when you were eleven, and they never, ever let you forget it.” Letting his thumb trace the side of her neck, he added, “You want an actual drink? We can try seeing what a Growly Bear on a full stomach does.”

  She leaned into his touch. “You’d have to baby bear me, because I’ve never been so sick in my life as I was after that. Besides, don’t you sell out every night?”

  “Yes, but I make them in huge batches, and I’ve got the rest of the week’s Growlies stored in the back fridge.”

  Her eyes widened. “You’re sneaky.”

  “Supply and demand. Keeps them coming back through the door.”

  “But you don’t want them to come to the door.”

  With a dramatic sigh, Graham nodded. “I know. I’m a mystery to even me.”

  “You know I have dangerous information on you now,” Zoey reminded him. “I could leverage it to my advantage.”

  Graham’s eyes dropped down to her mouth unconsciously. And when he realized he was doing it, he didn’t try to hide the fact he couldn’t stop focusing on that part of her.

  “You’ve had the advantage over me since we met, Zo.”

  “You’re on fire.”

  Graham slid his fingers into her hair, lips lingering only centimeters from her own. “Yeah, it’s one of my better lines,” he murmured.

  “I mean, you’re literally on fire.”

  “Hmm?”

  “Graham.” She grabbed his chin and turned it, forcing him to look at his side.

  “Aww crap.”

  He was in fact on fire, although just a little singed around the edges of his apron string, which had gotten too close to the grill while he had gotten close to her. Graham growled playfully, then kissed her one more time.

  “You’re going to get hurt. Graham!”

  It would be so easy to pull her into his arms, to keep kissing her, but her words registered deep in the part of his brain that knew better. A little singeing on the grill didn’t matter. But the ability she had to set literal fire to him finally gave Graham the strength to pull away.

  The apron string was nice and browned, but so was the reindeer dog. The burgers were dangerous
ly close to being dry, but he managed to save those in time.

  “Don’t worry. The burgers are ours, but the dog is mine,” Graham assured her.

  “I’ll share it with you,” Zoey offered. “You can have half of my burger. If these are an acquired taste, I don’t mind trying to acquire it. This place is the town’s claim to fame.”

  Graham glanced down at the grill, feeling his eyebrows scrunch together. “I doubt it.”

  “Have you ever checked your rating online? Or travel restaurant recommendations? You’re actually in Luffet and Mash’s book.”

  “That guy is a disaster. Seriously, don’t listen to him. He’s got a screw loose.”

  “You meet a lot of people, huh?”

  Groaning, Graham shook his head as he plated their food. “You have no idea. Some of the crazies that come through these doors…”

  Just like every other time, he slipped a pair of antlers on her reindeer dog, drawing a startled face with little soda drops dripping all over the dog.

  She giggled when he offered it to her, which only cemented the fact he’d have to do the same to every food product he prepared for her.

  Which, unfortunately, would only be a few more days of food products. Graham killed the heat on the grill, then joined her at the counter. She wrinkled her nose at the first bite of her reindeer dog but gamely powered through her half, the half with the soda-covered face.

  “Maybe if they were less cute, it would feel less mean.”

  Graham patted her knee, chuckling. “I’m sure there’s a lot of cows out there right now who are very offended by your statement.”

  “Cows have it coming. They’re mean. And they’re contributing to global warming. Did you know the amount of methane produced by their flatulence has a direct impact on greenhouse gases?”

  “Did you know that one supervolcano eruption will do far worse to the environment than some poor cows eating their greens?”

  “Did you know that using theoretical geological events to counter current environmental issues is not only statistically inaccurate, it’s also lazy?”

  “Are you calling me statistically inaccurate?” he asked, eyes once more on her mouth as she licked the salt from her fries off her lower lip.

  “Do you like me calling you statistically inaccurate?”

  “It’s turning me on, gorgeous. I won’t lie.”

  “You are seriously the weirdest person who has ever lived.” Even as she said it, Zoey raised her eyes to his. “Graham? If a drink with you is still on the table, I wouldn’t say no.”

  * * *

  For a moment, his eyes darkened with the kind of desire she’d seen before he’d kissed her earlier. Then a lopsided smile crossed his lips as Graham leaned in.

  “I’m happy to make you a drink, Zoey, but I probably need to pass. I’m not sure my liver would appreciate it after last night.”

  As he spoke, his hand resting on her knee slid half an inch higher, squeezing her thigh lightly.

  “And?” She raised an eyebrow.

  “And I don’t think it’s a good idea,” he admitted in a rough voice, sounding unusually vulnerable. “I’ve had enough emotional whiplash over the last twenty-four hours to last me a lifetime. I’m not sure if mixing you and alcohol is going to help.”

  “Hey, Graham?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I promise I’m not going to hurt you. Or…do anything else to you…tonight.”

  She’d rarely seen Graham blush before, but as his cheeks rushed with color at the idea of “anything else,” Zoey leaned over and hugged him. “Why don’t you make me a drink, and we’ll leave it at that?”

  Dropping a kiss to her temple, Graham rolled to his feet. “Whatever you want, Zo.”

  The way he murmured it, Zoey could believe he meant every word.

