Page 1 of Grumpy Bear

1

Luke

“So you’ve never been to a clothing-optional campground before?” Austin arched a dark brow above his sunglasses but kept his eyes on the road.

We were in his yellow Jeep, top down on a Thursday afternoon in early May, some pop-country party anthem low on the stereo, headed to a place called Bear Mountain Lodge.

I shook my head. “Nuh-uh. Never. I’ve been to a couple of gay beaches. I’m a bit of a hippie, but I’m not exactly what you’d call a nudist.”

Austin nodded thoughtfully, lips twisting in his scruffy beard. “I don’t really consider myself much of a nudist either. I mostly go for the sex.”

I snorted, and he flashed a mischievous grin.

I’d known Austin Fox less than twenty-four hours, so I wasn’t sure how much of his horny bluster was talk versus actual prowess. But he was definitely cute enough to be as slutty as he wanted. If you liked big guys and muscles, he was quintessential bear cub beefcake—twenty-six, dark buzz cut, dark eyes. Boyish, despite his facial hair. He was pure smirky, twinkly flirtation on a six-foot frame with a furry chest, massive arms, thick thighs, and a little bit of a belly. He carried it damn well too. He looked a helluva lot cuddlier than most guys that jacked up.

Bonus if you dig your men in plaid button-down shirts with the arms ripped off. This was the second one I’d seen him wearing so far, and I’d watched him pack a whole stack of them.

Austin turned serious. “Listen, Luke. I know a campground may not sound like the most obvious place to apply for a job if you’re new in town, but hear me out.”

He must have picked up on my worries. I’d specifically chosen Edgewood because of its less corporate music scene. I’d spent the past few weeks couch-surfing and catching free rides from Southern California to North Georgia. I certainly hoped heading out of town with a total stranger the day after I’d arrived wasn’t going in the wrong direction.

Austin continued with the sales pitch he’d given me last night and again this morning. “It’s only fifteen miles away. It’s a free place to stay and free food. You’ll make a little bit of cash. And did I mention there are a bunch of naked men running around in the woods?”

I couldn’t help but laugh at him. “Yeah, I think I remember you saying something about that.”

“The thing is, a lot of these guys are local, so it might be a quicker way to make connections and find what you’re looking for than you think.”

“Cool.” I’d spent what little money I had on food and basic toiletries. It was a job. It wasn’t playing music, but it was only temporary.

And it would delay—for a few more days at least—my having to live on the streets. I had a tent, but I hadn’t had to use it yet.

I’d met Austin yesterday, my first day in town. It had been a sunny afternoon, I’d been busking on the sidewalk, and my cover of “Birmingham” by Shovels and Rope stopped him in his tracks. Or so he claimed.

We chatted. He treated me to Mexican. We got a little drunk, it got a little late, and he offered me a place to crash.

I’m pretty sure he was planning to make a move, but I was so exhausted from the stress of traveling and the uncertainty of my situation, I legitimately passed out on his couch. Austin was clearly a sexy, lovable guy but admittedly a bit of a dog and not likely to change anytime soon. I guess you’d call me a unicorn. I liked to think of myself as a free spirit, but I didn’t really do hookups. I required an emotional connection. And a couple of margaritas wasn’t going to change that.

Over the third pitcher, he’d told me about this men’s resort—Bear Camp, he’d called it—where he was headed to work for the summer. He invited me to come along to see if they would hire me too.

Apparently, the campground took on a few extra temporary employees to help clean up and work the opening weekend of the season. Mostly manual labor stuff. Winter tended to take a toll on the hiking trails and gravel roads, and there were a ton of downed limbs and fallen trees that needed to be cleared out. The landscaping got a facelift; the cabins got aired out; and most importantly, the pool got cleaned for the grand opening pool party. For a minimum daily wage, free meals, and free accommodations, the temp employees could work the weekend and also enjoy the pool party, the bonfire, and whatever other random pleasures they could find.

Austin swore they always had people who signed up to work, then flaked and never showed. Last year somebody had brought him along last minute, just like he’d offered to do with me, and it was cool. It led to him getting a seasonal job last summer and again this year.

Worst-case scenario, if they turned me away for some reason, Austin promised he would drive me back to town.

“Bro, they’re not going to turn you away.”

Okay.

So, here I was, on my way to frolic in a forest full of naked men with this happy, horny cub, my first official friend in Georgia.

I glanced over at his meaty forearms and big hands on the wheel. “So, does everybody at this camp look like you? I mean, tell me honestly. What are all these bears gonna think about a guy like me?” I motioned to my worn-out Tragic Kingdom T-shirt, ripped cut-off shorts, and Converse high-tops as if I were asking about my fashion choices and not my scrawny upper body.

Austin pushed his sunglasses on top of his head and squinted at me, appraising me more openly than he’d done so far. “Not all bears like other bears. You’re like… a hot otter but with a little bit of a surfer thing going on. Who doesn’t like that?”

I rolled my eyes. “Thanks. Everybody always thinks I’m a surfer.”

“It’s the long blond hair, bro.”