Page 5 of Claimed By 3 Mountain Men

Wait. I squint my eyes.First class?

“Is there a problem with your new seat?” he asks, a glint of amusement in his eyes.

“Uh, no, It’s just… I’ve never flown first class before.”

He grins and shrugs. “Well, today’s your lucky day then.”

“Thank you,” I mutter under my breath, unable to help the heat crawling up my neck.

“Who knew we were both headed to Silver Ridge,” he chuckles. He reaches over. “I can carry this for you. Ready?”

I gingerly hand him my carry-on.

As we board the plane, I can’t help but wonder if this is just a stroke of good luck or if fate has something else in store for me.

First class is really something else. The seats are plush and wide, with ample legroom and an air of quiet luxury. Blue Eyes places my carry-on in the overhead compartment with ease, then gestures for me to take the window seat.

“Figured you might enjoy the view,” he says, settling into the aisle seat beside me. His broad shoulders and long legs take up more space than I expected, but he seems comfortable, leaning back.

“I can’t believe this,” I mumble, glancing around at the other first-class passengers who seem so at ease. “Thank you again. This is… incredible and very generous.”

He waves off my gratitude. “No need to thank me. I figured it’d be nice to have some company on the flight.”

I smile, trying to relax into the moment. “So, you travel to Silver Ridge often?”

“Every now and then,” he replies, leaning back in his seat. “I have some business to take care of up there. How about you? First time?”

“Yes,” I admit. “I’ve read a lot about it, though. I’m excited to finally see it in person.”

He nods, his eyes sparkling with interest. “It’s a beautiful place, though it can be a bit rough around the edges. But you look like someone who can handle a bit of roughness.”

I blush, heat creeping into my cheeks.

“I guess we’ll see,” I stammer, looking out the window.

The engines roar to life, and soon we’re hurtling down the runway before lifting off into the sky. The view from above is breathtaking.

“Two glasses of red wine, please,” he says without so much as a glance in my direction to the stewardess, as she passes by in her six inch heels and perfect make up.

I immediately begin toying with the hem of my worn, oversized cotton t-shirt.

This feels foolish.

He’s just being nice to me. The stewardess is the type of woman he probably dates anyway.

I should say something. Find the right words, but I’m too nervous.

His dark eyelashes make shadows over his cheeks, the trim of his 5-o'clock shadow rough against his olive skin. I open my mouth to say something,anything!

I could at least ask him his name.

Two glasses of wine seem to appear almost immediately. He takes them from the stewardess, and judging from the flutter of her lashes, she too has clearly fallen under his spell.

I am mesmerized by the way his full, perfectly shaped lips tip up at the end in a smirk as he hands me my glass.

“To good company,” he toasts, holding his glass out to mine.

“To good company,” I echo, taking a large gulp of the wine.

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