Page 18 of Ten Mountain Men

I bend my knee and I’m reaching down to massage the banged-up ankle when the door opens.

It’s my first instinct to scream GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT, but my experience on the sets of reality shows has taught me that sometimes it’s better to stay silent, no matter what, and watch how things play out. Also, I don’t feel threatened. I should. Mother’s voice in my head tells me I should. But I don’t.

This mountain man is whistling, and I realize he’s one I haven’t seen yet. Not even one who went back for my sunglasses or phone, I’m sure of it. None of the others had copper-colored hair like this one does. It’s shot through with highlights like streaks of fire throughout, clearly made by the sun. You simply can’t get that effect or shade out of a bottle. I love my golden curls now, but I went through a phase in high school where I hated being a blonde and tried every other color. So I know a dye job.

As I watch, speechless and mesmerized, he undresses. At first I think he’s wearing a fur vest, but nope, he’s just shirtlessand has that much flame-colored chest hair. Right before he takes off his underwear, I manage to squeak out, high-pitched and panicked, “Stop!”

It’s for his sake, not mine. I would not mind a glimpse of another enormous cock, but if I was disrobing in a room where someone could see me, I’d be absolutely horrified if they didn’t let me know before I gave them the whole show.

He whips around to face me.

“Is someone there? Who the hell said that? Ash, is that you? Did Ranger knee you in the balls again while y’all were wrestlin’?”

I almost snicker at that.

“No, um…”

“Clay, you bastard. Is that you puttin’ on a girlie voice? Where you hidin’?”

He can’t see me over the bubbles.

I lift a hand and wave. “Hi. I’m in the tub. My name’s Goldie. Are you one of the brothers?”

Oh my gosh. I count them all up in my head, and…no. No, stop. Are there ten of them? Just like the Hammers? Just like I’ve begged Winnie to find for me?

I would laugh, but I’m too embarrassed to do anything but blush as an image of a big ol’ mountain man orgy with me at the center flits through my head. I push the image away. No orgies! My first time will be a one-on-one with my future one and only.

This mountain man repeats, incredulously, “Goldie?”

STOMP. STOMP. STOMP. STOMP.

He’s standing over me, looking like a confused, annoyed bear who has just been woken early from hibernation.

“What the hell is a Goldie? What are you doing in my bath? What are you doing in our cabin? Who are you?”

Before I can answer, he bellows, “GUUUUUUUUUUYS!”

“It’s okay, they know—”

“There’s a lady in the bathtub! There is a LADY in the BATHTUB!”

He turns and storms out, and I can’t help but notice, he has a really nice ass.

It’s too bad he seems to be following in Luke’s grumpy footsteps.

I sink into the bubbles until I’m fully submerged, and shake my head in disbelief that every single second of my carefully laid plan has been derailed. All because of these mountain men.

They may not be Sasquatches…but there’s definitely a story here. I know it in my gut. And I’m suddenly smacked with the insatiable urge, like an itch that must be scratched, to know what that story is.

Chapter 6

Goldie

As a seasoned reality TV producer, my ability to adapt and bounce back quickly in challenging situations serves me well. Has served me well. Past tense. But even though I’m done with reality TV, I’m trying to put that ability to use now.

I take the fastest bath, hoping there won’t be any more surprise brothers popping in on me—what if there are more of them?! What are the odds that there would be exactly ten? It’s too much of a coincidence.

As I step out of the bathroom into the dimly lit hallway, I remain hidden while I double-check that the way I’ve tied the huge flannel Hunter gave me is secure. It’s way too big to just wear as a shirt, so I’m trying to make it look stylish, somehow. Or at least cute. I don’t think I’ve achieved that, but hopefully it won’t come loose and give these mountain men a show.

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