Page 11 of Claimed By 3 Mountain Men

She nods quickly, but doesn’t speak on the matter further.

“You think the Truitt brothers will keep the business going?” I ask.

“That’s the million-dollar question,” the man chimes in, a gleam in his eye. “Rumor has it they’re at each other’s throats already.”

“You know them well?”

They all laugh in unison like I’ve said something ridiculous.

“Honey, everyone knows the Truitt’s.”

The older woman presses her hand to her chest.

“Hank dated my third daughter.”

“Oh, wow.”

She nods proudly.

“So, the brothers are named Hank, Jack and ...” I ask.

“Ben,” the man finishes.

“Thank you,” I say.

I wait for them to expand before realizing they won’t. As the women return to their conversation, I sip my beer and stare out the window, my mind racing.

“Well, look who it is,” the older woman exclaims under her breath.

A hush falls over the room. I turn to see what’s captured everyone’s attention and my breath catches in my throat.

The Truitt brothers have arrived.

Leading the way is JT, his piercing blue eyes scanning the room with an intensity that’s hard to ignore. He’s dressed casually, a leather jacket over a fitted T-shirt, his jeans and boots look well-worn.

“That’s JT” the older woman whispers into my ear, leaning over the booth. “Then Ben.” She continues, pointing to the second one with sandy blond hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. He’s dressed in a flannel shirt rolled up at the sleeves, exposing strong, work-hardened arms, and sturdy jeans.

“The third one is Hank. The one who dated my daughter.” She gestures to the man bringing up the rear. His hair is thick and unruly, falling into his dark blue eyes. His movements are fluid and almost feline.

Identical Triplets. I had no idea. I remind myself to shut my mouth as I stare at the three copies. All gorgeous and covered in thick, corded muscles.

These are the men who hold the answers to many of my questions, the men who could either help or hinder my research. The men who, unknowingly, have already started to impact my life in ways I’m only beginning to understand.

I take a deep breath and remind myself why I’m here.

To blend in, gather information, and leave without drawing attention to myself. But it’s too late, JT turns and locks his eyes on me just as I’m about to turn away. Under JT’s penetrating stare, I can’t shake the feeling he’s already seen through me.

I’m screwed.

The chatter in the bar picks back up, but it’s like white noise as I watch the Truitt brothers stride up to the counter. They order drinks and take a seat in a corner booth with their backs to the wall, keeping an eye on the room.

My heart thuds.

The evening wears on, and I keep an eye on the brothers, wondering how our paths will cross next. There’s no doubt in my mind that JT remembers me.

I should get out of here before he tries to strike up conversation.

I step outside for a breath of fresh air, the cool night breeze a welcome relief from the warmth of the bar. As I turn the corner, I nearly bump into JT, who’s leaning against the wall, a half-smile playing on his lips.

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