Page 39 of Ten Mountain Men

“How’s that ankle feelin’?”

“Uh.” She glances down at it. Her sweet little nose scrunches up. “It’s not too bad. Your poultice worked magic, I think.”

I should still probably take a proper look at it later. Apply some more of the poultice. Wrap it in a fresh bandage.

“How about your head?”

She reaches up and tests her forehead, as if she’s forgotten all about that. “Oh! Ouch. Probably should keep my hands off it. It’s definitely tender to the touch still. But I think I was probably just temporarily disoriented from the impact, not concussed.”

Her eyes have roamed back up and are studying me as I make a mental list of things I need to do to take care of her. Speaking of…

“Can I get you something to eat?” I volunteer. “I’ll have to wash some dishes first, but I don’t mind—”

“I don’t eat breakfast, usually,” she says, her eyes roving over the kitchen. “I can wash the dishes for you, though! And straighten up in here a bit, maybe?”

I’m about to tell her that it sure is nice of her to offer because we could use more than a bit of straightening up in here, but then Luke’s voice snips, “Thank you kindly, but we are doing quite fine without a housewife.”

I don’t know how we didn’t hear him come in. Guess we were too busy paying attention to each other.

Goldie glances from me to Luke and back again. I choose to withhold my opinion on the matter, because she probably has no interest in ever being a housewife for anyone, and Luke may be doing quite fine without one, but…

I let the thought trail off, and turn my attention back to Goldie.

“I mean, yes, if your goal is to build a tower of filthy plates taller than you are, you’re doing mighty fine,” she retorts. Her hands aren’t on her scrumptious hips but I have a feeling it won’t be long before they get there. Damn those hips though. “Would you prefer applause, or a trophy for your efforts?”

I stifle a laugh at the challenging eyebrows-raised stare she’s pinned on Luke.

Damn, this woman is a spitfire, and part of me wants to let them carry on and just enjoy the show, but…

Spitfire or not, Goldie will only be able to hold her own for so long. Luke is like a mechanical bull. He ain’t gonna wear out and he ain’t gonna give up and sooner or later, he’ll throw her off. It’s not a matter of if he’ll win, but when. She’s already got a busted ankle. I don’t want to see her hurt any more than that.

The rest of us have the numbers on him and can outvote him every time. So she’s here. But he can make her miserable enough that she’ll want to leave.

I remind myself it doesn’t matter that much. We all only agreed she’d stay one night. Hell, she only agreed to stay the one night.

But I still don’t like the way they’re glaring at each other.

“It didn’t snow,” I say.

“I noticed.” Luke blinks first. His eyes flit to me. “You were going fishing, yeah?”

“Yep. As soon as I finish eating.”

He stomps over, pulls the pot out of my hands with more force than necessary, and slaps it down on the counter. Everything else on the counter teeters. Goldie’s got this look on her face like she’s bracing herself for the inevitable crash of it all.

“Looks like you’re done,” Luke says.

He glances back at Goldie. Hitching his thumb toward her, he suggests, “Why don’t you take Little Miss Helpful with you?”

Sometimes Luke can be a real pain in my ass, but other times…well. He says something like that.

My lips twitch into a grin.

“Would you like to go fishing with me, ma’am?” I ask.

“I would love to go fishing with you, Lynx,” Goldie says with this smile that could melt the spots right off a damn ladybug. I know she’s probably just trying to get under Luke’s skin, but the way she says my name makes my cock grow hard again. It has been a damn long time since I’ve gotten laid, and I have never been laid by someone as gorgeous as Goldie.

I hesitate as I wonder exactly what happened with her and Buck last night. The last time the two of us went after the same woman, well, the results were not what you’d call favorable.

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