Page 19 of Grumpy Bear

Oh. Okay.

Of course Coleman had hooked up with him. Trey was in a league of his own. I would imagine he was hot by anybody’s standards but in a more conventional mainstream way. Maybe that was Coleman’s type, something different from himself. Like Austin had said, not all bears liked other bears.

Not to mention, I was pretty sure Coleman could have his pick of anybody he wanted. Among other things, he owned the place. These guys might joke about what a dick he was—he was the boss, and it came with the territory—but there was no denying he was physically gorgeous.

Trey lingered, casually stretching his arms overhead, his half-shirt riding up to reveal the superhuman belt of muscle he had instead of a waist. Both Coleman and Jim glanced up at him, probably because he was standing three feet in front of their table. As Austin and I watched, Trey pretended to suddenly notice them. He gave them a shark-like smile and demurely mouthed hello.

Jim spoke to him, but Coleman concentrated on the food on his plate.

Austin made a gagging sound. “This is fucking painful to watch. How long is he going to stand there posing like that? Sawyer’s clearly ignoring him.”

“So, then, they’re not, like… together?”

Austin snorted. “With Trey? Please. I don’t think the boss is capable anyway.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, dating or whatever. He was partnered up with this rich older dude, the man who founded this place, for years and years. And then the guy died, and… I don’t know. I guess he’s been all shut down and shit ever since.”

“Oh.” That explained a lot. The grumpiness, the allergy to small talk. What came across as anger was probably pain. “So he’s in mourning then?”

Austin shrugged. “Could be. He supposedly still picks one dude each season—just one—for a meaningless fuck. Can you imagine? Living in the middle of a fucking bear buffet and only getting off once a year?” He shuddered.

Trey was saying goodbye to Jim and Coleman.

Coleman barely turned his head and mumbled something.

Jim’s hearty voice carried across the room. “Don’t stay up too late, Trey. We’ve got a big day tomorrow. Get you some rest.”

Trey held up his hand in a scout’s honor and left the dining hall.

Coleman rose soon after, ignoring Jim’s loud reminder there was pecan pie. I could have sworn he glanced over at our table before slipping out the door.

Was he following Trey? Going to catch up with him so they could talk without everyone watching?

The thought left me with a vague sense of disappointment.

10

Sawyer

I’d promised Luke I’d find him some decent bedding. I wanted to grab it from my cabin and leave it in his tent before he got back from dinner.

Trey was lingering at the bottom of the steps, but I blew past him with a tight smile, hoping it looked like I had somewhere to be.

Trey was definitely a regret. At the time, he’d seemed well within my fuck them on the last night only rule. He’d worked here temporarily last August. Jim had hired him on work-weekend status at the end of the season. We usually didn’t do that, but two of our guys had run off with a guest to become part of a throuple leaving us short-handed on a particularly slammed Labor Day. It had been the Tuesday night after the weekend was over. Trey was leaving the next morning for wherever he’d come from. Atlanta, maybe? We didn’t expect him to be back. He didn’t seem to be one of us. He didn’t vibe with anybody. He didn’t even particularly seem to like it here much. He wasn’t part of the family.

I’d been horny, and Trey had a great body. He wasn’t the average cub who showed up around here. He was definitely a city boy.

Trey had openly hit on me for five days. He’d let me know he was a sure thing if I was interested. I bet every man he’d ever propositioned had said yes.

That alone made me want to turn him down, but he caught me at a weak moment.

I’d gone for a late-night shower in the employee bathhouse because I couldn’t sleep. I found him there in the aftermath of his long weekend, either washing the other men off him or hoping to catch a little more action before he left camp.

He moved to kiss me under the spray, his mouth reeking of some sweet liquor, and I stopped him, claiming I didn’t kiss.

A total lie. I could barely get it up without kissing, but he didn’t have the sense or sensitivity to be discouraged.