“You had the chili.” Unable to help pointing that out, she patted his head. “I promise you’ll live.”
“You’re not as cruel as I thought.” Stepping away when they reached the door, Graham started to open it for her, then hesitated.
“I’d invite you in, but I have a firm no tourists rule.”
A quick glance of apology wasn’t quite enough to take the sting from his rejection.
“It’s fine.”
As she turned to leave, Graham caught her fingers, drawing her back. Stepping close, Graham rested a warm, strong hand on her hip, gazing down at her. “It’s not you, Zoey; it’s me. I set a no rotating door policy on my life a long time ago. I’m not wired to live that way, so I keep some boundaries. But that doesn’t mean I want you to leave.”
Softening the words with a sweet smile, Graham held up a finger to say he’d be right back. Disappearing into the house, Graham left Zoey and Jake on the porch, a scratchy puppy tongue licking at her fingers and a strong tail thumping against the back of her knee. He returned moments later, leaving the door open but the screen door shut behind them. Sitting down on the porch steps, Graham lifted a pair of old-fashioned bottled root beers in his hand.
“Thirsty?”
“Definitely.”
Tilting a bottle her way, Graham handed the drink to her. Zoey took a sip of her root beer as Jake stretched out on the step below them, resting his chin on his furry paws. “This is good.”
Jake’s ear flicked between Zoey’s direction and then Graham’s, following the conversation as they spoke.
“Ash’s aunt home brews the stuff and sells it in town if you want to take some home. She sets some aside for the rest of us, because the visitors usually clean her out.”
Us. Them. Clearly, Graham had a line drawn in the sand between the two, and the distaste in his town for “them” was impossible to ignore. Zoey took another sip, tipping her head. “All jokes aside, you don’t like the tourism in town, do you?”
Graham opened his own drink and took a long swig, draining half the bottle. “I wouldn’t say that.”
“You hate it?”
“Closer.” Shrugging, Graham nudged Jake’s furry tail with the toe of his boot. “Let’s just say, I like my town a lot better when we’re left to our own devices. This is a great place. We don’t need idiots wrapping their Ferraris around trees in our front yards.”
She waited, letting him choose his words.
“I was just a kid when the Shaws built that place. Their son, Jackson, and I grew up together. Jax is a good guy, and we had a blast running around up there, causing trouble. But the older I got…I don’t know. Too much crap goes down that shouldn’t. We’re a good town with good people. We try to be welcoming, but at some point, enough is enough.”
Pursing his lips, Graham finally grunted. “I keep telling myself that one of these days, I’ll pull stakes and move north where I won’t have to deal with any of this anymore.”
“But then you’ll have to leave everyone that matters to you,” Zoey said, not unkindly. “That’s a hard choice.”
“Yeah. Which is why I come home every night and secretly hope the hotel goes belly up and we all get our lives back.” Chuckling, Graham leaned back on his elbows, feet stretched out in front of them. He shot her a boyish look. “It would make one great bonfire up there, wouldn’t it?”
“I plead the fifth.” Playfully, Zoey added, “Jonah didn’t get all of my rap sheet.”
With a sigh of pleasure, Graham settled into his slouch. “I knew I liked you.”
Graham leaned over and lightly bumped his arm into hers. When he did it again, even softer, this time it was Zoey who leaned her head on his shoulder. Inhaling the scent of the evergreen forest around them, of cedar wood piled haphazardly about his yard, and of expensive shampoo on Jake’s coat. Enjoying the hard muscles beneath her cheek and the sweet soda on her lips.
Tilting her bottle his way, Zoey murmured, “To one day being left alone?”
“To one day being left alone.”
Clinking bottles, Graham gazed down at her, expression unreadable. Then he smiled gently and leaned into her just a little before taking a sip. “But not quite yet.”
Chapter 9
The next morning, Graham woke up with Zoey Caldwell overtaking his brain. Seasickness aside, he’d had far more fun with her than a guy had a right to, and he kept hoping Zoey would call him up, maybe demand a repeat of their breakfast date or save him from another day at work by dragging him back out to sea.
She didn’t.
Even though he hadn’t technically given her his number, Graham occasionally checked his phone to see if she called. She hadn’t. And yes, Graham had just seen her the night before, but still. He’d bothered her first thing in the morning to get breakfast. Was it too much to hope for Zoey to do the same?
