Page 72 of Claimed By 3 Mountain Men

It’s obvious they’ve been talking about me, or rather, us. “Don’t even deny it, I have ears and I’m not an idiot.” I walk over to the other armchair near Hank and sit down, my heart pounding in my chest. “Well?” I ask, crossing my legs.

Hank hands me a drink, and I take the glass, savoring the woody scent of the bourbon before taking a sip. I don’t know what I was expecting—burning, or maybe some sort of magic to help me relax, but in the end, it’s just—bourbon.

“So, is this where you all gather to talk about the women in your life?” I ask, setting my empty glass down on the table with a thud. “Sorry to interrupt your man-party.”

“Man party?” Ben repeats.

“Is that what you think this is?”

“Well, what else would it be?” I ask, holding my hand out for a refill.

“It’s complicated,” Hank says, pouring me another drink.

“Is that what they’re calling it now?” I say wryly, taking the glass from him.

“I mean the situation,” he says, his cheeks flushing slightly.

I take a swig of the amber liquid, feeling the burn as it slides down my throat. “Complicated, huh?”

“You don’t know the half of it, “JT says, finishing his drink. “We’re just trying to figure out what to do with you.”

“What do you mean, with me?”

“Don’t mind him,” Ben says, giving JT a dirty look. “He’s had one too many drinks.”

“There’s nothing that any of you have to do with me! You’re the ones making extra work for yourselves.”

“We’re just… surprised, I guess,” Hank says, giving me a friendly nudge. “You’re not what we expected, that’s all.”

“How so and what exactly did you expect, Hank?”

“Well, you’re different,” he says, scratching the back of his neck.

“Different as in?”

“Well, for starters, you can hold your liquor better than most of the men around here,” he says with a grin.

“Thanks, I guess,” I say, choosing to take that as a compliment. “But that doesn’t answer my question.”

“We just…”

Before he can finish his sentence, JT cuts him off.

“We didn’t think you’d last a day out here in the middle of nowhere, with the trees and the animals. But you’ve done more than last.”

I stare at all three Truitt boys. My gaze sweeps over them, taking in their rough, calloused hands and strong, sturdy builds. They seem almost like trees themselves, rooted firmly in this land.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean? That I couldn’t handle myself out there?” I snap back, staring at all three of them. “I can handle a lot more than any of you.”

“No one said that” Ben says, his voice conciliatory. “It’s just?—”

“Just what?”

“You’re different than we expected, that’s all,” Hank repeats. “In a good way.”

I take a moment to process that, my cheeks burning at his words. “I see.”

“What, is that so hard to believe?” JT says, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

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