Two Times the Mountain Men (Menage MFM Romance) Read online

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  Two Times the Mountain Men

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  Two Times the Mountain Men

  Copyright 2019 by Terry Towers

  All rights reserved. With the exception of brief quotes used for critical reviews and articles no part of this book may be used or reproduced without the written permission of the author Terry Towers. Saint John, New Brunswick, Canada. Terry Towers can be contacted via her website at www.elixaeverett.com

  Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via internet or other means, electronic or print without the authors permission. Criminal copyright infringement without monetary gain is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov.ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors imagination and used fictitiously.

  The material in this book is intended for ages 18+ it may contain adult subject matter including explicit sexual content, profanity, drug use and violence.

  Two Times the Mountain Men

  by

  Terry Towers

  Description:

  Writer’s block. A critical deadline. A blizzard and a couple of dangerous escaped fugitives on the loose. What else could go wrong?

  Try being forcibly removed from my rental cabin by a couple of mouth-droppingly sexy men from the ranger patrol, insisting it was for my own good. Own-good my ass! I had work to do and they were seriously messing with my timeline. I could handle myself, thank you very much.

  However, what I felt to be an outrageous violation of my rights seems to be turning into just what I may have needed when the three of us become snowed in and we only have each other to keep ourselves entertained, spiking the creative juices in me to an all-time high.

  The problem is that our situation is only temporary, and they’ve been very clear they’re not into the whole relationship thing. I just need to keep emotions out if it and use them for inspiration—sadly that’s easier said than done...

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  Chapter 1

  Genevieve

  “There’s no cell phone service up there so make sure you’ve taken care of everything you need to before you leave the town.” The owner of the cabin I was renting passed me the keys across the table of the diner we’d agreed to meet at. The diner was a cute little place with a 1950s décor. Though I doubted it was intentional; more likely it was opened in the fifties and they never bothered to update.

  Admittedly, the entire town was quaint; a complete contrast to the hustle and bustle of where I was born and raised: New York City. The cabin was going to be where I’d be living for the next month, perhaps two. I’d booked the cabin for two months, just in case, but I was seriously hoping that I’d be over my writer’s block and have my latest novel complete well before that.

  “Yes, I’m aware of the lack of cell-phone connection. It’s part of the reason I wanted to go there. No cell phones and no internet mean no distractions.”

  The dark-haired, fifty-something man smiled, humor and a spark of a little something else in his dark eyes. “It’s not too often I come across an attractive young woman like yourself wanting to be disconnected from the world.”

  I could feel the heat rushing up to my cheeks and briefly looked away. I wasn’t used to men giving me compliments and I would argue twenty-eight was a little too old to qualify to be considered a young woman. Being from Manhattan, unless you’re drop-dead gorgeous with a modelesque figure you blended into the scenery. I certainly didn’t have the tiny body that was considered beautiful by the media in this day and age. It also didn’t help that I was an author, so I spent most of my time locked away in my home office typing out stories and ordering food delivery. “Thank you, but I’m not your ordinary kinda girl.”

  “I don’t doubt it. I also want to point out that it’s been storming in our area quite frequently lately. There is a possibility that you may not be able to get back to town right away. If a blizzard comes along, the roads from the cabin could be cut off from the rest of the world for days, maybe even a week or longer. You need to be prepared for that possibility. And I will say there is a major blizzard forecasted to be incoming.”

  “That’s perfectly fine. I have a very capable vehicle, and if the roads can’t be driven on with my truck then I don’t need to go anywhere. The snow won’t last forever.”

  “Very true. I just want to make sure that you have enough supplies, including gas and so forth.”

  Looking into his dark eyes again, I smiled. “It’ll be fine. I’ll be fine. I’ve got enough groceries and supplies in the back of my truck to last me six months.” It was no exaggeration. I’d gone overboard, but it was better safe than sorry.

  “There is a radio that is a direct line to the search-and-rescue here in town. If anything happens, call them on the radio, channel sixteen, and they’ll do what they can.”

  Looking down at my watch, I sighed. I had at least a half-hour drive on slippery roads and wanted to get going. “I appreciate all the advice.”

  He opened his mouth, no doubt to keep talking but seemed to second guess himself and shut it instead. Giving me a slow nod, he said, “Very well. I hope your time in the cabin will give you the satisfaction you’re looking for.”

  I looked up at him and wondered if he meant any type of sexual innuendo with that comment. I really hoped not. I hadn’t dated in quite some time and I can’t say I hated being single. My last relationship had been mentally and emotionally abusive, putting me through the wringer, and I wasn’t keen on going through that again. Besides, he had to be at least twenty-five years my senior. Being with someone who was old enough to be my father did nothing for me.

