The thing was—for as competent as Graham was at slinging processed meat—he kind of sucked at being a chainsaw artist.

“What do you think, Jake?” Graham called from just inside his workshop. “What are we carving this bad boy into?”

From his shaded tie-out spot on the cabin’s porch, safely out of range of flying wood chips, Graham’s furry companion wagged a silky black-and-white tail in acknowledgment.

Normally, Jake had the run of the place, but not when Graham was carving. The border collie had been blind ever since Graham found him as a puppy in a box next to the diner’s dumpster. Rage at the animal’s abandonment turned into full throttle adoration by the time he drove Jake home from the best vet in Anchorage, complete with puppy-safe chew toys and far too many outfits.

They’d come to an agreement. Jake only had to wear the outfits on special occasions, and when he did, he’d take the indignity without complaint.

Of course, the arrangement never stopped Graham from adding a hat or two to his friend upon occasion. Even now, Jake’s floppy speckled ears were topped with a knit cap matching Graham’s own. The caps were one of his mother’s better attempts at knitting, although she’d taken more care to fit Jake’s head than Graham’s. Mediocre artistry ran in the Barnett family.

“All right, buddy. I’m going to get the equipment going. Hang tight.”

Another lazy tail thump was followed by a yawn, Jake’s cloudy eyes covered by the soft wool.

When a head of short, vibrant pink hair popped around the corner of the shipping container’s open door, Graham wasn’t surprised. Even if he hadn’t heard the Jeep’s tires crunching gravel as it pulled up his drive, Jake’s single warning woof let Graham know not only was someone there to visit but the border collie recognized the vehicle.

“Hey. Is it safe to come in?”

“Safer than out there.” Graham finished changing the chain on his favorite chainsaw. “Be warned. I’m excessively rugged and masculine today.”

Rolling her eyes, Easton’s twin sister set her hip against the steel entrance of his workshop, crossing tattooed arms across her equally tattooed chest. “I’ll do my best to control myself. No promises.”

In shorts, a tank top, and flip-flops, Ashtyn Lockett looked every inch the born and bred Moose Springs resident she was. Where the tourists were still wearing sweaters and furry boots, Ashtyn looked readier for a day at the beach than a day hauling supplies across the state in her helicopter.

Besides similar eyes and the same rare smile, there was little resemblance between Ashtyn and Easton. Having been at the receiving end of more than one of the prettier Lockett twin’s grins, Graham knew how devastating they could be. Too bad the presence of a monster-sized brother always killed any romantic thoughts Graham might have entertained about her. Plus, Ash scared him twice as much as Easton ever could.

Graham hefted his chainsaw up. “I got it fixed. Pretty, huh?”

“Sure. I talked to Easton. He wants a rematch tomorrow at Rick’s after you close. Try to run them out early if you can.”

Graham started the chainsaw to check he hadn’t messed up anything, the meaty growl of the machine drowning out his words. “You could have called instead of stopped by, Ash. You’re secretly in love with me, aren’t you?”

“What?”

He revved the chainsaw a few times and then let it idle. “I said sure. I don’t mind taking East’s money.”

Ashtyn raised a sculpted eyebrow, her gaze scraping his form, briefly landing on Graham’s bare stomach. “Yeah, right. You’ve always been too pretty for your own good, and you know it. What’s the point of the hat if you’re not going to wear a shirt?”

“Jake was cold this morning.”

The eyebrow arched higher. “And?”

Tucking a welder’s mask under his arm, Graham tilted his head. “I don’t understand the question.”

Snorting, she followed him out into the yard. “Hey, if you want to get impaled by chunks of flying debris, have at it.”

Jake whined from the porch at the sound of their footsteps.

“Abs of steel, Ash. Abs of steel.”

Ignoring him, Ash walked over to his prized log—the log of which artistic careers were made—and ran her finger along it. “Are you ever going to start this? Or are you just going to stare at it again?”

“Did you hear Jax is coming back into town?” he countered, waiting for her to step out of the way before circling the stump, looking for a proper angle of attack. “He’s supposed to be here next week.”

Ashtyn made a face. “I’d hoped that rumor was crap.”

“Didn’t anyone tell you to believe everything you hear?” When she rolled her eyes, he revved the chainsaw loudly. “Okay, I think this is going to be a snake.”

“What?” When Ash yelled to be heard over the chainsaw, Graham revved it again.

“A beaver. I’m making a beaver.”

She looked at him like he was crazy. “A cleaver?”

