The utter joy on her face wrapped around Graham’s heart and hauled it down somewhere in his stomach, right where it was easier for her to hold on tight. With a squeal of sheer excitement, Zoey let go of his waist and flung herself into his arms.

“I just saw a killer whale! Graham!”

“We just got beaten up by a killer whale,” he teased, unable to loosen his hold on her. Instead, Graham pulled her closer. “See, gorgeous?” he murmured in her ear. “Not a waste of time at all.”

It would have been the absolute perfect moment to kiss her. Which was why it made complete sense that Graham turned and lost his lunch over the side of the railing.

* * *

When the violent rocking of the tour boat caused what few passengers who hadn’t gotten sick to turn green, the captain called it a loss and headed back to shore. Killer whale shower or not, some things simply weren’t salvageable.

As for Zoey, her feet were floating ten feet off the ground, even as they were told everyone had to come back inside and stay in their seats.

The ride back to shore was even choppier than the ride out. Every time the boat rose and dipped with the waves, the group would collectively groan. Waves crashed into the bow with heavy slaps of water, the resultant boom vibrating the air around them, turning the tour boat into a metal drum.

To his credit, Graham kept the rest of his insides in, but he had to fight for it. They found a pair of seats away from everyone else near the bow, since so many passengers were gathered back by the coffee station, where the rise and fall of the turbulent waters weren’t as pronounced. The ride was rougher, but at least they had some space. Large hands gripped the edge of his seat until Graham’s knuckles were as pale as his face. She gave him some motion sickness medicine when he asked, but it was too late to help him. Like the rest of the boat, Graham was screwed.

When they finally docked, it was a stampede to get back to solid ground.

“I like you, Zoey,” Graham decided as they grabbed their things and tried to escape the vessel before the masses. “But the next time L says to hop on a boat with you, my answer’s going to be a hard pass.”

“Don’t worry. My glacier tour tomorrow is just me,” Zoey told him, trying to force away her disappointment. It didn’t matter that the tour had been cut short or that so many other tourists had been irresponsible with their motion sickness preparation. She’d not only gotten to see a whale, she’d been drenched by the amazing creature from head to toe.

“No shuttle bus,” Graham groaned. “Leave me. Save yourself.”

“Come on, big guy,” Zoey said, pulling his arm around her neck and wrapping hers around his waist, giving him something solid to lean on. “It’s not so bad.”

“Zo, I will give you anything you want to convince you to take a rideshare back to the big house. I know people. Good, smooth-driving people who will come pick us up.”

“All of whom will have to drive here first and then take us back. The sooner you toughen up your squishy little spine and get on the shuttle bus, the sooner you can be home.”

“Women aren’t the gentler sex.”

“No, we aren’t. Okay, handsome, in you go.”

She pretty much had to stuff him through the door, and Zoey wasn’t surprised at all when he took a three-seat bench all for the two of them, flopping down dramatically and telling anyone who tried to sit with them they’d rue their decision for the next hour. Unsurprisingly, the sheer volume of space Graham took up encouraged the others to accommodate him.

“I know you feel terrible, but there’s no excuse for this kind of manspreading,” Zoey chided him. “At least get your legs in our area.”

“Manspreading?”

“You know, when guys take way too much space because they think they inherently deserve it.”

Tucking his legs in a few inches more, Graham sighed. “Better? Because my manness can only inverse spread so much.”

The shuttle bus rolled a few feet, then lurched to a stop, turn signal on. Graham groaned and turned his face into her shoulder. Zoey patted him on the back of the neck.

“You’re manspreading again. Tuck ’em up there, handsome.”

“Sorry. It’s been an educational day for my pelvis.”

To his credit, Graham tried to keep his long limbs contained from there out. But the motion sickness medicine finally kicked in, along with the drowsiness. The face hiding mournfully in her shoulder became an actual head sleeping on her shoulder.

And a sleeping Graham sprawled.

“I don’t actually know him,” Zoey told the others in the bus as he began snoring. Aggressively. Taking his chin in her hand, she gave him a little shake. “Graham. You’re driving everyone nuts.”

He blinked at her, gave her a sleepy smile, and then winked. He winked. Then he was out again.

The bus driver picked up his piece of paper, the bus wobbling as he jostled paper, steering wheel, and his intercom.

“On the left, you’ll see the Chugach Mountain Range—”

He was reading the same thing. The exact same spiel that had interested her on the trip there, except they weren’t in Moose Springs, and the mountains were on the right, not the left.

