He hoisted her off the bench, turning and settling down on a cheap folding chair with her on his lap. “There. Safe and sound.”
“Aren’t we too heavy for this?” she asked.
“Naw.” His mouth pressed slow, deliberate kisses along her pulse point, leaving her heart racing. Safe and sound wasn’t the descriptor Zoey would have used for how Graham made her feel. Burning alive from the inside out was far closer. And as she leaned in to kiss him again, she knew she never wanted this feeling to end.
* * *
Eventually, she abandoned his lap for his artwork. Or what he hoped was art.
Graham watched Zoey move about his workshop, slender fingers tracing the lines of his most recent failure like it was something precious. “This is beautiful.”
“It’s better, but it’s not…” Graham trailed off, swallowing the knee-jerk reaction to joke about what was wrong with the carving. “It’s better,” he finally said. “Zoey?”
“Hmm?”
“Did you ever watch Ghost?”
She snickered, moving deeper into the workshop. “If you’re suggesting we recreate the pottery wheel scene with a chainsaw and wood chips flying, you’re reaching high.”
“It’s not my fault you’re top shelf.”
Her cheeks flushed at the compliment, eyes dropping down to what was supposed to be a chair. It was more like a butt-sized bowl chopped out of a stump.
“I love this.”
Graham loved her, but he had absolutely no idea what to do about it. The only logical option was to follow her around the shop, a puppy on a string that she had no idea was tied to her pinkie finger. She rounded the table and ended up back at the butt stump. It didn’t fit Graham at all, but it was perfect for her. When Zoey wriggled in delight when the seat ended up holding her curves perfectly, Graham was done.
“Hey, Zo?”
“Hmm?”
“I like your glasses.”
“No one likes my glasses.”
“I do.” He gently took them off her face, leaving her blinking owlishly at him. Smiling, he replaced them on her nose. “That’s why I don’t want to scratch them.”
“Why would you scratch them?”
“Because I want to recreate Ghost.” Graham covered her glasses with his welding mask.
“You want to carve things with a chainsaw all sexy like with a half-blind woman in a welding mask?”
“Well, when you put it that way…yes. Absolutely.”
He led her outside where they clipped Jake to his tie-out on the porch so he wouldn’t be in reach of any flying wood chips. Then, in the exact same place where she’d once kicked him and run screaming because of his chainsaw, Zoey hefted her own chainsaw and gave him an excited grin.
Teaching Zoey to carve was fun, even though it was louder than pottery, and they didn’t have a killer theme song. Arms around her to guide the movements of the saw, Graham helped her carve her name into a chunk of cedar. Then, because he was an absolute idiot for her, he added Jake’s name too with a few three-dimensional hearts surrounding both.
“Don’t tell anyone I’m this lame,” Graham whispered against her neck when they’d turned off the saw.
“Oh, I’m telling everyone,” Zoey promised.
She squealed when he made a playful grab for her. This time, Graham didn’t suffer any physical pain or have the cops called for running after Zoey in his yard. Instead, he ended up with the woman of his dreams in his arms as Jake barked from the porch, whining because he wanted in on the fun.
“House?” he asked her, because she had that look in her eye, the one he couldn’t say no to.
“I have a better idea.” When she dragged him back into the workshop instead, Graham remembered all over again why she was perfect for him.
There were logistical issues with making love in a woodworker’s workshop. Still, Graham didn’t think he’d made too much of a mess of things. Afterward, Zoey curled up on a bench he had made, her head pillowed on his balled-up, sawdusty shirt as she took a nap, simultaneously the cutest and sexiest thing Graham had ever seen.
He didn’t blame her for being exhausted. Yesterday’s ordeal would have been enough for anyone to be worn down, but Graham had spent the night showing her how much she mattered to him. He’d taken his time, careful to make sure their passion wasn’t one-sided. Watching her fall apart in his arms had been one of the best experiences of his life.
Now the little tourist who had stolen his heart had also stolen his bench. And he didn’t mind one single bit. Unwilling to wake her up, Graham untied Jake and went about organizing his shop instead of continuing to carve. Jake had been napping at her feet, but at the sound of gravel crunching beneath tires, he lifted his head and gave a warning woof.
“I know, buddy. I’m not sure who thinks it’s a good idea to bother us right now.”
Us. Him and Zoey and Jake. Graham’s little island of happiness that he didn’t want invaded just then.
She could sleep through anything, even Easton’s hulking figure appearing in the doorway. “We need to talk.” He must have noticed her—how could he not—because Easton kept his voice low.
“Then talk.” Graham continued wiping down a smaller half-finished piece of art, considering his next cuts.
“In private.”
Glancing at Zoey, Graham nodded and followed his friend outside. It took a lot to rattle Easton, but he looked shaken.
“Lana’s got too much sway. The council is going to agree to the project.”
Inhaling a deep, steadying breath, Graham counted to three. Then ten. Then thirty. “So that’s it?” he finally asked.
“That’s it.”
Exhaling explosively, Graham folded his arms over his chest. Two days ago, it was the worst news he could possibly have imagined. But compared to what he was about to lose, Graham struggled to find the emotions he normally would have felt on hearing his town was about to be ruined.
“Maybe it’s for the better.” Nudging a cedar chip with the side of his work boot, Graham looked at the trees rising around him. “Maybe L will do this right.”
Easton didn’t seem convinced, but there was nothing either of them could do at this point. Discussing it only left them both without any ideas, so they talked about Easton’s climbing season instead. He was considering taking one more group up Mount Veil, the beast of a mountain not far from Moose Springs, but it was risky. This late in the season, the cold weather could hit fast and hard up there. Eventually, Easton went home, leaving Graham to consider his little home and what would become of it.