Page 39 of Grumpy Bear

“No shit.”

“It’s the reason the WiFi sucks so badly on the property. It’s intentional. Having people live-streaming their amateur orgies is a bit of a legal liability.”

“Are you shitting me?”

“No. We took down all but three of the routers. We tell everybody it’s so they can unplug, go off the grid, be present in nature, connect with their fellow man.”

“That’s kinda brilliant.”

“Speaking of the dam being fucked up…” I toed off my boots, put my walkie inside one of them, stripped off my shirt and dropped my shorts onto the flat rock at my feet. I’d gone through these very motions in this very spot hundreds of times, but with Luke’s eyes on me…

I might have been more comfortable being live-streamed, and I hated cameras pointed at me.

A flat shelf of black rock ran along the southern edge of the pool, wide as a city sidewalk, covered in a carpet of thick green moss. “If you go in right here, it’s a little easier on your feet. But be careful when you first step down on these rocks right under the surface. They’re fairly flat and smooth, but they’re slick as shit.”

Once in up to my thighs, I pushed off and rolled onto my back with a splash and a roar I couldn’t help. “Fucking hell that’s cold!”

Luke, fully naked now, picked his way down to the water, focused on his footing, arms out like a tightrope walker, thigh muscles tensed. Sunlight and leaf shadows moved across his body like some kind of CGI magic. Naked, he looked even more like an elf or a satyr—a mythological creature in some Narnian porn.

“Don’t bust your ass,” I warned, technically staring as his cock and balls drew up.

“How cold is it?”

“I don’t keep a fucking pool thermometer in here. Come on, Surfer Cowboy. Get in.”

“Is it deep enough to dive?”

“It’s about seven feet deep right here. I’m treading. Keep the angle shallow and you oughta be fine.”

He arrowed into the deep, dark-green center of the pool where I knew it had to be freezing. He came up gasping.

“It’s about twenty degrees warmer over here,” I promised.

It sounded like a ploy to get him to come closer, but he was quick to oblige, sighing as the sun hit his shoulders.

He treaded water beside me, close enough I could see droplets of water on his lashes. Now, with his hair slicked back, he was more water spirit than elf.

Shit. I was a total fantasy nerd, wasn’t I?

Wayne had always made fun of how cheesy some of my book covers were and bitched about how many of them I’d acquired. I don’t think I ever saw him read anything except Rolling Stone.

Knowing Luke read the same kind of books had opened some secret, locked up library in my mind. A part of myself nobody had connected with in so long that I’d forgotten it was possible to share it… if I had ever known.

17

Luke

Coleman was watching me. No, he was considering me.

He shook the water from his hair like a dog, like he was dislodging his thoughts. He cleared his throat before finding his words. “Yeah. So. The dam. Here’s what we need to do.”

As we waded to the downstream end of the pool our movements sent buckets of water sloshing over the edge.

Coleman showed me the thick plastic sheeting sandwiched between two layers of rock wall, the excess flopping over the top. He explained that we could raise the wall at least a foot by adding two more rows of stones.

“Ingenious. I love how it blends in. You can hardly tell it’s there.”

He ignored my compliment. “If we can get it the right height and put a layer of cap stones across it, you won’t even be able to see the plastic at all. But right now, I’m not worried about how pretty it is. I need it to be functional.”