Mountain Desire (Wild Mountain Men 3)

I walked over to her, took her hand and gave it a little squeeze. “That’s because I like you.”

“Thirsty? Hungry?” Finch asked, standing beside the fridge. Eve turned his way.

She shook her head. “No, thanks. What does your ranch do? Alfalfa? Horses? Winter wheat?”

“Cattle,” Finch replied. “Beef. Anderson Farms has been around for generations.”

“You live here alone?”

“My parents divorced when I was young. Mom couldn’t handle the winters. My dad has dementia and lives in a memory care place in town. It’s just me here now.”

“He must be a great guy.”

I remembered Mr. Anderson before the disease took over. He was quiet, kind and hardworking, just like Finch.

Finch nodded but said nothing.

She tipped her head to the side and studied him. “I get my beef under plastic in the supermarket, not with four hooves and a moo.”

I shook my head, hooked my arm around her waist and led her to the family room. “Finch has a thousand acres and specializes in free range. He doesn’t sell to the conglomerates who transport to feed lots in Colorado.”

“I know about them. I grew up there.”

“In Colorado?”

She nodded. “Small town an hour up in the mountains from Denver.”

Finch followed and went to look out the big window. His land was obscured by the heavy snow. “I’m not interested in talking about my beef. Not unless it’s this.”

He pointed to the thick bulge in his jeans. He cupped his dick, gave it a squeeze.

“Oh my God,” Eve said, then started to laugh. “Seriously?”

He shrugged, but his mouth was turned up in a sly smile. “No strings. That’s what you wanted. That means no small talk. Let’s fuck.”

“Just like that?” she asked. Her eyes were wide, clearly stunned by Finch’s boldness. She wasn’t a fuck-and-forget type. We’d known that right away about her, and it pissed me off the way Finch was talking to her.

He wasn’t that kind of guy. But he was playing the part she wanted. For now. She might be able to ride our dicks for the weekend and think herself completely free and clear of any kind of emotional detachment. It wasn’t her. She got involved, invested in people’s lives. That was who she was—it was obvious even in the short amount of time we’d known her—and why we wanted her so much.

Not everyone would defend a friend’s house from burglars in their underwear.

She wasn’t a virgin, but I doubted she’d ever picked up a guy at a bar before. It wasn’t in her nature to be shallow. Her job dug into people’s lives and wanted to know them. By the look on her face, she wanted to know more of us, wanted more than just a quick fuck, but was almost desperate to keep us at an emotional distance.

This was good news. We had a chance. A real chance.

I turned her to face me, set my hands just above her ass, my fingers sliding into the back pockets of her jeans.

“You call the shots, Eve.” She tipped her chin up to look at me. Fuck, she was pretty. I hadn’t noticed the spray of freckles across her pert nose in the dark the night before. They were faint, but her skin was pale so they stood out. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips full. There was a tiny indent in her chin. It was her eyes though, big for her face, that held so much. Wariness, eagerness and more. She’d seen a lot in her job, I was sure. And yet she was here, with two almost-strangers. That showed she trusted us, even if it was only subconsciously.

Being Poppy’s brother certainly helped.

“You did last night. You do now. Sure, we kidnapped your ass, but you came with us all on your own,” I added.

“Yeah, you could have tasered us if you didn’t want to come,” Finch said. “A no would have worked, too.”

She pursed her lips and gave a funny eye roll, knowing we’d called her out. She said nothing, so I pushed on.

“You want more of what we gave you last night?” I asked. My dick was hard, and I wanted to reach down and adjust it. The only way it was going to be more comfortable was if I opened my pants and let it out, and I wasn’t doing it until she said yes.