Page 33 of Snowed In with Three Mountain Men

But now? Now I have none of my usual beauty stuff. Nothing much more than a hairbrush and some face wash. And somehow—I feel like I look more myself than I ever have before.

I grab the clothes from where I dumped them on the floor, the steam still rising off my body from the scalding hot shower I just took. It feels so good, getting into a real routine here, starting to relax and allow myself to settle in now that they know the truth about me. Of course, I might not have wanted it to come out like that, but sometimes you’ve just got to come clean and pray that it works out for you in the long run.

And…for now, it seems to have done just that. It’s been a few days since I told them about what happened with James and me, and I keep waiting for them to change their minds—keep waiting for the moment they’re going to flip out and decide none of this is worth all the trouble. Dax, especially.

But they don’t. They still want me here. Chuck and I even slept together—and damn, that delicious body against mine is all I’ve been craving ever since.

Which is just another layer on top of the spectacularly confusing cake that has been baking since I’ve arrived here. How is it, exactly, that I’ve managed to get involved with all three of them? Sure, it’s just a kiss between Dax and me so far, but…but I get the feeling it will become more, in time.

Or maybe I just hope it will. Because my body is awakening again after so long under lock and key, and I want to make the most of this new craving for pleasure in any way I can.

With James, I just let him do what he wanted to me—pretty much checked out of any of our sexual encounters, lying there and allowing him to do what he needed to do so he would get off and leave me alone. God forbid I try and turn him down, which always led to a storm of screaming and accusations about how I must be cheating on him, demands to know where I’d been getting my satisfaction since I didn’t want it with him. No, it was just easier to lie there and let it happen.

As a result, I became utterly disconnected from my body, from my pleasure. How could I even think about that, when I was just trying to keep him satisfied and off my back?

But being with the guys here, feeling their hands on me, their want for me, it’s…confusing. And exciting. And everything else, all at once, and I don’t know what to make of it.

Suddenly, a knock on the door draws me out of my reverie. I jump, and quickly button up the shirt Callum loaned me. I’ve been living in his clothes lately, and I’d be lying if I said I don’t love the smell of his skin so close to mine, even if it’s nothing more than necessity.

“Sorry, I’ll be out in a second,” I call.

“No rush,” Callum replies. “We’re just having a drink. You want one?”

“What are you having?”

“Scotch. Well, what passes for it out of Chuck’s brewery, anyway.”

I grin and bite my lip. It’s been a while since I’ve had anything to drink that’s been intended for actual fun, as opposed to just wiping out my current reality.

“I’d love that,” I reply. “I’ll be out in a second…”

I finish getting dressed and toweling off my hair, and then head out of the bathroom to find the guys in their usual seats around the crackling fireplace. The smell of wood and char fills the air, and Callum glances around to hold a glass out to me as I move closer to them.

“Thanks,” I murmur, gazing down at the amber liquid in the glass before me. “How strong is this stuff, exactly?”

“Strong enough,” Chuck replies, and he shifts slightly to make room for me on the large loveseat he’s on, to the right of thefireplace. Opposite us, Dax sits, and he nods at me in greeting—just a quick motion, but a far cry from how cold he’s been to me up until now.

“That’s what I like to hear,” I reply, and I lift the glass to my lips. As soon as I taste the stuff, I wince, and burst out laughing.

“Holy hell, Chuck,” I protest, turning to him. “This can’t be legal. You could take paint off cars with this!”

“In theory,” he replies, chuckling. “But I prefer to keep it for us.”

I take another sip—it still burns, but the good kind of burn, the kind of burn that warms you up on a cold night like this. There’s a large bottle on the small table in front of the fireplace, and I’m already eyeing it, wondering if I can stomach another glass, when Callum begins to speak.

“It was our dad who taught us to brew,” he remarks, and I notice Dax stiffen at once. The three of them haven’t told me much about their father. I know he died just before I met Callum, and he’s the one who got this cabin for them, but that’s about where it ends. But here’s Callum, offering me a chance to get into it a little with them—and I’m more than willing to take it.

“Oh, yeah?”

He nods. “Yeah. He came out here a lot, in the last few years. Right, Chuck?”

Chuck pauses for a moment, staring at Callum—but then he nods too.

“Yeah, he was up here all the time,” he mutters.

“It was the only place he didn’t feel like he was going crazy,” Dax adds. “Can’t say I don’t know what that feels like.”

I glance between the three brothers, trying to work out if I can ask what’s really on my mind. Finally, I swallow down the second-guessing and come out with it. If I’ve come clean with them, then I’m within my rights to ask a few questions of them too, right?

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