Page 52 of Ten Mountain Men

What the actual hell is wrong with me?

Too late, I realize that Grumpy Luke and Buck have fallen silent, and they’re both gazing at me, obviously staring at them. Eavesdropping. Not that effectively, mind you, since I heard about five percent of what they were saying, if that. But eavesdropping nonetheless.

Grumpy Luke scrunches up his eyes at me and then stalks farther away from the cabin. Buck follows. I lose sight of them, and they’re completely out of earshot.

I bet Lukeisferociously passionate in the sack.

I close my eyes and let my thoughts wander.

In the fantasy, when I open my eyes, Grumpy Luke looms over me. His beard looks like an overcrowded mass of tangled, gnarled roots from an ancient tree. His face is divided into thirds by his abundant mustache and his bushy almost-unibrow. The craggy lines in his forehead tell me his life hasn’t been easy, and I doubt his hair has ever actually come into contact with any commercial brand of shampoo, but something irresistible burns in his eyes. There’s a softness, and a lust. His heart is as hungry for love as his loins are for sex. I cling to him, holding on for dear life, as he growls and takes me one with swift thrust…

I shake my head and the Voltaire quote,Perfection is the enemy of good, tumbles out.

What if all this time I’ve been saving myself for perfection when I could’ve been having an entire decade plus of good, really good sex? Ferociously passionate sex, even.

If it weren’t for my pesky virginity, I definitely wouldn’t be opposed to a hate-fuck with Grumpy Luke. Just to see how ferociously passionate he really is.

What in the backwoods erotica hell has happened to my brain?

And then, as if out of nothing other than sheer rebellion against my negative self-talky insults, my brain starts working properly again, the cells belly-bumping each other in triumph, as they put a wild—but plausible—theory together.

Whatever Grumpy Luke is railing at Buck about involves both their Pa and Sasquatches.

And…in my fantasy, the vision of Grumpy Luke looming over me with burning eyes…he did look very Sasquatchy. In a hot way. Wild, untamed, feral. Beastly, even, but…sexily so.

Is it possible their father…

No.

But…

Is it possible the mysterious, captivating Björnsson brotherscouldbe half-Sasquatch?

It wouldn’t be a turnoff, I realize.

But more importantly, far more importantly: Could their father have been the Bigfoot that saved me?

It’s an out-there theory, but…it’s plausible. And…if it’s true…I have to know. I have to know what happened to him, where he is. If it’s true, the answers aren’t out there in the woods. They’re right here in this cabin.

I have to know.

But they aren’t going to talk to me about it.

Rusty’s words ring in my ears.We don’t really discuss our past.

I’m not proud of myself for what I’m about to do…but…I have to know their story. I have to know the truth.

Chapter 15

Buck

“She’s going to ruin our lives!”

That’s the first thing Luke says to me when he gets me outside. I’m about to ask him if he thinks he might be blowing this out of proportion just a smidgen, but what he said to Goldie before we came out is lingering in my ears.

“Why did you tell her to try to not start any orgies?”

His eyes go a li’l buggy. “Because she was five seconds away from starting a threesome with Lynx and Nash. She was putting the moves on them both.”

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