Page 29 of Shared By the Mountain Men Triplets

He arches a brow. “This is my trying-not-to-murder-my-brother face.”

“Ah, classic.” I step inside and lean against the doorframe. “Don’t know how I could have forgotten that one.”

His mouth twitches briefly, then returns to its scowl.

I glance at his screen, where there’s a financial spreadsheet open. “How bad?”

“Manageable.”

“Rhett.”

He exhales through his nose. “For now.”

We have a cushion, but we don’t have unlimited room to turn away clients while a cartel, or whatever the hell this turns out to be, uses the wilderness as their own private highway.

“You okay, Prime?”

He closes the laptop and gets to his feet. “No, but we’re handling it.”

That’s Rhett. He’s always moving ahead. It doesn’t matter if it’s grief, debt, war, danger, or love. He takes the weight, calculates the load, and keeps walking.

I want to make a joke, but I don’t.

That night, I cook dinner, because the alternative is Rhett’s competent but uninspired grilling. Cade would be satisfied eating cold rations from a pouch for days on end, but the occasion calls for comfort food.

When everything’s done, the four of us sit down to meatloaf with brown sugar sauce, mashed potatoes with a generous amount of butter, and fresh biscuits, because Wren seemed to really enjoy them the first time she was here for dinner.

Tonight, when she takes her first bite of potatoes, she closes her eyes for a second, like it’s a small, private pleasure. My blood turns hot, and it has nothing to do with the stove.

“That good?” I ask.

Her eyes open, and she catches me watching her. “I’m trying not to embarrass myself.”

“By enjoying the food?”

“By making noises over it.”

Cade coughs into his hand, and when Wren realizes what she said, her cheeks flush with color.

“Wren,” I say softly, and her eyes meet mine. “When you want to make noises over something I give you,you go right ahead.”

Rhett’s fork hits the table.

“Jesus,” Cade mutters.

Wren’s mouth parts, and for a moment, nobody moves. Then her eyes drop to her plate, and she speaks in a careful, even tone. “The food is delicious, Boone.”

Rhett picks up his fork and points it at me. “Don’t make me regret letting you cook.”

“You’d starve without me.”

“I can grill.”

“You can apply heat to protein.”

“It’s edible.”

“So are MREs, but there’s a reason Cade isn’t in charge of meal planning either.”