Page 84 of Muscle Cub

“There’s a cabin down there?”

“No. It’s a trailer. Don’t gimme that look. It’s really nice. It’s a double-wide.”

Trailer Park Avenue was a misnamed loop of gravel drive near the front gate nestled between the road through camp and the creek. Although the lots were tiny, every Airstream, RV, fifth-wheel, and trailer boasted elaborate multilevel decks and patios that rivaled the nicest neighborhoods in Edgewood. Awnings, drapes, and vine-covered trellises provided refuge from the sun, and there were more hanging baskets and beds of flowers than the set of a made-for-television rom-com.

I parked close to a prefab shed with racks of kayaks and canoes, grabbed my bags, and took the bridge to a shady path along the opposite bank of the creek.

The path ended at a clearing in the trees. In the middle of a starkly mown lot, a large gray box of a building sat on a scaffolding of metal bars three feet off the ground. Long horizontal stains along the exterior siding suggested there had once been a deck or screen porch, but now there was only a concrete block of steps leading up to the door, without even so much as a railing or an overhang.

As I unlocked the door with the key Jim had given me, I looked back at all the landscaping porn I’d driven past. The footbridge might as well have been a portal to another world.

I had to admit, the interior shocked me. It was sparsely but tastefully furnished, with a gray linen sectional facing a stacked stone fireplace and a picture window overlooking the creek. A bar separated the main living room from a full-size, modern kitchen. Wide-plank floors, exposed ceiling beams, and skylights gave it the look and feel of a lake house.

Pretty fucking nice for a vacation rental—a palace compared to the cabin Eric and Ben had rented—but then it had belonged to a millionaire author.

The hallway leading to the bedrooms was a tunnel of empty bookshelves. The primary bedroom was minimal and spotless.

This was where Austin and I would finally be alone together. A serious upgrade from a tent.

I put away my things and spent some time setting the stage for tonight. I placed candles and a Bluetooth speaker I’d brought from home on the bedside tables. I tucked a few clean hand towels, a tin of breath mints, and a bottle of lube into one of the drawers.

I wanted everything to be perfect.

The anticipation made me anxious. I drank a beer and paced around the space until I finally decided to hike up to the lodge early. I didn’t want to get Austin into trouble while he was working, but maybe I’d at least catch a glimpse of him.

I arrived at the lodge with about an hour to spare until dinner, but there was a lot of activity in the kitchen, and the porches were packed with guys waiting, hanging out, and socializing. No one that I knew. When Ben and Eric and Eric’s musician friends had been here, at least I’d felt like I belonged to a group.

I smiled and said hello whenever anyone made eye contact. Several guys gave me daddy bucks. I smiled and graciously thanked them, but the attention embarrassed me. I went to the lodge library and pretended to be engrossed in perusing the shelves.

I wondered if they had any Jody Summers books. I’d never read one, but staying at his place had made me curious, and they were considered the epitome of beach reads. Over the past four decades, the man had probably authored over a hundred bestsellers, the kind of juggernaut books sold in airports and grocery store checkout lines. By sheer odds alone, there should be a few. The branding had been consistent and familiar since I was a kid—glossy jewel-toned covers with the author’s name in a gilded typeface taking up every bit of space it could, the title almost a secondary afterthought.

Here we go. A cracked paperback spine that had once been bright aquamarine. I slipped it out enough to peek at the cover.

Hollywood Pool Boy.

I smirked at the synchronicity. Although Austin was probably more of a Dollywood pool boy…

I was tempted, but I’d downloaded last year’s Pulitzer Prize and Booker winning novels to my Kindle before leaving home.

“Finding anything good?”

The voice startled me, and I slammed the book back into its slot on the shelf. “Just, uh… browsing.”

The guy smiled. He wore a T-shirt with an image of a leather man riding a bear. “I saw you earlier and wanted to give you this.” He handed me a red bear buck.

I introduced myself, and we chatted until dinner was called and everyone started lining up.

“It was nice meeting you.” He nodded at my lanyard. “He’s a lucky man, by the way.”

While I was in line for the buffet, more guys gave me their bucks, and so did almost everyone at the table where I sat to eat. I tried to employ the strategy I’d used when I did book signings. I asked them their names and got them to talk about themselves. Everyone was as friendly and welcoming as they’d been on my first trip. I did my best to engage in conversation while watching Austin work the room. He was so adept at being the center of attention, but whenever he passed and his hands were free, he squeezed my shoulder, letting me know he was aware of my presence too.

It made me feel proud.

When the others got up to leave, I lingered, facing my bucks in the same direction, hoping for a chance to speak to Austin when he came to wipe down the table.

He appeared with a rag in one hand and a fanny pack in the other. “I think you’re gonna need this.”

I made a show of putting my bucks in the pockets of my cargo shorts. “I can manage.”