Page 19 of Claimed By 3 Mountain Men

I can feel Ben’s gaze on me, but I ignore it, trying to focus on the task at hand. The forest is buzzing with life around us. Birds chirp overhead, squirrels scurry up the trees as we hike by.

We reach the first camera, set up high on a tree trunk. Ben obligingly holds the ladder while I climb, my heart pounding in my chest from more than just the exertion. Retrieving the SD card, I thank him with a quick nod before moving onto the next one.

He’s probably taking note of every one of my cameras. I decide I won’t show them all to him.

“So, why a wildlife biologist?” he asks, out of nowhere.

I stop in my tracks and turn to face him. “Is this a job interview now?” I ask, cocking an eyebrow.

He laughs and holds his hands up in the air. “Just making conversation.”

“Fine,” I reluctantly admit, “I’ve always been fascinated by the natural world, the beauty and the unpredictability of it. Plus, I like being outdoors more than in stuffy labs or offices.”

“Fair enough,” he says. “So you must travel a lot then?”

I nod, investigating the second camera.

“That’s part of the job.”

“Your man doesn’t mind?”

“My man?” I repeat with a hint of confusion and annoyance.

“Sorry, I just assumed...” he trails off, looking away. “I mean, you’re beautiful and all...”

My heart stutters at the compliment, but I brush it off.

“Nope, no man in the picture,” I say with a small shrug before climbing back down the ladder. Ben’s eyes linger on me a bit too long before he looks away.

We continue across the trails, retrieving the rest of the SD cards. I can’t help but notice how easy it is to talk to him. He is actually quite charming when he wants to be.

Who would’ve thought?

We return to camp after retrieving the last memory card. The warmth of the afternoon sun heats our backs.

I hand him a bottle of water from the cooler at my campsite.

“Aren’t your brother’s wondering where you’ve run off too?” I ask.

He shakes his head.

“No. There’s too much going on right now. JT’s in town all day and Hank’s out managing the crews.”

“What are you supposed to be doing?”

He tilts his head and gives me a small smile.

“Keeping an eye on you.”

“Bullshit.”

“You think so?”

“I know so. You’re spying on me,” I say firmly, watching him. “You’re going to try and sabotage my research or something.”

“No. I don’t think so, Mac.” He smiles, taking a long drink of the water. I watch his throat rise and fall where small beads of sweat roll ever so slowly down. His hands are so large they make the water bottle look child-sized.

He catches me staring at him intently.

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