Page 32 of Ten Mountain Men

I solemnly swear I will be impressed, Rusty, I think. I saw that tent in his pants before he pulled the throw pillow onto his lap to cover it. And I’m betting he’s every bit as well-endowed as his brothers.

He stands up and says, “Let’s do it then.”

I try not to think about that particular turn of phrase as he hoists me up and carries me into the bathroom despite my protests that it’s not necessary. I think that poultice is already working wonders on the pain in my ankle. Maybe I should ask Lynx to put some on my forehead too. Rusty sets me atop the closed toilet lid while he puts the stopper in the tub and starts the faucet.

As promised, I keep my eyes closed while he bathes. Well, at least in the beginning. Eventually I get bored and turn so I’m facing away from him, my hair dangling down my back as I study the curious row of towels from this new angle.

I read the names of all ten brothers, wishing I could figure them out based on towel alone. Is the embroidery based on their favorite colors?

After about twenty minutes, Rusty starts to complain. “This is taking for-ev-er.”

“What step are you on?”

“Getting all the knots out still,” he grumbles, and I can finally hear the genetic similarities between him and Grumpy Luke. I smother a laugh.

“Yep, the knots are going to take a while. Do you want me to take over? Give your arms a rest?”

There’s silence. Lots of silence. And then, “Uhhh…I don’t know, Rose-Gold.”

“Everything’s covered by the bubbles, right?”

“How did you know that?” he asks suspiciously.

“Well, for starters, I can smell the raspberries and cream, so I know you’re using the bubble bath. And it covered everything up on me when I was in the tub.”

I’m not sure how logically sound that is, since there’s a lot more of him than me, but he doesn’t argue with the flaw in my statement.

“Okay,” he says. “But you’ll have to sit on the side of the tub. So you’re not standing on your hurt foot.”

I perch on the edge of the tub and take the comb from him. “Your hair is a very pretty color,” I say.

“Thank you, ma’am. So is yours.”

I begin gently working the comb through his hair. It’s actually not that bad. Eventually, my fingers glide through Rusty’s hair in a soothing rhythm that seems to put him at ease. He sighs happily.

“You know,” I say suddenly, breaking the silence, “despite the rocky start—or bubbly start, I suppose—I’m glad I ended up here.”

Rusty turns his head enough to give me a side-eye. “Yeah?”

I nod. “Yeah. I mean, where else would I get the chance to give a sexy, rugged mountain man a makeover?”

Rusty’s smile goes from boyishly cute to stomach-flippingly hot as he regards me. “You really find me sexy? Or are you puttin’ me on?”

I swallow hard and suddenly the horniness I’m feeling is too much. I want to strip off my flannel toga-dress thing and slide into those bubbles with him. Maybe accidentally landing vagina-first on his cock…

Stop it, Goldie! Your first time is going to be well planned and perfect, I remind myself.

“Okay, step one is complete!” I say brightly, hoping he won’t notice my sudden breathiness and the flush I can’t stop from taking over my face. “Let’s get you going on step two!”

Eventually he finishes his bath and dresses from the waist down, and my face goes back to a relatively normal shade. Well, except for my forehead which is already turning a lovely purple. And as the makeover truly begins (though I have to use what would best be described as carpenters’ tools, instead of anything of professional hairdresser quality), I try to work out a little more of his family’s secret.

“So, what made you all choose this secluded mountain life?” I ask, with genuine curiosity. “It’s quite a departure from the hustle and bustle of the city, don’t you think?”

“A departure for you maybe,” he says with a smile, “but we grew up here. We’ve always preferred the peace and quiet of nature.”

I press further, trying not to sound too eager to uncover more. “What about your parents? Where are they?”

Rusty’s hesitation is long before he finally says, “We don’t really discuss our past.”

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