Page 98 of Ten Mountain Men

“Of course you can hug me, Rusty.” Damn, are my eyes wet? Am I crying? Holy shit, I’m crying.

Chapter 31

Goldie

Iblink, hoping Rusty won’t notice the tears, because this is supposed to be a friendship-and-sex vacation and I don’t want to bring my baggage into it.

He has to practically bend himself in half to hug me properly.

“No,” I say before he can even get me enveloped in those beefy arms. “You’ll all need chiropractors bending down like that to hug me and kiss me.”

“I could drag in a stepladder from the yard?” he offers and then adds, “Probably not the most practical solution, though. Let’s try this.”

Then he picks me up and gives me the warmest, strongest embrace of my life. I wrap my arms around his neck, my legs dangling in the air. Pressing my face into the crook of his neck, I inhale theSmells Like a Man!scent of him.

Rusty squeezes me against him and I find myself thinking,Don’t ever let me go.

But he does, because we’ve got work to do, gently putting me down. “I’m glad you’re back,” he says.

“Me too.”

“And you’ll let me help you with lunch?” he asks.

I nod. “Yeah, Rusty, you can help.”

As discreetly as possible, I wipe my eyes.

“Good, because I’m afraid you’re greatly underestimating how much bacon we’re gonna need.” He chuckles and picks me up again, this time moving me away from the stove. “I’ll fry that up, you slice the bread.”

“Uh…how many sandwiches do you think we should need?”

“Well, let’s see…since we’re not having stew or soup, four or five a piece should be good. And then however many you’d like,” he says.

Four or five a piece. Okay. This is not normal-sized bread, but these are not normal-sized men, and I definitely want them to keep their energy levels up!

With Rusty expertly manning the frying pan, the cabin quickly fills with the mouthwatering smell of sizzling bacon intermingling with a warm, comforting, old-fashioned sort of kitchen smell I don’t recognize. Maybe the lard? I slice the loaves and slather sunflower seed butter and jam on half the bread, setting aside the rest for BLTs. Every now and then, I sneak a glance at Rusty. There’s something so soothing about his presence, about working together in comfortable silence. It’s…nice, actually, and I almost forget the cameras. Almost.

Just as I’m setting down the last plate, stacked high with sandwiches, the door bursts open, and in come the rest of the brothers, loud and boisterous as ever.

“Damn, it smells good in here,” Nash says, sniffing the air. “Is that lunch, or have you gotten even more delicious, Goldie?”

“Both,” I say with a grin. Then I hand over the first plate, announcing, “Sunflower seed butter and plum jam sandwiches. And BLTs.”

“Man, I love me a good BLT,” Buck says, reaching for one.

“We washed up with the garden hose,” Ash assures me.

The brothers crowd around the table, grabbing sandwiches left and right, laughing and chatting. Even Luke. I stand off to the side for a moment, watching them devour the food I made with Rusty’s help.

Luke glances at me. “You might wanna eat before all that’s left is crumbs.”

“Get over here, woman, and enjoy the spoils of your labor,” Hunter says, pulling out the empty chair next to him.

Brooks catches my eye and winks as he takes a bite. After chewing and swallowing, he says, “You did good, Goldie. Real good.”

“What am I, chopped liver?” Rusty asks.

“Aww, Rusty, you did good too,” Clay says, patting him on the head, which sets off a few minutes of them jabbing each other with their elbows.

---