Page 53 of Ten Mountain Men

My first thought is,Well, get down, Goldie.

My second thought is,Dammit, why wasn’t it my day to go fishing?

I open my mouth, because Luke looks like he’s expecting a response.

“Five seconds!” he repeats for emphasis before I can get anything out.

“Are you sure you’re not being a little”—I clear my throat—“paranoid?”

She slept in my bed all last night, after all, and didn’t put any moves on me. But maybe she just isn’t attracted to me?

“I know what an impending threesome looks like, Buck!” Luke insists.

Wish I did.

Especially when Goldie Locke is one of the three.

But I don’t even know what an impendingtwosomelooks like.

Okay. That’s not true. Though I’ve never seen one up close and in real life, and though I’ve never been a part of one, that doesn’t mean I don’t know what an impending twosome looks like, I guess. Hell, I can think of about nine hundred ways one could look between me and Goldie.

But even so, a threesome is hardly an orgy.

“Her pants were undone!” Luke says. “She was on them like a fuckin’ leech.”

Luke paces a few strides away from me and turns on his heels. He strides back again, turns away from me and back again, away from me and back again. He’s using his arms like he wishes they were wings, and is babbling like he’s having some kind of nervous breakdown.

Honestly, he’s making me dizzy.

“They were supposed to be fishing! They were not fishing. Not unless they were fishing for compliments on the size of their boners, for cryin’ out loud!”

I almost laugh at that, because Nash is a charming devil and if he wanted to get a compliment on the size of his boner, a compliment on the size of his boner he would get.

“She was smashed between them like the melted cheddar in a grilled cheese sandwich!”

I wonder if Luke might be just a tad jealous. He’s clearly got his boxer shorts in a twist, but I can’t figure out if he’s only bothered in that typical, agitated way Luke always gets when there’s a shake-up in our routine…or if underneath that layer of bothered, he’s bothered in the very same way the rest of us are bothered. Hot and bothered.

Bothered in the way where we each want to strip our clothes off, howl at the moon, and pin that glorious shooting star of a woman to a tree, making her body and ours come together beneath the night’s sky. My cock twitches in my jeans at the thought.

“They were all over each other!” Luke shouts.

I want to ask,So?

I press my lips together. I know my oldest, bossiest brother well enough to know this is a rant. And he’s only just getting started when it comes to chewing my ear off. This is no conversation. Even if he did want my input, it’s not worth the headache he’s bound to give me if I said anything that even insinuated that he was overreacting. Besides, it would only make him double-down.

But in my opinion—and mind you, it’s not based on experience—what’s wrong with a threesome between three consenting adults? Not a damn thing, really. If the lady wants her pants off, by God, let’s get those suckers off.

“So they’ve caught no fish and lunch is going to be lateagainand she’s just affecting the whole lot of you in a way I’ve never seen a woman do and I don’t like it! Ash was wrong about the weather! Completely wrong!”

Yeah, that was weird.

“Ash ain’t never been wrong about the weather! That boy can always predict rain or snow as sure as the sunrise! Even if it’s just gonna be a slight drizzle, he knows it’s a-comin’!”

I stifle a laugh. It’s been a very long time since I’ve seen him so worked up he slips and starts sounding like he’s the reincarnation of our Great Grampa Björnsson.

“He does tend to know when drizzles are a-comin’,” I mock, deadpan. I start to make a joke about how the only thing a-comin’ today was likely Nash, Lynx, and Goldie, but Luke shakes his head. I’m not Clay. I know when joking is appropriate and when it isn’t. Now isn’t the time.

“This isn’t funny, Buck. I need you to be on my side with this. The others, they’ll listen to you. You can convince them she needs togo.”

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