  “Thank you again.” I tightened my hand around the key before slipping it into the inner pouch of my handbag. “You don’t know how much this means to me.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  After settling the lunch bill, we stood together and shook hands across the table. Finally, I could get going. I started to turn, only to be stopped with a hand on my upper arm. For God’s sakes, now what? I spun around to face him pasting a smile on my face that didn’t reflect my inner feelings.

  “Do you have a map?”

  “A map,” I parroted.

  Laughing, he nodded. “Yeah. A map. Your phone GPS will only work for part of the way and there’s a number of adjoining roads; it can be easy to get lost without a map.

  I groaned inwardly, throwing my hands out at either side of me, palms up. “No, I do not. Perhaps I’m not as prepared for this as I thought I was.”

  “No worries, I just so happen to have one in my vehicle, come with me and we’ll set you up.”

  “Thank you.”

  Following him to his vehicle I waited as he fumbled though his glove box and eventually produced a well-used map that had been severely worn at the edges and corners. Grabbing a pen from the center console of his car, he flattened the map onto the hood of the vehicle and drew a line from our current location to the end point, which he circled.

  “And
there you go.” He folded the map so that the drawn upon area was on top pinpointing my route. “Do you need me to drive up periodically to check on you?” His eyes locked onto mine and I could see an interest in them. “Maybe this is inappropriate, but I feel the need to tell you that I appreciate a woman with curves like yours. Maybe we can have dinner sometime?”

  Oh hell no. I needed to deflate this before he got the wrong idea; the last thing I needed was the owner of the cabin constantly doing house calls with a bottle of wine in one hand and possibly a roofie in the other. “No. I appreciate it, but I’ll be fine. My boyfriend will be coming up soon.”

  Liar, a voice in the back of my mind scolded. Sometimes a little white lie was necessary.

  His smile faltered and his demeanor became immediately curt. “Well then, I guess you’re all set.”

  “Thank you.”

  Relieved I was done with him, I got into my truck, which I’d rented from a local resident, and took a long, hard look at the map. The directions seemed pretty straightforward.

  Maps. Wow, talk about a blast from the past. I gave my head a shake as I placed the map on the seat next to me. I may have been of a generation that relied on phones, but I’d learned how to read a map—thank goodness.

  As I made my way toward the cabin, I was taken aback at how beautiful the scenery was. The trees and mountains already had a light blanket of pure white virgin snow on them. It was such a difference from the muddy, discolored slush I was used to trudging through back home in New York in the wintertime. Roughly halfway to my destination it started to lightly snow; the snowflakes were perfect, shimmering as they dropped. This was going to be amazing. I’d even brought some cross-country skis and snowshoes with me in case I got some cabin fever and had to get out for a bit. I didn’t know how to ski, but it couldn’t be that hard. I’d seen YouTube videos.

  The sun was just sinking down below the mountain line as I pulled up to the secluded cabin. For a moment I was reminded of all the horror movies I’d seen over the years; it never turned out well for the lone person.

  Laughing at myself, I gave my head a shake. Such silliness. This place was way too beautiful to be the scene for a horror movie.

  Now the hard work begins…

  Shutting off the engine I hopped out of the truck, unbuckled and pulled back the canvas top covering the cab. For the life of me I couldn’t remember the proper name of the cover, but it kept my groceries and supplies safe from the elements and that was the main thing.

  The cab was also jam packed. Placing my fists on my hips I sighed and got a better idea. I’d check the cabin out first…then deal with the supplies.

  Walking back to the cab, I grabbed my purse and pulled out the keys to the cabin. There was no number on the cabin and the door was a plain dark-wood door with a small two-foot by one-foot window.

  Unlocking the door, I opened it up and stepped into what would be my new home for the next two months. Inside, it was pretty basic and a faint, unpleasant musty smell greeted my nostrils. There was a small living room with a plaid-design fabric sofa. A little two-person table sat in what was the dining room and there was a small kitchen, which featured a wood stove that was supposed to be the area to cook on and the source of heat for the entire place. There was a small bathroom with a toilet and standing shower and the bedroom had a basic six-drawer chest dresser and a double-sized bed with an old-fashioned patchwork quilt.

  This would do. To some people the cabin could be considered quaint.

  It was becoming dark quickly, so I began to flick on the lights; at least it had some electricity and working plumbing. Not wanting to unload the truck in the dark, I hustled my way back to the vehicle and began the twenty-minute job of unloading and carrying everything inside.

  With my belongings now safety inside and out of the elements, I pulled the canvas cover down over the truck bed and secured it. There was a large pile of wood already chopped and piled against the side of the cabin with a layer of snow on it. If I was going to be using the wood, I’d have to take it inside where it could dry off.

  The snow was beginning to come down a little harder, the flakes seeming to thicken. I gave myself a minute to look around me, marveling at the beauty of the forest surrounding the cabin. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed movement, and focusing on the spot, I smiled. A pretty doe looked back at me, its dark eyes gleaming, before sauntering off. I doubted I could have chosen a more serene and peaceful spot.

