“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.”

“Fives,” he murmured. “The profit margins on reindeer aren’t as high as you’d expect.” Graham looked at her. “I just always wanted to be an artist. A real one, not a guy with a shipping container in the backyard full of untouched cedar logs. I wanted to spend my days with a chainsaw in my hands, carving the most massive, incredible pieces of art. Life-sized bears, moose calves playing, these mountains down to every last perfect detail.

“But I just wasn’t good enough,” he admitted. “And at some point, programs will drop you and give the space to someone else who is.”

“Where did you study?”

“In New York. At the School of Visual Arts.”

When Zoey’s jaw dropped open, he touched the tip of his pinkie to her chin, closing it. “I know. And I was totally out of my depth. But there’s something to being able to get food delivered at three in the morning.

“I missed the stars,” he continued. “I missed these mountains. I really missed my friends. The Trap was just supposed to be a small little lunch stop, something to pay the bills. But now…” Graham sounded tired as he confessed, “Now I’m stuck.”

“Why not just hire someone else to run it for you?”

“Because as much as I don’t want to be here, I really don’t want to go back to being the art school dropout. I want to be more than I am. I just don’t know what that means yet.”

Still playing with his hair, Zoey closed her eyes. “Sometimes life gives us the things we weren’t planning on.”

“I was just thinking the same thing.” A warm hand found hers in the darkness. “You know, the day I opened, I was so worried. Then I went outside to get the bread, and there was Ulysses, trying to get in my truck. And I thought, hey, at least someone likes this place. That was good enough to me.”

“Graham? You don’t need art school to be an artist. You don’t need a studio or even anyone to buy your work. You just need you. And from what I know of you, I can’t imagine you being anything less than amazing at whatever you set your mind to.”

“What do you want, Zoey?”

“I wanted to come here. That’s all I cared about. This was my dream.”

Strong fingers gave her slender ones a gentle squeeze. “And it got screwed up from the very beginning. Are you disappointed?”

Was she disappointed?

“Do you hear that?”

“Hmm?” Graham tilted his head, listening. “All I hear are the thrushes singing. They’re loud little suckers at night up here.”

“Exactly. That’s all I hear too.” Pushing her glasses up high on her nose, Zoey lifted her face to the sky, a soft purple-gray, still trimmed with blue on the horizon. “I didn’t get some of the memories I thought I’d wanted. But right here, just like this, you’re giving me memories I didn’t know I needed. A girl can go a long time on a night like this. Maybe even ten more years while I save enough to come back.”

Even though the idea of returning made her smile, the rest of her words caused the smile to slip from her face. Silence fell between them, a silence she didn’t think she had the courage to break.

Graham did. “Ten years is a long time.”

“Yeah.”

“You’ll probably have a potbellied husband and four kids by then.”

“You might have a wife and thirty kids by then.”

With a low chuckle, he looked up at her. “I might. Poor thing, getting stuck with a guy like me. I’ve been told I’m a pain in the ass.”

“I have physical proof that is one hundred percent true.” She hesitated, then added softly, “Graham? I don’t want to go home regretting anything. Especially you.”

“Meaning what, Zo?”

“Meaning I only have a few days left. I’d like to make the most of them with you.”

Drawing her down into his arms, Graham kissed her, with only the silent majestic mountains rising above them bearing witness to the most perfect kiss of her life. As she closed her eyes, letting the warmth of Graham’s presence lull her into sleep against his chest, Zoey heard him whisper, “Yeah, darlin’. Me too.”

Chapter 15

Things were getting serious with Graham, which meant it was time to book an appointment with Grace. Zoey was in need of some ladyscaping.

They were having a fireworks show by the lake that night to celebrate the Fourth of July, and apparently, the resort went all out, setting off a sheer arsenal over the valley. It was one of the few times a year that the town and the resort came together, with the town adding their own supplies to that of the resort, resulting in enough fireworks to blow a small crater in the side of the mountain range.

According to Lana, the Moose Springs fireworks show was absolutely fabulous.

Last night with Graham had lasted until dawn, and by the time he walked Zoey to her car, whatever this was growing between them hadn’t eased one single bit. She would see him tonight, because the entire town shut down to go watch the fireworks. Like Lana, Graham assured her it was not to be missed. Lingering at the end of their goodbye kiss, Zoey’s desire for him skyrocketed. Only when she was back at the hotel, a couple of hours of sleep under her belt and the promise he would come find her as soon as he could get away from work, did it occur to her that she might be in over her head. It had been a while since she’d dated someone and…well…things weren’t at their tidiest.

Having her eyebrows already threaded by the resort’s expert stylist, Zoey knew Grace was the best. The scariest but the best. As Zoey stood awkwardly in the spa’s reception room, waiting for her turn to be tortured, she embraced how utterly intimidated she was by the other woman. There was something particularly horrifying about asking a cover model-beautiful stylist with perfect eyebrows to make sure you don’t have errant chin hairs or a mustache.

That had been last time. This time, Zoey had more serious hair issues to attend to.

“Oh, Zoey, there you are.”

Zoey glanced up in surprise, not expecting Lana to come around the corner, fresh-faced and dewy, ready for her day.

The fact Lana hadn’t woken Zoey to ask her to do her makeup and went to the spa to have it done instead spoke volumes to her level of guilt. Rarely at a loss for something to say, Lana hesitated, fiddling with the delicate diamond bracelet on her wrist.

“I’m getting a wax,” Zoey blurted out. “I’m trying not to run screaming.”

Lana’s eyes sparkled with interest. “Oh really? Things are going that well?”

Grace the follicle extractor appeared at the desk, a hush going through the reception area. Clearly, Zoey wasn’t the only one intimidated by the stylist. “Zoey Caldwell.”

“That’s me.” Could her voice have sounded any weaker? Grace lifted one sculpted eyebrow, and Zoey found herself shrinking beneath her gaze. “Umm, Lana? Do you want to come with me?”

Relief flashed over Lana’s face as if she thought Zoey would be angry with her. “Of course I will.”

“I don’t think she likes me,” Zoey mumbled as they followed Grace deeper into the salon, past overstuffed pedicure chairs and someone getting their hair styled for the day. Last time when they had their brows done, it had been from a bright and cheery spot near the pedicure chairs.