Page 70 of Claimed By 3 Mountain Men

“I’m not jealous,” JT finally adds on, then pushes his chair back and storms out of the room.

“Well, that went well,” Hank mutters, once the bedroom door slams.

Mac sighs, running a hand through her hair. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to start a fight.”

“It’s not your fault,” I say, and I mean it.

JT’s been on edge ever since this whole thing started, and I can’t blame him. But taking it out on Mac was a low blow, and we both know it. “He’s just under a lot of pressure.”

Hank snorts. “That’s one way of putting it.”

Mac stands up, her chair scraping on the floor, and carries her plate over to the sink. “I’m going to get some fresh air,” she mumbles, and before either one of us can stop her, she’s out the door, slamming it behind her.

Hank and I look at each other, then he gets to his feet, and makes his way over to the liquor cabinet. After fussing through it for a moment, he pulls out a glass bottle of thick, heavy amber colored liquor.

“Tonight is a bourbon night,” he says, slamming a glass in front of me and himself.

“Pour one for me,” JT says as he emerges from his room.

“Now, you’re talking,” I say, sliding over a full glass after Hank pours it for him. “How you holding up?” I ask, watching him with a steady gaze. He lolls his head to the side, his gaze dropping toward the floor. “It’s hard to say. But I think I’m alright. I’ll feel better when this is all over. Dad’s lawyers are making some headway with the money and papers, but it’s going to go to probate and some other nonsense.”

His words fade, and we sit in silence for a moment, catching movement out the front window. It’s Mac.

The fading sunlight bathes her in a warm glow, accentuating the curve of her jawline and the delicate slope of her neck. Her full lips are slightly parted. She’s unlike any of the womenaround here. Hank and JT's gazes both linger on her figure, mesmerized by her beauty.

“There’s something about her that makes me…” JT’s voice trails off.

“Jealous?” I ask, finishing his sentence for him.

He looks at me, and then Hank, and then finally his gaze softens. “Yeah, I guess so. I just… I don’t know.”

Hank and I exchange a glance.

“What?” JT asks, picking up on our silent communication.

“I think you like her, man,” Hank says, unable to contain his grin. “You’ve got the fever bad, and it’s making you act like a certified asshole.”

“That’s not why I’m acting like a jerk. I’m trying to make sure she doesn’t fuck us over, all while dealing with the mess Dad left us. Or have you both forgotten?”

“No,” I say, shaking my head. “You’ve got it all twisted. She’s out here trying to care for the forest. She’s doing a good thing. In fact, she could be helping us.”

JT finishes his drink in one swig then shakes his empty glass.

“I need another.”

I bring the bottle to the couch, where he’s sitting and set it on the coffee table in front of him.

“Did you hear what I said?” I ask.

“Yeah. I just don’t believe it.”

“You take everything too seriously,” Hank says, sitting down in the heavy armchair near the fireplace. “Life’s too damn short.”

Hank was right. Losing dad was a stark reminder that at any second, we could all lose everything that was important to us. We had almost lost Mac just the other night. It was a sobering thought.

I bend over and start a fire, tossing a few heavy logs into the fireplace. It takes a moment for the orange flames to ignite. Soon the warmth of the fire is spreading through the dark, still house.

“What if she’s right about Dad?” JT asks, breaking the silence.

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