Page 73 of Claimed By 3 Mountain Men

“I’m not some helpless damsel in distress, waiting for her knight in shining armor to save her.”

“No one ever said you were,” JT says, his voice hard.

“You don’t have to get so defensive,” Hank waves his hand in front of him. “We’re just trying to have a conversation here.”

“Well, maybe I don’t feel like having a conversation,” I say, “Why does everything have to be so serious with all of you, all the time. Can’t we have some fun for once?”

“Fun? You call this fun?” JT says, gesturing to the tense faces around the room.

“No, not this… this,” I say, mimicking his gesture. “I mean, you know, fun. Like dancing, or… or going out. Do you guys even know how to have fun out here in the sticks?”

“We know how to have fun,” Hank says, grinning. “We just haven’t had much reason to lately.”

“Well, I’m here now, aren’t I? And I’m all about having a good time. So, what do you say, boys? Wanna show me how the locals of Silver Ridge have fun?”

“Fun?” JT asks raising his eyebrows. “Is that what you’re here for, Mac? A vacation?”

“No, JT. Goddamn it, can’t we just have one night without talking about poaching, the freaking traps, my motives or whatever else is on your mind?”

The room fills with an uncomfortable silence, broken only by the ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner of the room and the fire that continues to roar.

“We’re sorry, Mac,” Ben says, his voice low and sincere. “You’re right, we’ve been pretty intense around here lately. We should... unwind.”

“Exactly,” I say, standing up. “What games do you have around here?” I look around the room, all I see are shelves full of trophies, family photos, and leather bound books.

“There’s a set of poker chips and cards,” Ben says, pointing to a tall built in shelf in the dining room.

“Great! Who’s up for a game of poker?” I ask.

“Well, I’m in,” Hank says, grinning. “What did you have in mind?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” I say, sauntering over to the table in the corner of the room. The deck of cards catches my attention. The bourbon has my sense of logic flatly numbed, in fact, I have quite the buzz now and I’m feeling more than bold.

“Texas hold 'em?”

“Boring,” JT groans.

“You think that’s boring?” I ask.

He nods. “I win. I always win. It’ll be no fun.”

“I really doubt that,” I say.

He shrugs. “You guys play without me.”

“How about… Strip Poker?” I say, meeting each of their eyes in the room. “That sounds like fun, doesn’t it? Or would that be too boring and scary for JT?”

The smirk on Hank’s face threatens to split his face in half, while JT and Ben exchange uneasy glances. “I don’t know about this,” JT says, his cheeks flaming.

“What’s the matter, JT? Afraid you’ll lose?” I say, picking up the deck and shuffling them in my hands.

“Fine,” he says, walking over to the table and taking a seat. “You’re on.”

“Great,” I say, dealing the cards out. “Ante up, boys. It’s time to see who the real card player is.”

Between sips of bourbon and a whole lot of bluffing, I manage to talk those boys out of their shirts, socks and even Ben’s watch. Hank and Ben are now down to their boxers, while JT somehow managed to keep his pair of jeans. I’d lost my pants, but my shirt is long, and skims down my ass, covering my underwear.

Hank and JT glare at me and hesitate for a moment before reluctantly putting their ‘stakes’ on the table, and pushing their chips forward.

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