  I was starting to pile the wood into my arms when I noticed something odd. Footprints in the snow. I was no tracker, but there appeared to be the tracks of two people. Frowning, I put the wood back onto the pile and opted to follow the tracks that led out of the clearing and into the thick woods—because that’s what people do, right?

  Who in the hell? My heart rate accelerated. There wasn’t supposed to be anyone within a mile of the cabin. It occurred to me that many horror movies started with the lone female wandering off into the woods following mysterious tracks. Just as quickly as my fear gripped me, it faded, and I laughed at myself. It was hunting season and I remembered the owner told me he’d stocked up the wood pile to last me for the next few months. Of course, there’d be tracks. The tracks appeared to be of the same size and boot style.

  Laughing out loud this time, I shook my head at myself. It must have been the owner of the cabin. Sometimes I had a wild imagination; if only I could put my imagination to good use and get that novel finished, I’d be all set. Hustling back to the wood pile I quickly gathered what I felt I’d need, though I honestly had no idea how much I’d really need to keep the place going for a day. I’d learn.

  Shit! I groaned loudly, noticing I’d left the front door open. It was already chilly in the house, and now I had a fine layer of snow on the wood floor to clean up. There was wood already inside and dried, piled by the wood stove. I emptied my arms of the wood I’d picked up, taking care to keep it away from the dry stuff, and closed the front door.

  It took me a few minutes and several tries, but after some fussing I managed to get a nice strong fire going in the wood stove. It wouldn’t be long before I’d be able to shed my jacket and boots, so in the meantime I began to unload my suitcases and groceries. By the time I was done, the cabin was nice and toasty. It amazed me how one little wood stove could heat an entire cabin, though in the cabin’s defense it was only about 600 square feet in total.

  Heading to the bedroom, I began to unpack my suitcases. There was no washer or dryer so I had to pack twice as much as I thought would be necessary, unless I wanted to take a run into town to the one little laundromats they had there. Though it wasn’t like I was here to socialize, so the majority of what I’d brought was jeans, t-shirts, tank tops and pajama bottoms. For me to be creative, I needed to be comfortable.

  Once I was unpacked, I gave the cabin another look-over. This would do—it would more than do. Yawning, I made myself a ham and cheese sandwich before changing into a pair of Marvel pajama bottoms and a snug black tank top. Slipping under the thick comforter, I hoped that the fire in the wood stove would last me throughout the night.

  The mystery footprints were all but a memory as I closed my eyes.

  Chapter 2

  Brock

  “Thank God this is the last one,” Tyler groaned as I pulled the truck up to the front of the cabin, the final cabin on the list of residences we had to visit and put on alert.

  “Oh, come on. It’s a beautiful afternoon. The snow is falling nicely and once the storm is over the ski conditions will be amazing.” Giving my partner a not-so-gentle punch on the shoulder, I added, “Let’s get this last one over with so we can get back home and sit it out until we get a call.”

  Being that we were part of the Colorado Ranger Patrol, it was a big part of our job to notify residents when blizzards hit. People were naive on how dangerous the mountains could be in bad weather.

  “It’s not just the weather we are here about, Tyler. What if someone opens the door and it’s
one of the escaped convicts on the other side of the door? We have a responsibility.”

  “Yes. I know,” he groaned. Tyler looked tired—really tired. He’d just gotten over pneumonia and still hadn’t fully bounced back yet. “I feel like I’ve been hit by a fucking MAC truck, that’s all.”

  I smiled. “Last one, buddy.”

  “Yup, you said that already.” His patience was at an all-time low. Grabbing the door handle, he opened the door and got out. He was already around the front of the vehicle and to the door before I was even out to join him.

  “Whoa, wait up. We gotta do this all professional like,” I joked, straightening my down-filled, minus-a-million, winter jacket that sported the logo of the Colorado Ranger Patrol, along with my last name—Chambers—that had bunched up around my hips.

  Tyler gave me the side-eye, posing his hand to knock.

  Straightening upright, I brought myself up to my full 6′5, a full four inches taller than my best friend and partner Tyler, though we both had athletic builds. We led very active lifestyles. When we weren’t patrolling the mountains, we were on them skiing. I’d skied on the Olympic team for one of the games, but an injury had taken me out of competition and here I was.

  “Proceed,” I instructed with unnecessary formality that made my partner laugh and shake his head. I gave him an odd look; that was the first laugh I’d gotten from him all day, despite my efforts to cheer him up. In his defense, I hadn’t tried overly hard though.

  “Whatever, dude.” Knocking a few times we both waited for the door to open. There was the soft glow of a light on inside so there was certainly someone within. A couple knocks later we heard the chain on the other side of the door rattle and the deadbolt being unlocked, followed by the door opening to reveal an absolutely breathtaking woman standing before us.