Page 33 of Ten Mountain Men

Hmmm. That hints at a tragic backstory, or some deep, dark family scandal going back generations, maybe?

Internally, I sigh. “I get it, trust me. I understand the importance of privacy,” I acknowledge, choosing my words carefully. “It must be liberating to live off-grid.”

Despite Rusty’s resistance to divulge personal information, I won’t be deterred. He has brothers, after all, and when they see how hot Rusty looks with his mountain manscaping, they’ll be begging for makeovers of their own.

Sooner or later, one of them will spill. Hopefully sooner, since I don’t know how long I’ll be able to stay.

What? What am I thinking?

Do I really want to stay longer than tonight? I realize that, inexplicably, the clutterisalready bothering me less and less…

But no. I’ll be able to stay one night. That’s what we agreed upon.

Unless Ash is right and we do all get snowed in and I can’t leave…

Chapter 10

Goldie

“Well, well, well, would you look at our pretty pretty Rusty!” one of the guys booms mockingly as all of the brothers come back inside in droves from wherever they’ve been off to. “Ain’t he looking just as sweet as a peach!”

That’s followed by whistles and catcalls.

Rusty’s makeover is as done as done can be and he looks insanely hot. I wish I could take him shopping too, but I made do with an unbuttoned flannel and a pair of low-slung jeans.

Lord, but this man is dreamy. Rusty’s beard—now shorter, tamer, and impeccably styled—frames his strong jawline, somehow accentuating his ruggedness and showing off the dimples I knew were under there. His tousled locks of copper-colored hair, which fall effortlessly across his forehead, are now framing but not hiding his face. I had to take off about five inches to get all the split ends, but it’s still long and, now, luxurious. Damn, I’m good. Both his facial hair and the hair on his head are soft as hell now too.

“My, my, our man has such stylish stubble!” Clay teases, touching his own wild beard. “Brothers, I think we’ve got ourselves one of them male supermodels.”

“Is that the chin stubble or the chest stubble that’s stylish?” another brother calls out teasingly from behind me. “Did you let her shave your legs too?”

I did trim his chest hair, all the way down to his happy trail. Which was more like a happy four-lane highway to heaven. But I didnotshave his legs.

“He doesn’t have stubble! I didn’t shave his face or chest, because that would’ve been a crime,” I say, giving Rusty a flirtatious smile. “It didn’t take much work, and he looksgo-ood.So sexy.”

“Did she mow your lawn too, Rusty?” Clay asks.

Rusty’s ears—which are now visible—flame red. So do mine when I understand what Clay is asking. No, in fact, I did not touch Rusty’s pubes.

“Very lumberjack chic,” Lynx says—almost approvingly?—his rumbling voice drawing tingles along my spine.

“I think the term islumbersexual,” I say, and then I’m blushing for about the zillionth time in one day, and I’m probably going to die of high blood pressure because of these guys and the way they have my heart pumping much too fast. “I mean, that’s something I read in Cosmo magazine, once. It’s a term. Not that I’m thinking of Rusty sexually…”

Oh, Lord, what am I saying now?

Because I definitely have been thinking of Rusty sexually…

And now I’m thinking of ALL of them sexually…

“I think she’s right,” Rusty says, lifting his chin. “I lookgo-ood. And I would let her mow my lawn or do anything else she wanted to do to me.”

I think what happens next is technically called whoopin’ and hollerin’. There’s also some foot-stompin’ and cat-callin’.

Change the subject, Goldie, quick!

“Anyone else up for a makeover before dinner?” I say brightly, thankfully a better question than the first thought that zings through my mind which is,So, who does want their lawns mowed, though?

Generally, I would not enjoy the thought of grooming someone else’s down-there hair, but it would almost certainly mean I’d get to touch those cocks, right? Even with an accidental brush of the back of my knuckles…

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