Page 10 of Snowed In with her Mountain Men
“It’s not like he’s using it,” Oakley pressed. “C’mon Jaxon, don’t be unreasonable. Why waste a good bed?”
“We’re not wasting anything,” I grunted. “Take a look at her. She’s tiny. The couch will work fine.”
“But—”
“He’s right.”
Once more, her soft, female voice turned our heads in unison.
“No need to fight about it, I’ll take the couch,” she said, definitively.
She gave a lingering, rebellious look that told me half of everything I’d need to know about her. The other half remained hidden, somewhere behind those defiant, sapphire eyes.
“I’d rather sleep down here, anyway. In front of the fire.”
~ 5 ~
CAMRYN
I woke to a beam of errant sunlight, slicing down from some high flung window. The cabin was cool, but not cold. The blankets my hosts had provided me were soft and thick, making me reluctant to leave my cocoon of warmth.
But I was the nosiest bitch in the universe, and nosy always won out.
On the couch across from me, Oakley was still sleeping peacefully. I wasn’t sure exactly when he’d slipped downstairs, but I’d watched him feed the fire a few times with one eye open. It could be he was keeping me warm, or maybe he just didn’t want me sleeping alone in a strange new house. Either way, it was sort of cute.
Not half as cute as him, though.
I pushed those thoughts away and stood up, moving slowly and silently so as not to wake him. Oakley pursed his lips a few times, his goatee scrunching adorably beneath his strong, handsome nose. His breathing didn’t change though, and I was able to slip from the living room and into the hallway without being detected.
And holy shit, the place washuge.
Gliding across the smooth planked floor in only my socks, I took in the entirety of what almost amounted to a whole logmansion. The rooms were big, the hallways wide and spacious. The giant yellow logs reflected natural light from windows choked with snow, while providing a soothing warmth from all directions.
I made my way from room to room, exploring the den, some sort of game room, and what looked to be an elaborate office. Everything to do with the place was clean and modern, every turn and angle designed with an almost military precision in mind. Decor was sparse, as it usually was when it came to men living amongst themselves. What little there was, dripped with a utilitarian masculinity; everything from the animal head trophies mounted on the walls, to the standing gun rack, fishing rod holders, and the quintessential light fixture made up of a cluster of antlers.
“Damn.”
I chuckled to myself, expecting to pass a zebra skin rug or a stuffed grizzly bear at any moment. Instead I wandered into what could only be a home gym, complete with a pair of treadmills, adjustable benches, and several racks of different sized free weights. There were televisions in most rooms, too. The sleek, dark rectangles were mounted cleanly and perfectly centered, and without the mess of hanging wires.
Yes, men definitely lived here. But they were neat and tidy men, which I had to admire.
The one commonality that all rooms shared however, were the terrible paintings. As I wandered the cabin, I encountered a whole series of crooked landscapes and mountain backdrops. Animals of sometimes questionable species or origins dotted the messy depictions of wilderness scenes. Their features were never distorted too egregiously, but they always fell just short of feeling realistic or accurate.
Eventually I stood at the base of the staircase, where a single blown-up photo hung in a worn, wooden frame. Four men in full military camo stood side by side in some faraway jungle, rifles hoisted, their grizzled faces shaded dark with grease paint. I recognized Oakley and Ryder, and Jaxon immediately by his size. The fourth man was markedly older, maybe twice their age and at least ten times as mean-looking. He had stark white hair and piercing, deep-set eyes, with a line of matching white stubble dotted thickly across his sharply-angled jaw.
“That’s Sarge. He built this place.”
I jumped back and let out a strangled yelp. Oakley’s couch was not only empty, but he’d materialized beside me with a level of speed and silence that would make a ninja jealous.
“Holy shit!” I gasped, spreading one hand over my thundering chest. “You almost gave me a heart attack!”
He didn’t answer, or even look my way. He just stood solemnly beside me, staring at the photo.
“You were in the military?” I eventually asked.
“Yes,” he nodded. “Marines.”
“That’s cool.”