Sleeping Graham said what they all were thinking, a loud snort of disgust, followed by a few choking noises.

About halfway into the trip, Zoey gave up trying to wake Graham and looked out the window. As they drove higher into the mountains, Zoey sighed wistfully. She would have given anything to stop and look around, to hike into these mountains and feel the earth beneath her feet. Smell the fresh air and hear the birds singing in the trees above her head. The need was visceral, like a hand wrapping itself around her heart and pulling her.

Smooshing her forehead against the safety glass and staring longingly was the best she could do.

Only in the last few minutes leading up to their arrival in Moose Springs did Graham start to stir, a feat requiring some significant effort on Zoey’s part. The speed bump just after the Moose Springs Resort gatehouse finally pulled him awake.

Thank goodness, because there was only so much drool her shirt could soak up, and he’d reached maximum capacity.

“Hey there, Zoey Bear.” Sleep made his voice rougher and sexier, lashes framing those warm eyes as he gazed at her.

“Are you feeling better?”

Graham yawned, a mighty yawn, and stretched his muscled arms above his head, vertebrae cracking in a way that must have been pleasant. “Yeah, it was a good nap. How about you?”

“I’m thirty seconds from clawing either my eardrums or your eyeballs out. So please. Pretty please. Move.”

Blinking, Graham stood up, backing into the aisle to give her a clear escape route. “Was I snoring?”

“There are no words for what you were doing. You need a sleep apnea test. You’re at risk for a stroke.”

“Hmm. Would you believe you’re not the first woman to tell me that?” Graham followed at her heels, giving a parting wave to the rest of the bus.

Zoey dutifully tipped the tour guide, then headed inside, sidestepping Diego and his pamphlets as she pulled out her phone. “We may need to use yours to call Lana.”

“What. The. Hell.”

At Graham’s horrified tone, Zoey looked up. Instead of having to track her down—a feat proven difficult this trip—Lana was waiting for them in the lobby, ever-present phone in one hand and a glass of champagne in the other. Head to toe glam luxury, Lana was dressed in the kind of silky red and gold romper that only women of her level of attractiveness could pull off. Not for the first time, Zoey felt woefully outclassed by her friend, but it was impossible to hold it against her when Lana beamed at her.

“Oh, I was hoping you would be here soon. How was the tour?”

“There was a whale.” Zoey tried desperately not to let her disappointment show through.

“Just one?”

Just one. And a lot of vomit.

“What the hell did you do to my dog, L? Did you bedazzle him?”

“Stop being such a baby. It’s just some bling.”

Graham whistled for Jake, but the animal stretched out at Lana’s feet never moved.

“I told you,” Lana said smugly. “You don’t take nearly as good care of him as you should. Right, dearest?”

Jake barked in complete agreement.

* * *

Since Graham was sick, Zoey drove him home this time.

Having left his truck at the Tourist Trap earlier, he promised he could catch a ride into town tomorrow with Easton. Zoey didn’t doubt his ability to find someone to help when Graham clearly knew everyone in Moose Springs.

Even though his land was right up against the resort property, the actual access road took a while to reach, meaning he had time to fiddle with the settings on her rental car, finding the better stations—so he claimed—and not making it as hot as a desert in there. Then he went about trying to scrape the crystals cemented to Jake’s freshly clipped and painted toenails with his pocketknife.

“This was invasive,” Graham grumbled. “Who blings someone else’s fur child?”

“Keep those crystals,” Zoey advised. “They’re probably diamond chips.”

“That’s absurd. Even L wouldn’t do that.”

“Wanna bet?”

Shaking his head, Graham kept working, but he did make a careful little pile of crystals on the center console of her rental. They pulled up to his house right as the light started to shift from the bright blue of day to a softer, yellowing color, the only indication evening was approaching.

“Violent illness aside, did you have fun at all?” Zoey asked, setting the car in park.

“I always have fun with you.” He seemed loathe to leave, and to be honest, Zoey wasn’t ready to part either. “Walk a fellow to his door?”

Charmed despite knowing better, Zoey climbed out and offered him her arm. Like the gentleman he was, Graham took it and made a deal of leaning on her for help.

“It was so awful, Zoey.” He turned his head, groaning into the top of hers, leaning in playfully. “Everyone thought it was fish chowder, but no one realized it was poison. My pain is still palpable.”