Page 118 of Ten Mountain Men

By the time we make it back to the cabin, the sun’s higher in the sky, warming the cool morning air.

As we step inside, the smell of coffee hits me first, followed by the sight of Luke standing by the counter, glancing over his shoulder at us. His eyes land on the basket Buck’s carrying, filled to the brim with eggs, and for a split second I think he might smile.

“That’s more than I expected,” he says, his voice gruff but not unfriendly. “Nice work.”

Luke’s eyes flick to me, then back to the eggs. “You want an omelet?”

I blink. “I thought breakfast was fend-for-yourself.”

“It usually is,” Luke mutters, already cracking eggs into a bowl. “But I’m feeling generous today and if you’ve never had an omelet made with fresh eggs, you’re missing out.”

I bite back a smile. “I don’t normally eat breakfast and I already had an apple and some sunflower seed butter, but this sounds too good to turn down.”

Nash chuckles, giving my arm a playful nudge. “Luke’s omelets are legendary. You’re in for a treat. I’ll take one too.”

“You can make your own,” Luke says.

“We should wash up first,” Buck says, and yes, I do want to scrub the…whatever’s on my hands after dealing with the chickens…off.

When we make our way back to the kitchen after taking turns at the bathroom sink—and how do ten men share one bathroom without killing each other, anyway?—Luke’s already dishing up plates, and I take a seat at the long wooden table, eyeing the organized chaos in front of me. Despite what he told Nash, it appears he’s made omelets for everyone.

It’s hard to believe this is the same place where I had my first meal with them—where it felt like a pack of wild animals descending on the table, grabbing whatever they could. Today, there’s an order to it. Plates are passed, conversation flows, and it feels…comfortable. Easy.

Luke places a plate in front of me, and I look down at the fluffy omelet, a blend of golden eggs, cheese, and fresh vegetables. “Some people are weird about mushrooms, so I left them out of yours.”

“Thanks,” I say, surprised at how genuinely grateful I am. Maybe it’s just the mountain air, or maybe it’s…something else. “It looks amazing.”

And it is amazing. It’s so amazing that when Luke offers me seconds I say yes without even thinking about it. When everyone pushes back from the table and starts getting up, I seize the opportunity.

“I’ll get the dishes,” I offer quickly, standing up and gathering plates before anyone else can volunteer. It’s the perfect chance to finally get those cameras down without anyone noticing. “We don’t want to let them get stacked up again. So, Buck, Nash, you can go do whatever you need to do for a while and I’ll come get you when I’m ready to start cleaning!”

But, as usual, I’m not that lucky.

“I’ll help,” Hunter says, already gathering silverware from the table.

Of courseHunter isn’t just going to offer. He’s going to insist. “You don’t have to,” I say.

Hunter raises an eyebrow, his grin lazy and just a little bit mischievous. “Didn’t say I had to. I said I would.”

The others are already heading out to start their morning chores, leaving me with Hunter in the now-quiet kitchen. Perfect. Absolutely perfect.

We carry the dishes over to the sink, and I take a deep breath, trying to focus. All I need is a few minutes alone to get those cameras down. But with Hunter hovering so close, that’s easier said than done.

“I wash, you dry?” he asks.

“Sure,” I say.

“Wanna go back to your campsite and check on your tent later?” He drops his voice low. “I’d love some alone time with you.”

His eyes meet mine, and there’s a soft look in his gaze. Something that makes my stomach flip in a way I’mreallynot ready to deal with.

“We don’t have to fuck, I mean,” he whispers.

Why am I having all these feelings?

We finish the dishes in silence, but it’s a loaded silence—one that leaves me very aware of just how close Hunter is standing. When the last dish is dried, he grabs a towel and hands it to me, his fingers brushing mine.

“Thanks for the help,” I say, my voice coming out a little more breathless than I intended.

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