Page 11 of Her Silver Fox Mountain Men

“Oliver is, in fact, our chief negotiator,” James says, beaming with pride. “There’s nothing he won’t get people to agree to if it benefits us.”

“Consider me impressed,” I reply. And pretty turned on.

Is it the one-plus year of celibacy that has me feeling like this? No. It can’t be. It’s got to be them. Men with gorgeous eyes and sculpted muscles underneath their plaid shirts, dashing smiles framed by nicely trimmed beards, and voices that make my core tighten with pure arousal.

“You’ll be safe with us,” Roman says, picking up on my slight hesitation. “And the twins will enjoy having you around.”

“Tricia and Ainsley will absolutely welcome a new lady in the house,” James agrees. “Janice is a sweet old lady, and incredibly reliable, but the girls already like you.”

“It’s an honor to know they feel that way,” I giggle softly.

It warms my heart to hear this. I like them, too. They’re funny, vibrant, and curious. And they’re whip-smart on top of everything else. Remarkably precocious.

“Again, I cannot thank you enough,” I say. “I’ll make it up to you, one way or another.” Maybe I should’ve kept that last part to myself because it gets me a lingering look from James. “Maybe you’ll let me cook for you once in a while. Or every day. I don’t know.”

“Nonsense,” James replies. “You work at the diner almost every day. You need to rest, to unwind. Seriously, Elise, you’re no trouble at all. I’ve said it once, and I will say it again—you’re welcome in our home.”

“More than welcome,” Oliver adds.

That sends a tingle down my spine. What on earth is wrong with me? Why am I so receptive to the slightest hint of their interest? I keep asking myself the same questions even though I already know the answer. It’s embedded in the most forbidden thoughts, thoughts I never imagined I’d have until I met them.

6

Oliver

It’s going to be an interesting few weeks, if not months.

Frankly, I hope old Ronald drags his ass if it means we get to enjoy Elise’s company for as long as possible. I could tell from the first time I saw her, cursing when her car wouldn’t start outside the diner, that she was an interesting woman.

Roman got the same vibe when he spotted her at the grocery store, long before James carried her into the house, scared out of her mind. I’m guessing she’s from the city, most likely some place cold. She didn’t seem too affected by Colorado’s last winter.

“I don’t like the strawberries,” Tricia moans as I add more fruit to her cereal bowl. It’s how I get the girls to eat enough fiber, by making their cereal breakfast colorful and fun though they don’t always see it that way.

“Strawberries are good for you,” I remind her. By the look I get I’m guessing she’s not buying what I’m trying to sell today.

“Eat your strawberries, ladies,” Roman warns as he joins us in the kitchen. “Or I’ll add more broccoli to your dinner platestonight.”

“Not cool,” Ainsley grumbles. Still, despite the protests, she eventually eats the strawberry and Cheerios combination.

By the time James comes downstairs and gets more coffee brewing in the pot, Tricia is firmly staying on the fence.

“I won’t eat the broccoli, either,” she insists.

“I thought we went over this,” James enters into the conversation.

Roman shakes his head slowly. “Nothing seems to be working today.”

“We don’t like strawberries,” Ainsley says, scrunching her nose at us.

“Can I have more Cheerios, please?” Tricia chimes in with an innocent smile.

Elise is the last to come down and her presence changes the entire atmosphere around the breakfast table. “What do you mean you don’t like strawberries?” she asks as she stops to pull her honey-blonde hair up in a loose bun, her pale pink diner uniform neatly pressed and looking sharp. “Strawberries are awesome.”

“Awesome?” Tricia echoes.

“Why, yes! They’re full of fiber and vitamins, the kind of stuff that helps you grow big and strong,” Elise says. I can’t take my eyes off her.

“I wanna grow,” Ainsley mumbles. “I wanna grow up real fast.”

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