Page 7 of Grumpy Bear

Jim’s eyes narrowed. “What kind of music do you play?”

The sudden change in subject took me by surprise, but it was a topic I was comfortable talking about. “Just about anything you want. I take requests.”

“He’s awesome.” Austin’s praise was borderline embarrassing.

“What about the classic ladies of country?” It was obvious Jim was daring to hope.

“Are we talking Shania and Faith, or are we going all the way back to Dolly and Loretta?”

Jim gasped and his eyes flashed. He growled low in his throat like I’d offered him a blow job.

“Do you play too?” I lifted my chin toward the Hummingbird.

He followed my line of sight. “No, no, no. That belonged to a friend.” He seemed on the verge of saying something more, but then he waved it away and collected himself. “We’ll come back to that. First things first.” He studied me one long last time, tugging at his beard. Finally, he seemed to come to a decision. “Do you have any tarps? You are absolutely gonna need a tarp.”

I turned to Austin. I didn’t recall seeing anything in the back of the Jeep. All I had was the shitty little rain fly that came with the tent. He pulled a face. “No, bro. Sorry, I don’t.”

Jim interrupted him. “No worries. I’m sure we can find a spare around here somewhere.” He picked up a walkie-talkie. “Sawyer, Sawyer, Jim.” There was a crackle and a brief garbled response. “You still up there?”

“Walking back now.”

“Come to the office.”

Jim looked up and motioned me back impatiently as if I were the one holding everything up. “Well, get on back here. You’re gonna need to fill out some paperwork.” The spark returned to his eye. “And then I have a few musical requests.”

4

Sawyer

I rushed into the lodge to find some dude with a fucking man bun in the lobby performing Dolly Parton’s “Jolene” on an acoustic guitar.

Jim stood there swaying with an enraptured look on his face like he thought he was in church.

Levi and Bailey had stopped prepping and wandered in from the kitchen in their dirty aprons, bopping their heads with big dumb grins on their faces.

Austin was beaming at everybody like he had personally discovered the guy. And fucked him, no doubt. Probably last night’s trick. Austin was slutty and adorable—a deadly combination he barely offset by being a hard worker and an even nicer guy.

I was glad to have him back.

But this singer… He was lanky and a little on the pretty side with long dirty-blond hair. Were those highlights or was he actually some kind of sun-kissed surfer? Which was he—a surfer or a cowboy? He had a scruffy dark-blond beard around full lips and white teeth. He looked like a guy who was used to everybody swooning over him.

Like these gooners who called themselves my employees.

I stopped on the welcome mat, hands on my hips, trying to process what in the actual gay hell I was looking at.

We had these rock star types wander over from Edgewood every once in a while. I hoped Jim wasn’t auditioning this guy or—God forbid—had already hired him. The last thing I needed in my life was another musician. Not to mention, I’d already told Jim it was okay to go five hundred bucks over the entertainment budget to get two DJs up from Atlanta. One could spin poolside at the cabana bar during the day, and the other could set up in The Cubby Hole at night without one guy having to move equipment back and forth. DJ Danny had been bitching about having to move his equipment for the past three years.

Surfer Cowboy did have a good voice. I’d give him that.

And maybe under torture you could have forced me to admit he was also extremely easy to look at.

My sudden appearance in the room seemed to throw him a little bit. It probably had something to do with the fact I was shirtless and wet with mud on my chest.

We made eye contact, and he visibly faltered.

To cover it, he rushed through the final chords, strumming quickly and bringing the song to a somewhat silly end, considering the authentic pain that had been all over his face as he’d been crooning away.

He blushed deeply when the guys broke into applause. Oh please. No way he was a stranger to attention. When he glanced at me a second time, I almost thought the blush might be because of me, not the adoration of his new fans.