Chapter Three

"Please tell me we're not doing glamping now," my assistant, and also my brother, Salem, said as I came into the office. We held no office hours but both drifted in somewhere between seven and eight.

"What in the hell is glamping?" I asked. My voice was still raspy as it was most mornings. "I know camping."

He chuckled. "I'm googling it. Hold on."

While he did, I made my way to the coffeepot and poured a large cup, adding nothing to it. I needed my caffeine straight up this morning. "How did you even hear the term?"

He grumbled a bit—nothing intelligent. "Someone emailed, asking if we had glamping accommodations. Wait. Here it is. Gods above. It's glamorous camping. This site says it offers deluxe canvas tents with king-sized blow-up beds. Internet service. Air-conditioning and heating and all meals served inside the tent."

"That's not camping. That's a glorified hotel. Tell them no. We do camping. Survival classes. Desert excursions. Period. This isn't the Ritz."

My chest twinged a bit. I had taken Colt to the Ritz on a trip one year. Of course, I could only stay two nights because I had to rush back to my job.

"You have the list for me?" I asked, gulping my coffee, taking some enjoyment from the burn as it flowed down my throat.

"Yes. It's right here. And bring me a burger back, will ya?"

I chuckled, grabbing my backpack. No matter where I went, I took it. We lived at least fifty miles outside of the nearest town. There was no telling what could happen between here and there. "No one said I'm stopping at Billy's."

My brother stood and flipped me off. We were close in age, so we were more like best friends than brothers. We play-fought all the time, but I'd bury someone in a deep cave if they ever hurt him. "Cut the shit and get me a double, Bjorn. Oh, and don't forget to check the mail."

"Will do. Call if you need anything."

I got in my old truck and took off toward the closest medium-sized town. I had the list of supplies we needed folded into the mirror on the visor and my phone charging next to me even though I kept it charged. I belted out the songs offered by the local radio station as I got closer and finally got a signal.

The town, though it was small compared to a city, boasted one of those big-box stores. I followed the list to a T but always picked up a few more items. When you lived as far away from civilization as we did, you had to be prepared.

Once the shopping was done and my truck was filled, I stopped in the post office and checked the mail. Salem would've pitched a fit if I didn't. But if it wasn't for him, I wouldn't have a business at all. He ran everything from the website to the accounts and everything in between.

With the stack of mail tucked under my arm, I went over to Billy's and sat in my regular booth a few minutes before the lunch service started. The waiter, someone I didn't recognize, poured a glass of ice water for me and took my order.

While I waited, I decided to go through the envelopes I'd tossed on to the bench seat beside me.

Checks. Bills. More Bills. Some place called the Bearclaw Inn. Huh. Never seen that before, and the place's return address was across the damned country.

Maybe another YouTube collaborator wanting to do a video on our business.

They came from all over, but Salem had learned to be choosy after we got a group of omegas who did nothing but complain the entire video because we didn't have bathrooms in the middle of the freaking desert. They posted the video on YouTube, but the comments all supported us. A ton of groups came in afterward, wanting to do our excursions and classes because of what they thought was a negative video and wanted to confirm it. Instead, we got more business than ever and more fantastic reviews.

"Double cheeseburger with onion rings and a chocolate shake. Get my attention when you're ready for that to-go order, and I brought you ketchup along with the house fry sauce. Goes great with the onion rings. Anything else I can get you, Bjorn?"

I cocked my head. "How did you know my name?" I saw his name tag. "Arthur?"

"Oh. You probably don't remember me. I came to do some of your survival classes a few years ago when I was finishing up a scout thing."

I didn't. We had so many people come through and, honestly, Salem took the lead on most of the scouting groups.

"I'm sorry. I don't. You're working here now?" I asked.

"I am. Putting myself through college, so Billy is nice about my schedule."

"Good for you. I'll let you know about the to-go order."

I scarfed my burger down in less than fifteen minutes, along with the onion rings. Salem and I both knew how to cook and had to since there were no restaurants near us, but nothing compared to Billy's burger and fries. Not even my own smash burgers.

After Arthur bagged up my order for Salem, I got back on the road. My bear really didn't give two shits about the mail but for some reason, he kept nudging me through our bond, trying to get me to pay attention to the envelope with the wax seal on the back.

I'd give it to Salem. If it was anything important, he would let me know.