  The Growly Bear was much better on a full stomach, and the fact that he made her a much smaller one than her first helped even more. To his credit, Graham added several extra gummy bears to the concoction. She left them floating in the drink, soaking up the growly part so that she could munch on them later.

  They moved outside beneath the front window, leaning against the concrete blocks that made up the diner’s wall. The asphalt parking lot ran all the way up to the building, with faded lines and a cracked concrete bumper, none of which should have been comfortable, but Zoey was more than content to sit with her legs folded beneath her, alternating sips of water with her drink. He was milking a third root beer, and neither one felt inclined to move. Graham had started out next to her, but when she reached over, running her fingers through his short hair, he sighed and flopped down to the ground with the kind of laid-back dramatics he had made his specialty. Apparently, her lap made the perfect pillow.

  Every so often, Graham would ask her to count backward from twenty using prime numbers. She was pacing herself, because at some point, Zoey was going to need to drive herself home tonight. And as of right then, she was not going to be in any condition to drive anytime soon.

  Even a baby Growly Bear packed a punch.

  “Tell me something about you,” Zoey said. “Something normal.”

  Graham raised an eyebrow even though his eyes remained closed. The empty root beer bottles were lined up next to them. To the outside eye, it looked like they had a solid party for two happening beneath stars softened by the midnight sun.

  So far, he hadn’t choked on the root beer, even when swigging it on his back, which was impressive.

  “I wear a size extra-large shirt. And Easton’s a jerk who won’t share his clothes.”

  “That’s too normal. Give me medium normal. Everyone always wants to know deepest, darkest secrets about each other.”

  “I have deep, dark secrets,” Graham promised.

  “Do you?” Zoey ran her fingers lightly through his hair, because she enjoyed it and because he kept making soft little happy noises every time she did. “I get the feeling what’s on the outside is your deep, dark secret,” she teased. “Either that or you really are a chainsaw murderer, in which case I really don’t want to know. Give me something normal.”

  “Hmm, okay. I have great parents.”

  “In this day and age, that’s pretty abnormal.”

  “They aren’t the normal part. The normal part is that it took me most of my life to appreciate their awesomeness.” Graham opened one eyelid. “You’ll love them. They’re weird.”

  “Weirder than you?”

  “I’ll let you decide for yourself.”

  An uncomfortable pause fell between them. There was no way Zoey was getting to meet Graham’s parents or decide she loved them. A sip of her baby Growly Bear smoothed the discomfort away.

  “Any siblings?”

  “Are we doing the get to know you questions, for real?” Chuckling, Graham reached an arm back and hooked it loosely around her waist. “I can make up a lot more interesting version of myself than the truth.”

  “What’s the truth?”

  “I’m just a guy. With my head in the lap of a girl. Asking her not to spill her drink on me.”

  “Too many pop culture references.” Zoey leaned down and kissed him on impulse. “Your parents told you they loved you a lot, didn’t they?”

  “Every single day,” he murmured placidly in agreement.

  “I knew there was a reason why you’re this ridiculously self-confident and simultaneously desperate for approval.”

  “Definitely,” Graham agreed. “It’s hard work trying to live up to that level of acceptance and unconditional love. So I make sure never to tell them if I have a one-night stand or forget to eat my veggies.”

  “Does that happen a lot?”

  “The veggies? Naw, I’m pretty solid in the veggie department.”

  Zoey kissed him again. “I meant the one-night stands.”

  �
�Well…did I tell you I’m good in the veggie department?” Deepening the kiss, Graham sighed in contentment when she finally pulled away. “Tell me something not true about you.”

  “You know those big dinosaurs they have in that museum in Chicago?”

  “I’m aware of their existence.”

  “I like to sneak into the exhibits and swap the bones. Not the big ones. The little tiny ones no one notices.”

  “That’s…perverse.”

  “The perverse thing is that I kept one of the bones.”

  “Have my babies.”

  “Right now?”

  “Or in eight months.”

  “That’s the gestation time of a moose, isn’t it?”

  Graham groaned in sheer pleasure. “You get me. You really get me, Zoey Bear. Did you actually steal a dinosaur bone?”

  “No, they secure those suckers. But I daydream about it every time I’m there.”

  Graham watched her drain the last of her drink.

  “Tell me something real, Zoey.” His voice softened on her name. “Not deep or dark, unless you want to share that kind of thing. But something real.”

  “I made head waitress last year. At least I did before I told the owner that I was taking two weeks of vacation. I got fired, but I’m guessing by the time I go home, she’ll be so miserable without me, I’ll get my job back. If not, I’ll find another one.”

  “Do you like it?”

  “Being a waitress? I’m good at it.” Zoey shrugged, her lip quirking up. “Did you ever have one of those jobs where you think ‘I’ll just do this for now, just to make ends meet’? And then you look up, and it’s been ten years, and you’re still a waitress at the truck stop down the road from your grandmother’s place? But the tips are decent, and the people are nice, so you never leave?”

  “Not exactly. But I know what it’s like to have a five-year plan grab you by the balls and make you its bitch.”

  “Graham, you can’t actually be this unhappy to have a thriving business.” Zoey wasn’t buying it. “You probably have a mattress stuffed with twenties to sleep on every night.”