“I didn’t. They just kept bringing one. I threw two out in the dumpster, but karaoke machines are eviler than Ouija boards. They just keep coming back.”
At his feet, Jake whined.
“I know, buddy. It’s breaking my ears too.”
“Is it okay for him to be in here?” Zoey asked, noticing the tail wagging furiously next to Graham’s leg.
“Yeah, Harold already caught me this morning. He’s not coming back anytime soon.” Graham gave her a mock worried look. “Are you going to tell on me?”
“Depends,” she said flirtatiously. “What’s it worth to you?”
Oh man. She was killing him.
“We’re in trouble, Jake,” Graham murmured.
When Jake whined in reply, Zoey headed behind the counter, kneeling down and taking Jake’s furry nose in her hands. “Don’t worry, you handsome devil, you. I’d never tell on your daddy. But I will give him a lot of crap for the horrible sounds coming out of that speaker.”
“He gets lonely. It’s the classic, age-old fight. I’m always gone at work; he’s always stuck in the house. He thinks I’m out playing with other dogs, and it’s always a fight when I get home. If I didn’t take Jake out and show him a good time every now and then, he’d up and leave me.”
Zoey dropped a kiss to Jake’s snout. “Sounds like you deserve it. Right, baby? Your daddy deserves it. If you were with me, I’d treat you better. No one keeps Jake in the corner. Not with your new bling. Aren’t you gorgeous?”
“Now who’s quoting too much pop culture?”
“Alaska is rubbing off on me.”
“Alaska wishes.”
Sometimes things just slipped out. Wincing at his own choice of phrasing, he glanced at Zoey out of the corner of his eye. Her cheeks had turned an adorable shade of pink, and she was clearly taking refuge behind her glasses, hand partially obscuring her face as she fiddled with them.
“Alaska also thinks you could use a real drink. It’s on the house.”
“I thought you didn’t give away anything for free.” Zoey shot him a cute little grin. “Especially not to those who rotate in and out of your sphere of existence without remorse.”
“Haven’t you noticed, Zoey?” Graham moved closer, because she wasn’t the only one who could flirt. “I keep making exceptions for you.”
Zoey declined the drink but did take a soda, a small order of fries, and Jake, insisting on paying for everything except his border collie. Graham didn’t think of himself as a hoverer or invasively nosey, but he glanced at her wallet when she counted out the bills. Even someone not paying attention could tell her cash stash was shrinking. So he snuck an antlered reindeer dog onto her plate while she focused on Haleigh’s rousing and entirely believable rendition of Katy Perry’s “Last Friday Night.” And because it was Zoey, he drew little music notes falling out of the reindeer’s open, singing mouth in ketchup.
While Graham was busy finishing Zoey’s perfect, musically inclined dinner, Easton abandoned his own table, joining Graham at the counter. “So.”
“So what? Hey, can you give this to Zoey? And tell the rest of them to come get their crap? It’s ready.”
Easton gave him a look that spoke volumes. “You need to hire help.”
“Yeah, yeah, but if someone was relying on me for their paycheck, then I’d actually have to care about this place.”
“You mean it, don’t you?”
Choosing not to answer, Graham split his focus between laying out a fresh set of patties and the sexy little bit in the corner. Easton came back, looking just as annoyed as when he left.
“The one with the weird makeup made a pass at me.”
“Who, L?”
“No, the brunette.”
Six feet if she was an inch, the woman in question wasn’t the first supermodel to come into his diner. Graham didn’t recognize her, and he also didn’t like how she was seated next to Zoey but wasn’t acknowledging her presence. “Eh, don’t bother, buddy. Not worth the headache.”
“Looks who’s talking,” Easton said, making Graham frown.
Over with Zoey, Jake was having a blast. Zoey had found his dog a seat and a pair of noise-canceling headphones. Her hands in his coat and the leash draped over her knee seemed to be all the security blanket Jake needed.
“You jealous?”
Looking away from her table to the hulking beast of a man standing at the counter, Graham snorted.
“Of her? Naw, Jake still loves me.”
“I meant of him.”
Graham opened a bottle of beer and passed it over to his friend. “I plead the fifth. But if I don’t stop staring at her, people are going to talk.”
“People are already talking.”
Graham shook his head. “Great.”
“It’s your own fault. You’ve been following her around since she came to town like she’s got a leash on both of you.”
“Lovely imagery, buddy. My male pride thanks you.”
Easton shrugged. “Just calling it like I see it.”
“Zoey, Zoey, Zoey.”
The table of awfulness began chanting her name. Poor thing’s face was bright red, and she kept shaking her head with the kind of vehemence of someone who really, really didn’t want to sing in front of a group of strangers.
“You’re staring again,” Easton rumbled. Smug jerk had the audacity to look amused.
“She’s a customer. I have to pay attention to my customers.”
Even Graham wasn’t buying it. Easton took a long draw on his beer, then he said, “You’re screwed. Ash wanted me to tell you that.”
“Thanks, man. Duly noted.”
Leah and Collin had joined Ash and Easton’s table, along with half a dozen others who found karaoke night to be better than a movie for entertainment value. The thing was, too many of these people were so utterly convinced of their own masterfulness that they took it way, way too seriously. Every once in a while, one of his people would go up there too, a passive-aggressive mockery of those attempting to sing their hearts out.
“Lana, I don’t want to sing!”
“You’ll be fine.”
“Come on, Zoey. I bet you have a great voice.” Killian squeezed her hand in encouragement.
Graham’s own hand squeezed the ketchup bottle so hard the top popped off.