It would be annoying if Graham hadn’t been so stupidly happy with his fiancée. But Easton could have easily lived without walking in on the two of them going at it like teenagers again.

“Am I going to have to start hanging a sock on the front door?” Graham joked while a flushed Zoey tried to rearrange her shirt in a semblance of order.

“You knew I was coming by.” Easton had agreed to give Zoey a ride to work that morning. Her car needed new brake pads, and Graham was trying to get them installed before he opened his popular one-man diner, the Tourist Trap, for lunch. “At least put up a warning sign.”

“Nah, it’s more fun when we might get caught.” Graham winked at his fiancée.

Easton chuckled at the rueful expression on Zoey’s face. “If he bothers you too much, let me know.”

Zoey flashed Graham a fond look. “He always bothers me, but I’ve learned to live with it.”

“My best friend and my girl, ladies and gentlemen. I deserve better.”

Actually, Graham was beyond lucky and he knew it. Easton had been present the night Zoey Caldwell walked into Graham’s diner a year ago. All it had taken was one shy hello, and Graham had been glued to her heels like a man in love ever since. The fact that she had decided to stay had been as unsurprising as it was relieving. Neither Easton nor Ash wanted to deal with a brokenhearted Graham. If he was a pain in the ass when happy, it was nothing compared to when he got his heart crushed.

Graham was many things. Low maintenance wasn’t one of them.

“What’s that expression for?” Graham asked, not bothering to adjust…or find…his own shirt.

“How can you see an expression?” Zoey tilted her head. “All I see is beard.”

“You watch the beard movement,” Graham explained. “It’s subtle, but it’s there. I’ll teach you Easton beard talk. It’s part of your coursework for becoming a full member of Moose Springs. You’ve been here a year, so you’re officially out of the probationary period.”

“There are classes?” Zoey knelt, scratching Graham’s blind border collie, Jake, behind his floppy ears.

“Oh yeah,” Graham continued cheerfully. “Tourist dodging, moose impersonating, the annual running of the naked bearded men…”

“That’s a class?” She seemed horrified.

“Ask Easton. I majored in tourist dodging, with a minor in telling them like it is. But you’ll have to pass your final in beard talk. Men have to keep their faces warm in Alaska, and if you can’t understand beard talk, you’re going to spend a lot of time confused. What if I grow one?”

She arched an eyebrow. “Are you planning on growing one?”

“Depends if I feel like running naked.”