Page 17 of Snowed In with Three Mountain Men

“Yeah, like us,” I agree. “Come on, let’s get back to the house. I want to let Charli know we moved the car.”

“And check on your girlfriend?” Dax taunts.

I roll my eyes. “She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Butwasshe, at one point?” Chuck asks with interest.

I shake my head and start on the route back to the cabin. “Come on. I’ve got better things to do than stand around here gossiping with you assholes…”

We begin to head back to the cabin, but before we lose sight of the road entirely, I look back one last time. It’s quiet, as far as I can tell—but that doesn’t do much to stem the questions rushing through my mind. Who exactly was that guy? What was he doing out here? Was he the one Charli was running from—or was he justsentby that guy? I don’t know the answers yet, but I am damn sure I’m going to find them.

Because that’s what it’s going to take to keep Charli safe. And right now, that’s my priority.

Even if my brothers might have other ideas.

8

CHUCK

“That almost ready? I’m starving.”

Dax is leaning on the counter behind me, peering at the food I’m in the process of cooking up for him and the rest of the house—just an easy potato curry, mostly made from everything in my garden that managed to dodge the chill of the snow. Now that I have fully stocked the pantry with spices and flavorings, there’s hardly anything I can’t make in a snap—even for my brothers’ picky palates.

“Soon,” I reply, shooting a look over my shoulder at him. “You want to grab the beer from the fridge? I could use one. Or two.”

He grins, hopping off the counter and pulling a couple of bottles from the fridge—we have our own mini-brewery, which might not be entirely legal, but damn, is the beer worth it. We start the brewing process over the summer, and by the time winter comes around, we’ve got some good, strong beer to go with whatever I’m cooking. Good way to keep the winter fat on, and more to the point, a fun way to blow off steam when the long nights and chilly days start getting a little too much for you.

As Dax cracks open the beers, the door swings open and Callum steps inside, carrying an armful of firewood.

“Not dry enough to use yet, but it will be in a few days,” he tells us as he kicks off his shoes and carries the firewood toward the hearth. “What are you cooking? Smells good.”

“Curry. Be ready in a few minutes. You guys go have a beer, I’ll be there in a second.”

“If I knew you liked looking after us so much,” Dax teases, “I would have put you to work a long time before we moved into this cabin…”

“Hey, watch it,” I fire back, laughing. “I might just lose all interest in it if you start taking it for granted.”

He holds his hands up in apology, and heads to the small dining table that’s pressed underneath the window that looks out on the woods. Callum, once he’s pulled off his outside gear, goes to join him, and I start ladling the curry into bowls for all of us.

And I realize as I do so that this is the first time I’ve truly felt relaxed in the last few days, since we moved the car and ran into that guy on the side of the road. It’s been on my mind almost nonstop—wondering what he was doing here, if he’s going to follow up on what he saw. It’s not like we’re doing anything wrong here—for the most part, beer aside—just living off the grid in our own space, but Charli’s presence changes things.

I still don’t know what’s going on with her. She’s mostly been laid up in bed, healing from the accident—she’s in much better shape now, but she still mostly keeps herself to herself, like she’s worried that one wrong move might land her in more trouble than she can handle.

The only person she really speaks to is Callum—not that Dax has made much of an effort to reach out to her, that’s for sure, but still. If she’s going to be staying here for the foreseeable future, it’s my business to get to know her better. And if she trusts us, maybe she’ll be willing to tell us what the fuck is going on—and just how far into the shit we’ve managed to wade by getting involved.

I bring a couple of bowls over to the table where my brothers are sitting, and then I grab another—and head for the door to the bedroom she’s been staying in. At once, Callum is on his feet, stepping in front of me, his brow furrowed.

“What are you doing?”

I hold the bowl up. “I’m bringing her some dinner.”

He eyes me for a long moment, and I raise my eyebrows at him, daring him to argue with me on this. He’s the one who brought her in here. And I’m not going to just stand by and let her hide out here without trying to get to know her.

“Callum, I’ll be in the next room,” I remind him. “Stop worrying. Let me bring her some real food. She needs to eat if she’s going to heal.”

His jaw is still tense—I wonder if he’s really worried, or if it’s more to do with the fact that he doesn’t want me to be alone with her. He might think he’s slick enough to hide his real feelings from us, but he’s not. Whatever happened between them in the past, it’s clearly got a romantic edge to it, and the tension between them is palpable.

And then he steps out of the way.

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