Page 48 of Grumpy Bear

“Well, hey, that sounds like a fun job!”

“It has been so far.”

We walked Danny to his golf cart and said our goodbyes. Once he’d puttered off out of earshot, Coleman leaned toward me. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Helping him back there.”

“Of course.” I stared at him, wondering why a simple courtesy was worth such solemn gratitude.

“And for being nice to him.” His eyes were hooded in the moonlight and his voice remained low. “The younger men around here are not always so… compassionate toward the older guys unless they want something from them.”

“Well, that’s just shitty.” Then it occurred to me. Coleman knew I was basically homeless. I hoped to God he didn’t think I was a gold digger or something. “That is not why I helped him.”

He made an exasperated sound. “Shit. No. Of course not. That’s not what I meant.” He fumed at the ground, scratching the back of his neck. He raised his eyes and took a deep breath. “It just… means a lot… that you’re kind. To everybody. It reflects well on my business, and I appreciate that.”

I didn’t know how to respond. I knew it had taken a lot for him to say something so simple yet blatantly big. He wouldn’t want me to get all sappy, though, and it might scare him off, so I resisted the urge.

We stood there in the shadow of the chapel where he’d parked his UTV, staring at each other for a few beats past comfortable, cicadas blaring around us, muffling the thump of the music from the bar.

He finally spoke, his voice husky in the dark. “Ready to go back to the cabin?”

I swallowed. “I’m ready.”

20

Sawyer

His kindness reflects well on my business.

What the fuck was that?

Luke was nice, helpful, and dependable. That was all true. If I could’ve had a dozen clones of him working here, it would’ve been my dream staff.

Sure.

But him being kind was also actually… surprisingly hot.

And that’s what I should have fucking said.

It was a long ride back to the cabin, and Luke didn’t say a word. He did look over at me a few times with a sleepy smile, but mostly he stared out at the tents. They looked like glowing lanterns strung up the holler between the bottomland near the pool and the lodge.

It was unnervingly quiet this far from the party. Those who stayed in the lodge were usually the ones who preferred to turn in early, and the bunkhouse was deserted.

We walked up the path in silence, then we were inside, finally alone in the cool hush of my cabin, ears ringing from the bar.

Taking a man back to your cabin usually meant something simple and specific. The expectation of sex happening, or at least being attempted, was pretty much guaranteed. It was transactional. There was a politeness that went along with it, at least getting in the door, offering a drink, taking your shoes off. And then you got to it. You got it done. And most times, the guest left soon after. See you later, man and all that.

None of those expectations applied to me and Luke. He wasn’t going anywhere. He really couldn’t. He’d destroyed my nothing’s going to happen mantra when we’d been at the swimming hole earlier. I was pretty sure we both knew something was going to happen now.

But given how we both felt about hooking up, there was no way in hell this was going to be transactional.

It wouldn’t get done. It could only be opened up and started. At best, it would all be over after the weekend. At worst, we were in for a few more really awkward nights.

I could send someone to buy an air mattress first thing in the morning. I was sure one of the RV residents would let me crash on a pullout, and I could leave the cabin to Luke.

Those were all alternatives I hadn’t considered up to this point because a part of me knew I wanted to end up here, stuck in this cabin together.