“No, just a regular kitchen knife!”

Shaking her head, Ash’s lip quirked up. Taking a seat on a nearby lawn chair, intended for that exact purpose of sitting and staring at his soon-to-be masterpiece, Ash picked up a wood chip and lobbed it at his back.

“You can’t take anything seriously.”

“I seriously wish I’d gotten a couple more hours of sleep.” Letting the chainsaw idle, he turned to her. “Hey, do you know anything about the woman who came with Lana?”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“You are so annoying.” Another wood chip bounced off his shoulder blade. “Why do you want to know?”

Graham didn’t have a great answer for that. Instead, he hummed. “I think it should be a fish.”

“Keep practicing, kid.” Ash rose to her feet and met him. Just under six feet tall, she had no trouble patting Graham on the head. “I’ll see you later. Some of us actually have to get to work on time. I’m taking Jake with me. I want some company today.”

If Jake tolerated a life of hanging out behind a grill, he’d made it clear he preferred a life spent flying around with Ash. Graham had long since accepted that sharing custody of his puppy with the Lockett twins was for the best, even though he’d have preferred to keep Jake with him at all times. Sometimes—rarely but sometimes—life wasn’t just about him.

“Remember Jake’s headset. The rotors are too loud. They give him headaches. And I’m not replacing any more of your things if he buries them. You know that’s his stress relief, and I refuse to embarrass him for his needs.”

Snorting, Ash waved a hand in acknowledgment before stealing his dog, putting Jake and his knit cap in the back of her shiny black Jeep. At least he was riding in style. Gravel crunched as they disappeared up the drive. Left alone in the silence of his manly domain of awesomeness, Graham considered his mighty log.

A snake. It should definitely be a snake.

* * *

A shower helped Zoey shed the worst of her muddled thoughts, as did a second cup of coffee. Stuffing her feet into her tennis shoes, she powered through the desire to crawl back onto the couch and sleep off the rest of her hangover. Texting Lana her plans to go hiking, Zoey grabbed her brand-new, airport-acquired Alaska messenger bag and tucked her glittery frog coin purse inside.

There was absolutely no way Zoey was spending her first full day in Alaska inside a hotel room.

When Zoey first realized she had saved enough to make this trip a reality, she hadn’t intended to spend her housing money on a couch in the swankiest resort in the state. An off-season visit had been far more in Zoey’s budget, but Lana kept pushing for her to come these two weeks, when Lana had already planned on being in Alaska. The Fourth of July was the height of the summer tourism season, and any alternate options within comfortable driving distance to Moose Springs had been booked months prior.

Since Moose Springs was the hub of all amazing adventure excursions a person could hope for when visiting Alaska, Zoey had been unable to resist her friend’s offer.

Staying in Anchorage was cheaper, but the lengthy drive and subsequent cost to travel to Moose Springs didn’t make the cheaper rooms worth it. Here in Moose Springs, Zoey wasn’t near the mountains. She was standing on one. Zoey wasn’t going to see the wildlife. Wildlife crisscrossed this town like an opening credit for the Discovery Channel, moose wandering across the roads, along the streets, poking their noses out from the tree lines everywhere.

A couch in a luxury suite might be where Zoey was staying, but she would have slept in a bear-proof dumpster to be here.

Zoey already knew her carefully planned budget would only go so far, but as she stepped out of the elevator and saw the closed entrance to one of the resort’s internationally touted five-diamond restaurants, curiosity got the best of her. A glass case built into the river rock wall displayed the menu. Pushing her glasses higher up the bridge of her nose, she stared at a piece of paper containing only a handful of dishes she even knew.

“Looks like I could afford the side salad.” Shaking her head in bemusement, she glanced lower down the page to the chef’s choice seven-course meal. The price listed pulled a loud and unplanned choking noise from her throat.

“Ma’am? May I help you find something?”

A maid with the wildest mass of curly honey-blond hair beamed at her from behind an enormous stack of towels in her arms, both woman and towels dangerously close to tumbling over.

The badge on her chest read “Hi, I’m Quinn, your Hospitality Specialist.”

“Oh…umm. I’m just…”

“If you’re hungry, there’s a great breakfast served in the—ooooh!” With a squeal, Quinn ducked and swerved, rebalancing the towels as they leaned even farther.

“Do you need help with those? I can carry some if you want.”

Quinn stared at her, eyes widening. Zoey found herself staring back, unaccustomed to seeing so much of another human being’s eyeballs.