Page 29 of Claimed By 3 Mountain Men

“The hell you off to?” I ask him.

“What does it matter?” he asks.

“It doesn’t.”

He studies me for a moment, then continues toward the truck. “I’m headed into town for groceries and to run a few errands. Some of the equipment needs some work. I want to fix it up and get it ready for winter.”

I nod.

Great. Can’t follow the asshole, but I might be able to follow his tracks from yesterday since we didn’t get any rain. We’ve all got big feet, size eighteen. Should be no problem to see his work boots in the mud.

“Where’s JT?” he asks, opening the driver door to the truck.

“Meeting with lawyers.”

“You alright, bro?” he asks.

“Fine.” He sees right through my lie, but luckily, he doesn’t press because he knows that I’m on to him.

He pauses before getting in. “I’ll see you around then.”

“Sure. I’ll be here, holding the fort down.” I wait until his truck disappears at the top of the hill onto the main road and is well out of sight. “Let’s see what you’ve been up to, bro.”

I follow the path Ben took last night, his tracks still visible in the dew-dampened earth. The ground is soft, the indentations of his boots clear and easy to follow.

If he's up to something, it’s got to be important. But I can’t shake the feeling that whatever he’s involved in, it’s something he doesn’t want JT and I to know about. But now was not the time to be keeping secrets from one another. He knows that.

The trail leads deeper into the woods, winding through thick underbrush and between towering pines. The air is crisp, filled with the scent of pine needles and damp earth.

His tracks stay close to the trails we commonly use, but I’m surprised at how far he’s been going. Every turn I think he would’ve stopped, he kept going deeper into the property. After a while, just as I’m about to reach the edge I come across amakeshift camp. A small tent is set up in a clearing, hidden well away from any road or main trails.

And there’s that biologist girl from the bar. It takes me a moment, but I remember her name.

Mac.

Her long, raven-black hair is pulled back in a messy bun, and her skin glows in the morning light. She’s focused, determined, and completely unaware of my presence.

She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.

She’s dressed in a pair of short jean shorts that show off the full length of her toned legs and a loose tank top, no bra underneath.

The realization hits me like a punch to the gut.

Has Ben been meeting her here?

I grind my teeth together.

Goddamn it.

My anger simmers just below the surface as I watch her, completely engrossed in her work. She’s setting up more cameras, jotting down notes in a worn-looking notebook, her brow furrowed in concentration.

I step out from behind the tree, my boots crunching on the underbrush. Mac hears the noise and looks up, a soft smile forming on her lips.

“Ben, you’re back early,” she says, her voice tinged with relief. “Didn’t think you’d come by this morning.”

I pause, caught off guard by her assumption. But I decide to play along, if only for a second. “Yeah, figured I’d check in on you,” I say, my tone casual.

“I wanted to talk about the other day at the lake. I’ve never you know. This is embarrassing—” She starts to say something else, but then she hesitates, her brow furrowing. Her eyes narrow slightly as she takes a closer look at me. “Wait a minute… You’re not Ben.”

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