Page 46 of Shared By the Mountain Men Triplets

Held by them.

Taken apart by them.

I excuse myself before my thoughts show on my face more than they probably already have.

In Boone’s room, I stand beside the bed and press both palms to my cheeks. My whole body is hot, but I don’t think even a cold shower would help.

I look around the room that isn’t mine but somehow feels less temporary than the motel room ever did. My field notebook is on the nightstand, my brush and hair tie are on the dresser, and my face wash is in the bathroom, lined up right beside the men’s soap, like I belong in the middle of their lives.

They made space for me, and I stepped into it before I fully understood what that meant.

Before I can think too hard about it, I walk back into the hall. The kitchen light is off, and the cabin is dimmer now, lit by the amber glow of two lamps and a low fire in the fireplace.

The room looks exactly like it’s looked a dozen times since I came here and nothing like it’s ever looked before.

Rhett’s at the dining table with maps spread in front of him. His black T-shirt pulls across his shoulders, and his hair is still slightly damp from the quick shower he took before dinner. The severe expression on his face makes my stomach dip.

Cade is near the fireplace, cleaning a rifle. The disassembled parts are precisely spaced on a cloth beside him, and his long fingers work with practiced skill. His sleeves are pushed up, and the strength in his forearms makes my mouth go dry.

Boone is on the couch with a book open in one hand. His bare feet are stretched toward the fire, and he looks the most relaxed of the three, but he’s not relaxed. I know it the second I enter the room.

All three of them look up, and the air changes.

I walk into the center of the space and stop there, between the table and the fire and the couch. My heart’s beating so hard I feel it in my throat.

“I heard you last night,” I say.

CHAPTER 20

WREN

Three identical brothers go motionless, and the silence that fills the room is so thick it makes the fire sound loud.

Something dark moves through Rhett’s eyes. “How much?”

“Enough.”

Boone puts his feet on the floor and leans toward me. “Wren?—”

“No.” I lift a hand because I need to get this out. “I’m tired of pretending I don’t want you.”

Cade sets down his cleaning cloth, and Rhett turns fully toward me.

I look around at each of them. “I don’t know why we’re all ignoring what’s happening between us.”

Boone’s eyes flare, Cade’s fist clenches and releases, and Rhett pushes back from the table and gets to his feet. He does it slowly, but there’s nothing uncertain about the way he moves.

“Be careful,” he says.

I lift my chin. “No.”

I take one step toward him. Then another. “I’ve been careful my entire adult life. I convinced myself wanting less made me sensible.”

None of them move, but their attention closes around me like hands.

“I don’t want less, and I don’t want to be careful. Not anymore.”

Boone stands, Cade follows, and my pulse stutters. They’re each big men on their own, but together, they fill the room with heat and muscle, and I get the sense their control is holding back something much rougher.