Page 69 of Claimed By 3 Mountain Men

The four of us—Mac, Hank, JT, and I—are gathered around the long wooden table in the dining room, the same table we’ve all sat at countless times, but tonight, it feels like the room is holding its breath, waiting for something to snap.

We managed to set the trap earlier today, and everything is in place just as Mac had planned out. It had been a long, grueling process, but now, as we sit here, eating dinner in relative silence, the night feels different.

I know what’s on Hank’s mind, and it’s making it impossible to focus or think about anything else.

I saw it all evening into the night. It’s a look I know well.

It’s the same one I have. We want Mac again.

The firelight flickers across the walls, casting long, shifting shadows that seem to dance in time with the unease in the room. I watch Mac from the corner of my eye as she picks at her food, her mind clearly elsewhere. Her head is tilted slightly, the chandelier’s dim light catches on her raven-black hair, flowing down her back, making it shimmer like the dark waters of the creek that runs through our land. She wears it long most of the time, loose and free, just like she is.

There’s something wild about her, something untamed, and it suits her perfectly.

She’s been quiet since we got back, her thoughts probably tangled up in a mess.

JT knows we’ve been out together.

He saw us all come back to the lodge, watched us walk into the house and not mutter a word, but he wants to know.

He’s been glaring at Mac since we sat down, his jaw clenched so tight I half expect him to crack a tooth. He hasn’t said much, but the way he’s watching her, you’d think she was the one who’d set the traps.

Mac sets her fork down.

“Do you want to talk about what’s bothering you, JT?” she asks. Hank and I look at one another. He does everything in his power to hold back a smile. She’s fearless and I find that hot as hell.

JT’s grip tightens on his glass, and I can see the tendons in his forearm bulge as he forces himself to relax.

“No, Mac,” he grumbles, taking a swig of his beer, his eyes never leaving hers. “I don’t have anything to say.”

But his eyes give him away, and Mac isn’t buying it. “Bullshit,” she says, leaning back in her chair. “You’ve been acting like a bear with a thorn in its paw since we got back. So, what’s the problem?”

“Come on, JT,” Hank says, unable to hide his amusement any longer. “You’ve been staring at her all night like she stole your favorite toy. Let’s hear it.”

JT slams his fist on the table, rattling the dishes, and I suppress a curse as I feel a tension headache beginning to form at the base of my skull.

“You want to know what’s bothering me, Mac?” JT asks, his voice thick with sarcasm.

“You, Ben, and Hank were out for hours. You don’t think that looks suspicious?”

“Suspicious?” I repeat, more than surprised to hear what he’s inferring.

“We were setting the trap,” she says, her chin lifting a notch. “Hank helped me carry the deer carcass while Ben set up the cameras. We were focused on catching the person setting traps on the land, not frolicking in the woods, if that’s what you’re implying.”

JT’s face reddens, and he looks away, but not before I see the flicker of guilt in his eyes. “And what about earlier? What were you two doing on the porch? It sure as hell didn’t look like you were discussing traps.”

Hank coughs into his fist, trying to hide a chuckle, and I shake my head.

“We were simply talking.” She tilts her head, and her dark eyes widen. “Is that a problem? Are you jealous?”

I’m positive I see JT’s ears turn a shade of red that would rival a ripe tomato. “I… I just…” he stammers, before letting out a frustrated sigh. “I don’t know, Mac, okay? I don’t like that you’re out there.”

Hank snorts. “Yeah, because you’re her self-appointed bodyguard now?”

“No, but—” JT starts to retort, but Mac thankfully cuts him off.

“Enough,” she says, her voice firm but tired. “We don’t have time for this. We’re all on the same team here, and right now, our focus needs to be on stopping whoever’s been setting these traps, not bickering amongst ourselves. Understood?”

There’s a tense silence.

---