Page 59 of Snowed In with Three Mountain Men

“Because you stayed here,” I continue. “And now you’re with me. You’re with us. And I don’t know what I would do without you.”

I kiss him again.

“You saved me, Dax,” I murmur. “Please, let me help you too. Let me help you leave it all behind.”

He rests his head against mine for a long moment, and I can tell there’s a part of him that wants to give me what I’m asking for. It’s not going to be that easy, of course—it’s not like he can just forget everything that happened and pretend like the horrors he saw at war are done.

But he’s here with me now, not trying to make excuses, not trying to turn his back on what he knows is good for him. And as long as he can stay here, in this moment, then I know I have him. I know that’s all that matters.

“I love you,” he murmurs to me, after a long silence. The words surprise me—not because I don’t feel it from him, but because he’s never been the first to come clean about his emotions, not when he can avoid it.

After another kiss, I look him in the eyes and smile.

“I love you too, Dax,” I reply. “Now, let’s get some sleep. I’m exhausted.”

He pulls me against him, spooning me once more, and I close my eyes—and within just a few minutes, I fall into a deep, peaceful sleep, my nightmares at bay for the time being, in the arms of one of the men I love with all my heart.

29

CHUCK

I whistlethrough my teeth as I get back to work, the warm spring air dancing around my bare chest—it’s a bright enough day that working in the garden calls for me to be stripped to the waist to avoid overheating. Oh, and I also happen to enjoy the way Charli steals glances at me out of the corner of her eye when she thinks I’m not looking.

Now that it’s starting to get closer to summer, I’m planting up everything I can to get ahead of schedule. I want to make sure we have a healthy crop this year, since we’ve got a new member of the family to feed. Of course, Charli has been insistent on pulling her weight here, telling me that she doesn’t want to sit around on her butt and do nothing while the rest of us are working overtime to get everything done. No matter how many times I tell her that I’m perfectly fine with her ass, provided it’s close to me, she wants to help, and I’m not going to argue with some assistance around the garden.

She’s in the greenhouse, and I’m just finishing up another set of tomato plants along the outside edge—it’s meant to be particularly warm this year, so growing them isn’t going to betoo hard. She’s already suggested turning some of them into jams and conserves. Not something I know a whole lot about, but I’m willing to learn from her, just as she seems willing to learn from me.

“Hey, you need a hand?” Dax calls to me from inside the house. I shake my head.

“Nah, we’re all good,” I reply, shooting a look over to the greenhouse, where Charli is still working. But as soon as I see her, my heart drops—something’s wrong. I can tell at a glance.

She’s leaning heavily over one of the plant pots, her face pale, and she looks as though she’s about to pass out at any moment. I rush over toward the door and throw it open, concern pulsing through my system.

“Charli? You okay?”

She doesn’t look up at me. Her eyes seem bleary, a little distant—I can tell something’s seriously off.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” she mumbles. “Just a little, uh…”

But before she can finish what she’s saying, she stumbles, and I rush forward to pull her into my arms.

“Hey, hey, you’re alright,” I promise her, smoothing down her hair. “Did you have one of the flashbacks again?”

“No, it’s nothing like that,” she replies, her voice shaky. “I’m just…I don’t feel right.”

“Don’t feel right how?”

“Like I’m too tired to stay on my feet,” she explains as best she can. I can hear how distant she is, her voice laced with discomfort, and I pull her against me firmly.

“You need to come sit down.”

“No, let me carry on, I’m so close to being done…”

“No way,” I tell her firmly. “Into the house. Now. You need something to drink, something to eat. You can’t stay out here in this heat and not expect it to hit you…”

I finally convince her to come inside once more, and Dax is waiting there, concerned, when she steps in.

“What’s going on?”

---