Page 23 of Ten Mountain Men

“And,” I continue, “to answer why I’m here, on the mountain, it’s because I’m camping. I didn’t know it was your mountain.”

“You’re camping,” Grumpy Luke repeats. His brows are up and he doesn’t look at all impressed with my declaration. “Ah. You got lost on your way to the Wilderness Haven Retreat and Lodge, you mean. Well, that’s not camping, but Lynx will get you there after—”

“I wasn’t on my way to the Wilderness Haven Retreat and Lodge. I’m camping,” I state again. Firmly. “Actual camping. With a tent. In the wilderness. Roughing it.”

Grumpy Luke smirks.

“By yourself?” Ash—I think—asks. “Or with…do you have a husband?”

I can’t help the smile that creeps into the corners of my mouth at his curiosity.

“I do not,” I say.

Grumpy Luke growls. “Get any ideas out of your heads, right now, all of you.”

I don’t know…part of me kind of wants to hear about the ideas they have in their heads, especially after seeing what’s happening with their delicious, too-big-to-be-real cocks.

Sheesh, my libido needs to calm the fuck down.

“And,” I add, “I’m camping alone.”

My mother’s voice in my head also needs to calm the fuck down, because she’s telling me I should be claiming that I’m camping with a whole damn rifle-bearing football team that’ll kick their asses if they touch a curl on my head.

“It’s not a good idea to camp alone,” Ash—I think—says. “What if you’d fallen in the woods and gotten hurt and we hadn’t been there to rescue you?”

“Well,” I say. “If you hadn’t been chasing me, I wouldn’t have been running, and I wouldn’t have fallen and gotten hurt.”

“That mud is never going to come out of my good pants,” Grumpy Luke mutters.

“She has a point,” Lynx says. “Speaking of, after you’re done eating, I’d like to examine your ankle more thoroughly.”

“And I’d like to examine the rest of you,” Clay says.

My cheeks instantly heat at his comment, but instead of being embarrassed by the joking, a shot of pleasure hits my belly.

Lynx looks like he swallowed something spicy. His cheeks, or what I can see of them under his out-of-control black beard, glow red. Maybe he just got a good whiff of Clay’s stew. “I mean, it wouldn’t hurt. Just to make sure you don’t have any other injuries.”

Oh my goodness, he was blushing. Adorbs.

“Lynx wanted to be a doctor,” Hunter tells me. “He won’t do anything inappropriate, Miss Goldie. You have my word.”

I glance again at Lynx, whose blushing has intensified. His knuckles are turning white as he tightly grips his spoon.

Well, damn. His fingers are the size of…well. Let’s just say he doesn’t have small hands.

But the part about him wanting to be a doctor is even more fascinating.

“Oh? What kind of doctor did you want to be, did you have a specialty in—”

Luke cuts off my question. “Lynx doesn’t have a medical degree. She needs to drive herself to the hospital and they’ll do X-rays and whatnot. Now everyone, cut the yapping and eat your lunch.”

Once again, the brothers listen to Alpha-Bigfoot. As we eat, I steal glances around the table, trying to figure them out, and they’re all watching me with the same curiosity. I know I need to be heading back to my car and/or campsite, but I find myself drawn into their world, and I don’t want to leave yet. I’m eager to uncover the story of who they are, why they’re here cut off from the world. And why none of them do any grooming.

I need to know the story.

“If you don’t mind my saying so, Miss Goldie,” Nash—or is this one Ash?—speaks up. He looks around, plucks a cloth napkin out of Clay’s lap, and wipes his mouth with it.

I feel my nose scrunch up but Clay apparently doesn’t mind, so why should I? I smooth my face out.

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