Page 5 of Shared By the Mountain Men Triplets

I keep a grip on the wave of relief that runs through me, but my brothers notice anyway. “You’ll have it tonight,” I say.

“Perfect.”

Fuck,even that one word does something to me. She’s all business, direct and focused, and apparently that works for me, which is inconvenient as hell.

Boone drums his fingers on the map. “How many days are we talking?”

“Three or four initially. Possibly longer, depending on what I find.”

“We can do that,” I tell her.

Cade looks at me with a silent question. We have a two-day scouting trip penciled in for a bachelor party next week, and enough repair work stacked at the barn to keep us swearing until dark for a month. We can adjust, though. We’ll have to.

I hold Cade’s gaze for half a second, and he gives the slightest nod. Boone catches it and leans back. “We can do that,” he echoes.

Wren watches the exchange with her sharp eyes. “Do you three always decide things without talking?”

“Yes,” Cade says.

“No,” Boone says.

“Sometimes,” I say.

That gets us another flicker at the corner of her mouth, but I want the full smile again, even though I resent wanting it.

I give my mug another quarter turn. “Do you have lodging?”

“I’m staying at the motel in town.” She pulls a FWS business card from a pocket inside the notebook and hands it to me. “My cell number and email are on there.”

“I’ll text you our address along with a gear list.”

“All right, Rhett.” She rolls up the map and tucks her things back in her bag. “I’ll see you at five.”

When she gets to her feet, all three of us stand at once. She smiles again, and it hits me even harder than her laugh.

“Good night, Wilders.”

“Good night, Wren.” Boone’s tone is smooth as whiskey.

Cade only nods.

“Drive safe,” I say.

Her eyes flick to mine one last time before she turns and cuts back through the bar the way she came in. Her hair brushes between her shoulder blades, and her hips shift with each purposeful stride.

I watch her go, and so do Cade and Boone.

We need the work, and Wren Hollis is work. A capable woman with field experience, a federal badge, and an assignment that starts at dawn. That’s all.

Except Boone is smiling into his beer, Cade is still watching the door, and I know they’re both lying to themselves, too.

CHAPTER 3

WREN

Professionally, I’m prepared for this hike. My boots are broken in, my pack is balanced, my GPS unit is clipped to the shoulder strap, bear spray is within easy reach, and my sidearm is secure beneath my jacket.

Personally … I’m in trouble.