“I’m not the one running a restaurant. That’s gross, man.”

Graham didn’t bother saying goodbye before hanging up. Easton and Ash left with a promise to bring Jake by soon. Easton refused to give Graham the shirt off his back, but Graham did find a sweatshirt stuffed in the back of his truck. It smelled like campfire smoke and bread, which wasn’t a terrible combination. Better than what was happening with the rest of him. Turning his phone off, Graham stuck it in his truck, the physical distance keeping him from calling Zoey and Lana, begging the first to forgive him for being an idiot and telling the second she had lost extra Growly Bear privileges.

The day was long, the dress shoes hurt as he wore them standing behind a grill, and all anyone coming through the doors could talk about was Lana’s condominiums. People wanting to know what they would cost, speculating on the types of floor plans, and buzzing over who would get one.

Graham didn’t bother letting himself get angry. The town council would never let this happen. He knew because he was there for every council meeting, and most of the discussion involved how to limit tourism’s effect on their daily lives, not increase it. This would be handled. If L was out some money, that was unfortunate, but she had plenty more. She would be fine.

A shower, a change of clothes for both him and Jake, and distracting himself with balancing the business’s books killed the time he had between lunch and dinner. As the evening wore on, Graham kept hoping Zoey would walk in and then immediately was grateful when she didn’t. He’d hurt her last night, and Graham needed to apologize. But the break had been made, and it was probably for the best. Reaching out to her would only make things worse.

Graham waited as long as he felt necessary before driving the customers out of his diner. Focused on straightening chairs and wiping down tables, Graham didn’t immediately notice the woman standing next to Barley the Biker Bear.

Raising his eyes to hers, the tension Graham had carried in his chest all day clenched down painfully tight.

“Hey there, Zoey Bear,” he said, voice softening. “I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

Which was brutally true. Even faced with the news about the condos, all Graham could focus on was the hurt in her eyes as he’d driven her away from him. When she gave him a small, worried look, his heart tried to turn itself inside out.

“I know you wanted me to leave. But I need to tell you something really important. I tried to call, but your phone went to voicemail.”

“Yeah, I kept it off today. I do that on days I’m hungover and pretty sure I majorly screwed up.”

“How are you feeling now?”

“Like I’m an idiot who’s sorry. Like my hangover’s gone and I really, really screwed up.” Graham stood close, inhaling the scent of her hair. “Zoey, last night—”

He drifted off, unable to formulate the words.

“Last night was a bad night for you,” she said, kindness and sympathy in her eyes. “And I’m worried I’m about to make tonight bad too. I need to tell you what they announced at the gala yesterday. Lana’s done something that’s going to upset you.”

Sighing, Graham stepped back, settling down on a chair and holding out a hand to her. Zoey placed her fingers in his, allowing Graham to pull her onto his lap.

“Okay. Let me have it.”

“I didn’t know anything until today. Quinn let it slip that Lana had an extra room she was using as an office—”

“No, not about L. You and me first, darlin’. I did you wrong last night, so let me have it.”

When she just looked at him, Graham tangled their fingers together. “I’m so sorry, gorgeous,” he whispered. “I wanted you so much last night, and it hit me you’re leaving. I didn’t think I could deal with losing two people…friends…I care about at the same time. I was a stupid, typical guy and pushed you away. On behalf of me and my gender’s knee-jerk instincts, I am so, so sorry. You deserved better. Let me have it, Zo. I’m ready and willing.”

Instead of yelling at him, Zoey kissed him. It was the best getting chewed out by a girlfriend he’d ever experienced, and Graham’d sure had his fair share.

“Are you okay?” she asked him, running her fingers through his hair the way he loved. “About Ulysses?”

“Easton tracked him, and he’s safe.” The headache he’d never been able to shake began to ease beneath her touch. “I’m getting better by the moment.” Graham squeezed her in a careful hug. “Are we okay, Zoey? Because not seeing you or talking to you today was torture.”

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.”