Deeply disappointed by her perfectly acceptable behavior, Graham started his morning as normal. Working out in his shed, then ordering new summer clothes for Jake online. Staring at his log and making sure if any other lost tourists randomly appeared out of the woods, he wasn’t as terrifying as he stood rooted to the ground in artistic indecision. Checking his phone again to see if maybe he’d missed a call from her, Graham gave up and drove Jake to Ash’s place, where his pup could spend the day outside with her.
Then, when there was nothing else Graham could do to avoid it, he dragged himself in to work.
Easton was a creature of habit, so he showed up at the diner around lunch, giving Graham someone to talk to other than the strangers massing through the doors. The relationship worked well for them. Graham gave East food. East dragged the trash can out and made people pick up their crap. In between still checking his phone and grudgingly serving customers, Graham told Easton about his impromptu afternoon with Zoey.
“You. Went whale watching. Voluntarily.”
Easton’s voice rarely changed in tone, but his lifted eyebrow spoke volumes.
As he worked, Graham shrugged. “Zoey was all alone. I kept her company. It’s not a big deal.”
“Whale watching. On one of those overstuffed tour boats.”
Graham shoved a burger at the next customer, only half listening to the order being told to him. “It was miserable too. I can’t believe they convince people to give them their money. But she loved it, man. Like a kid at Christmas.”
Easton’s eyebrow climbed higher.
“Okay, judgy. Like you’ve never gotten roped into some stupid crap because of a woman.”
“Name anything I’ve done that comes close.”
Hmm, point to Easton, because Graham couldn’t. East kept his mortifying experiences close to the chest and not for general consumption. “Well, it’s not my fault you have the emotional range of a tennis shoe.”
And then she was there, the next customer in line, hair falling over her eyes and that one strand stuck between her lashes and her glasses.
“Hi,” Zoey said shyly.
Feeling his face split with the widest, stupidest grin, Graham nearly dropped a burger patty on the floor.
“Hey there, Zoey Bear. We were just talking about you.”
“Should I be worried?”
“Always.” He flipped a burger higher than normal, maybe to impress her. “So what’s on the menu today?”
“Umm, just a…” She glanced at the prices on the menu board, hand fidgeting in her pocket. “Just a dog please.”
“That’s all you want?”
Pulling her hand out of her pocket, she added softly, “And a water.”
“Wow, you’re really paying into my retirement today,” Graham joked. When he glanced up from his grill, he saw her face had gone a particularly unhappy shade of red.
Graham told her the price, watching as she counted out her change. The next customers in line shifted impatiently as she dug deeper into her pocket. Her flushed face went even redder as it became clear to everyone in the room that the two dollar and change meal was more than she could afford.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m not as hungry as I thought.”
“Hey, I’ve got this one,” Graham started to say, but Zoey already had turned on her heel, hustling out of his restaurant as fast as she could go. Head held high, even though everyone was looking at her.
“Take the wheel, will you?” Graham clapped Easton on the shoulder.
“What?” Easton gave him a horrified look as Graham stripped off his apron and lobbed it at Easton’s face.
“Flip twice, don’t let anything burn. This isn’t rocket science, buddy.”
“What about you?”
Graham was going after a girl.
* * *
Somehow, Graham’s teasing hit Zoey hard. Too hard. Like a punch in the guts when she already wanted to puke.
Abandoning the Tourist Trap, Zoey hurried across the parking lot, avoiding the eyes of the other customers joining the line. So focused on just getting out of there, Zoey almost missed the voice calling after her.
“Hey, Zoey. Darlin’, slow down.”
Hard pass on that. She just wanted to be away from all the people inside, even Graham. Still, he followed her as she paused just long enough to pull the keys out of her pocket with a shaky hand. So of course the keys hooked on the inside fabric of her pocket, turning it inside out and sending her money—what was left of it—flying.
“No, no, no.”
Dropping to her knees despite being in the middle of the parking lot, Zoey scrambled to catch her change, frantic not to lose a single dime more. Collecting them carefully, Zoey crushed the handful of coins to her chest, bursting into tears.
“This isn’t the safest place to take a pit stop. You should see how people drive around here.”
A heavy hand rested cautiously against her shoulder, but when she didn’t pull away from the man now kneeling on the ground next to her, Graham curled his arm around her shoulders and drew her into his muscled torso.