Page 83 of Muscle Cub

The dog gave a low, grumbly bark like someone muttering under their breath.

“Oh, hush, Karen Walker!” Jim shook his head. “Please forgive her rudeness. She can’t stand to think somebody might be more famous than she is.” Jim turned to Luke. “Honey, grab me the keys to the Summers’s place.” He slapped a clipboard in front of me and scribbled an X at the bottom of a form. “Jody would’ve been so thrilled to know you’re staying there. We promised him we’d hold on to the place until we can find another writer who wants to take it over. I offered it to ol’ what’s his name, but he only comes once a year and always wants to stay in the same cabin.”

I silently prayed Austin hadn’t set me up for one of those timeshare scenarios where they’d hit me up with a sales pitch at the end of the weekend.

Sensing my hesitation, Jim made a dismissive gesture. “You’re just signing in, honey. I promise it’s not a lease or a mortgage.” He laughed.

I scanned the safety and liability boilerplate and scrawled my signature.

Jim slid the key across the counter along with a laminated name badge and a rainbow spread of bear bucks. “Did Austin explain to you how all this works?”

Austin smiled. “He already picked up a handful right here in the lobby.”

Jim inclined his head and stage-whispered, “Sounds like we’ve got a contender.”

“Wait’ll everybody sees his Big Top look.” Austin waggled his eyebrows.

I started to move away so Jim could help the next guest, but he stopped me. “One more thing, honey. Which color lanyard did you want?” He pointed to three boxes containing variously colored lanyards similar to those given out at conferences.

“Um.” I realized I’d seen other men wearing them. Knowing that hankie colors and leather armband placement communicated sexual roles and proclivities, I assumed the lanyards conveyed similar significance.

Before I could think of how to ask, Jim rattled off an explanation of the options he was clearly used to repeating. “Blue means you’re single ready to mingle. With consent. Green, you’re married or partnered but open. Terms negotiable. Red means you’re not participating in sex, monogamous, or in an exclusive relationship.”

Jim cut his eyes to Austin, who had braced his elbow on the counter, chin in his hand, nonchalantly watching me. Luke was watching too.

Austin and I hadn’t discussed labels. It wasn’t a conversation I’d expected to have this early, but considering there was likely some truth behind his joke about talking about his feelings, maybe it was easier to communicate my own this way.

I wasn’t interested in anyone else. Austin was the only one. He was the reason I was here. The choice was simple.

I took a red lanyard from the box.

Austin shifted his hand to cover his mouth, but he couldn’t entirely hide his smile or the blush on his cheeks.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Jim quickly occupying himself with something on his computer.

Austin stood up straight. He drew in a breath like he was about to say something, but then he shook his head, exhaling without a word.

“What?” I searched his dark eyes. Austin wasn’t wearing a lanyard. None of the staff were. Maybe because they wore uniform shirts. My heart pounded, and my voice sounded faraway. “Is this okay?”

Nodding furiously, Austin slipped the red lanyard over my head. He clipped my name badge through the hook and kissed me on the cheek.

28

Returning down the narrow road against the flow of approaching vehicles required concentration and both hands on the wheel. I kept trying to hold Austin’s hand and then dropping it to get through a few tricky spots. Every time I stole a glance his way, he was watching me.

“What?” I was dying to know what he was thinking about the choice I’d made.

He smiled. “You’re so handsome.”

Austin directed me to pull into a service space behind the pool complex at the bottom of the hill, grabbed my lanyard, and used it to pull me over the console for a kiss. He opened his mouth to mine, and our tongues had barely touched when his radio went off.

“Who was stocking the ice?” a grumpy voice demanded.

Austin jerked away from me and waved out the window at Sawyer, who was staring at us from the ice cooler. “Coming!” Austin called. He plucked his radio out of the cup holder. “Unfortunately, I’m on the clock. I gotta go get screamed at, then finish setting up both bars before dinner. But I’ll see you up there, okay?” He quickly kissed me one more time and jumped out of the truck.

“Wait. Where am I staying?”

“Oh, right! It’s down near the boathouse at the far end of Trailer Park Avenue. There’s a footbridge over the creek. It’s the only one on the other side.”