Page 17 of My Three Mountain Men

Changing clothes helped also, the dampness subsiding in my bones and my skin warming underneath the oversized garments that Brooks had given me. Physically, I was in much better shape, but emotionally, I was still antsy. I couldn’t sit in the bed, even after they left me alone.

“I brought you some movies,” Brooks told me before departing. “Some of my favorites. They’re all comedies, so hopefully they’ll brighten your mood.”

A snarky retort jumped to my lips, but when I opened my mouth to speak it, I caught the hopeful look in his eyes and swallowed it. He didn’t deserve my attitude. Ryder and Knox, maybe, but Brooks had gone out of his way to make me feel safe. I didn’t really believe that they had kidnapped me at this point.

The other two men had made it painfully obvious that they didn’t want me to be there, and that I was an unexpected inconvenience.

“Thanks,” I mumbled, but made no effort to pick them up. I wasn’t in any mood to sit around watching TV. Brooks bowed out, but before he could leave, I called out. “Do you think I could get access to a tablet or laptop?”

His complexion waned, but he forced a smile.

“I’ll talk to Knox,” he replied, my expectation shattering with his words.

“You have to clear everything with Knox and Ryder?” I grumbled, but Brooks wasn’t fazed by my taunt.

“Knox is our tech guy. We all have our roles here.”

Before I could question him further, he disappeared, leaving me to ponder what any of that meant.

Knox had made his sentiments about me clear, just like Ryder had. But they had also been adamant that they didn’t want me here. Maybe there was a chance they would allow me to get online—assuming there was internet access in this godforsaken place.

I got out of bed and padded toward the window, parting the half-drawn flannel curtains. The view beyond stole my breath.

Snow continued to swirl down from the now blackened sky, creating a strange mirage of salt against outer space. White-capped coniferous trees extended as far back as I could make out, sprawled at an uneven angle, proving that we really were on a mountainside—not that I had really doubted it. My ears were still vaguely clogged, the air distinctly thinner up here.

I stepped back and looked around the room, noting that there was no bathroom. I parted my lips to call out and ask, but changed my mind about it. No one had told me to stay there, and I wasn’t locked in.

Curiosity and a full bladder propelled me toward the ajar door, and I gently opened it. No one was waiting in the hall, to my relief, and I ambled out, my breath in my throat, looking one way, then the other. Closed doors sat on either end of the hall but for one open room, diagonally across from where I was, next to the staircase.

Peeking over the railing, I still saw no one and hurried across the narrow passageway to the open door. It was the bathroom, and I shut the door, flipping on the soft lighting to do my business.

When I came out, Brooks had returned and waited for me outside the room respectfully.

“Oh, good. You found the bathroom,” he said pleasantly. “I was just coming to grab your tray and see if you were still hungry.”

I eyed him skeptically. “Can I just come downstairs and find something to eat?”

He looked surprised by the question. “Sure,” he agreed, his answer stunning me. “I just didn’t think you’d be up for it yet.”

“Oh.” Embarrassed, I looked at the floor, swallowing as I realized that maybe Ryder had been right. I was acting like a bitch in my hysteria, although he hadn’t used such a harsh word.

“I could take you on a tour of the house if you want,” Brooks added. “I mean, if you’re up for it. Show you where everything is.”

Raising my head, I met his eye and shook my chin quickly, my messy hair falling over my forehead and face.

“Maybe in a little while,” I replied. “Can we just talk for a bit?”

His gorgeous eyes lit up, and he nodded eagerly. “Yeah. Sure!” he agreed. “In your room?”

I flinched at the wording. My room. Was it really my room?

“Okay,” I replied, the two of us heading back in. I perched on the edge of the bed, and Brooks took the wingchair, his muscled forearms exposed, the flannel of his shirt rolled to the elbows as he leaned forward.

I pulled my bare feet up into a crossed-legged position, twisting my hands into my lap. “Can I ask you some questions?” I ventured tentatively.

His smile faltered slightly, but he nodded again. “Yeah. Sure.”

“Will you answer them?”

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