Mountain Desire (Wild Mountain Men 3)

She laughed. “Probably not. They’re good guys. Take your time and have fun. Get to know them. You’ll like what you discover, I promise.”

I’d liked what I’d discovered so far a whole hell of a lot. Their washboard abs. Muscular thighs. Gentle hands. Skilled mouths. Soft words. Powerful thrusts. Deep laughs. Penetrating gazes. Comforting holds. Sexual caresses. “One would think you’re getting commission for all the upselling you’re doing.”

“Shane’s had to deal with shit about our dad since… forever and hasn’t found a woman that’s, well, worthy. As for Finch, you know what happened with him. It hasn’t made it easy.”

I frowned. “No, what happened with Finch?”

“His arrest.” Through the phone I could hear a bell ringing. She was at the middle school a few blocks south of the town library. There weren’t snow days in Cutthroat, no matter what the accumulation, so it was Monday as usual for her. “Look, I’ve got to go to a staff meeting.”

She hung up.

Arrest? Finch?

8

EVE

I grabbed my coffee, took a sip of the dark brew. Nix knew how I liked it with just a splash of milk. Swiveling my chair, I turned to my computer, looked up Finch Anderson in the database. His data came up. It confirmed his address, age and DMV records for his truck, snowmobile. I pushed a few more buttons and ran a criminal history. With high-tech speed, there was his arrest.

Oh shit. Assault.

I glanced up when the chief came in, but didn’t pay him any attention beyond a quick hello. How could I when the guy I’d spent the weekend with, the guy who’d handcuffed me to the bed and made me come on his face, had spent three months in jail for assault?

I pushed my chair back, fumbled for my cell in my purse and stood.

“Be right back,” I said to Nix but didn’t look his way as I walked off. I found an empty interrogation room, shut the door and leaned against it.

I took a deep breath, then dialed Finch.

“Hey, sugar.”

“You went to jail for assault and didn’t tell me?”

There was a pause.

“That was a long time ago.”

“So?” I snapped. I began to pace in the small room.

“Did you read the full report?”

“I got caught on the word ‘assault,’” I replied.

“Would you like to hear the full story?” The music that had been in the background cut off. I pictured him in his cowboy hat working in his barn or stable. Fixing his snowmobile. Tossing hay. Maybe he was in his truck.

I sighed, tucked my hair behind my ear. “Yes, of course.”

“It was the year after high school. A friend of mine, Shelly Montez, was being harassed by a guy. We’d gone through school together. We weren’t close or anything, just hung out some. But there are only so many places to hang out in Cutthroat, especially if you’re not old enough to drink.”

Whoever used the room last hadn’t pushed in the chairs, and I walked around the table and slid them into place absently as I listened.

“That didn’t mean we didn’t drink, but we couldn’t do it in the bars. So we went to people’s barns. The back forty of someone’s property. Trailheads. Wherever. That time, we were at the Cutthroat lake. A guy was into Shelly, putting the moves on pretty hard. She said no. He didn’t like it and grabbed her to go with him. I stepped in and we fought. I won the fight, and Shelly left with her friends. The next day I’m charged with assault. The guy was a Richie Rich from Cutthroat Mountain, and his daddy was pissed.”

“You’re not exactly the poor kid from the wrong side of the tracks. You have a big chunk of land. I’d say your family has some money.”

“That’s land, not cold, hard cash. There’s no comparison between a trust fund and acreage. I went to jail for three months.”

Anger and helplessness settled over me like a heavy blanket. I could only imagine how Finch had felt when he’d done the honorable thing defending a woman and he’d ended up in jail for it.