Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73947 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73947 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
The things I’ve observed so far seem too widespread for one amateur poacher, and too organized for casual recreation. Still, they’re not proof of anything I can say out loud. Not yet.
“I’d like to extend the guide contract for at least three more days,” I tell Rhett as I nestle the sample kit back in my bag. “Are you available?”
More silent communication probably passes between them, but I’m focused on my backpack and don’t see it.
“For as long as you need us.” Rhett’s tone tells me it’s all decided.
Later, at the trailhead, the sky has gone golden with the setting sun. My mind is still tangled in data, but when I see all three men bathed in the warm glow, every practical thought deserts me.
They suddenly seem even larger than before, and their triplet-ness comes into sharper focus. Same big hands, same posture, same dark eyes tracking me with an attention I can feel against my skin.
“It was a good day,” Boone says, stretching one of his arms overhead, his bulging bicep distracting me enough that I almost lose my footing. “You didn’t tell us to go to hell once, so I’m calling it a win.”
I huff out a laugh. “We’re not done yet.”
His grin turns wicked, and my attention drops to his mouth again before I can stop it.
Damn it.
“You should come to our cabin for dinner tonight,” Boone says.
I freeze, one hand on the strap of my pack. “Dinner?”
The smile that spreads across his face is somehow both easy and dangerous at the same time. “Nothing fancy. Just something better than whatever you’ve been surviving on at the motel.”
Cade doesn’t say anything, but he’s watching me with the same focus he directs at everything along the trail, and it makes it impossible for me to think straight.
Rhett steps closer. Close enough that I have to tip my head back slightly to meet his eyes. “Come to dinner, Wren.”
The air is still warm, but a shiver runs through me when he says my name in his low, rough voice.
I draw in a breath and fold my arms in front of me to try to regain my composure. “Do you invite all your clients to dinner?”
“All our clients who hire us for more than one day,” Rhett says smoothly.
Boone coughs into his fist, and Cade’s mouth twitches, but Rhett doesn’t even glance at them. He just keeps looking at me, calm, serious, and absolutely lying.
“We need to go over routes for the next few days,” he adds.
“Right.” I nod slowly. “Go over routes.”
I should say no, because the last thing I need is to be alone with all three Wilders in a space smaller than the wide open wilderness. But there are three pairs of eyes fixed on me, and I still must not be thinking straight, because I find myself saying, “Fine. For work reasons.”
Boone’s wicked grin reappears, and Cade looks down like he’s hiding something on his face. Rhett’s smile deepens just enough to make my stomach flip, and I suddenly feel like a rabbit who just agreed to have dinner with three wolves.
CHAPTER 5
WREN
Back at my motel room, I tug off my boots and find a smear of dirt on the inside of my wrist I didn’t notice before. When I pull the tie out of my hair, which smells faintly of pine and sweat, my back muscles groan.
Before I take my clothes off, I stand in front of the bathroom mirror and look at myself with a level of scrutiny I tell myself is professional.
I’m going to have dinner with the Wilder brothers.
At their cabin.
For work reasons.
I repeat that last part a couple of times. I say it aloud a few more times while I shower, and then again while I pull on clean jeans and a soft green sweater.
I dry my hair, giving it a small curl at the ends, and put on tinted lip balm because the mountain air and sun have been hard on my lips. I’m just making myself presentable because it’s the polite thing to do.
My concern for my appearance has nothing to do with Rhett standing close to me and telling me to come to dinner like refusal wasn’t an option. I didn’t curl my hair because Cade watches me like he’s memorizing every step I take, or because Boone’s smile makes my pulse stutter.
They’re my guides, and I need to go over routes with them.
This is true, but it doesn’t explain why my stomach is fluttery when I turn into the long gravel driveway that leads to their cabin. Or why pulling in here at night feels very different than arriving before dawn.
I put the truck in park in front of their house, but don’t immediately cut the engine. I don’t know if I’m giving myself a pep talk or debating if I should turn around and leave when the front door of their cabin opens, and Rhett steps onto the porch, the warm light from inside outlining his tall frame.