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“Sir Reginald sleeps on a nice little crib mattress I bought second-hand. He even has a special blanket and likes to sleep in most mornings.”
Wyatt’s head snaps as he points at the open wooden stairs leading to the apartment. “How are you going to get him up the stairs every day? Those legs don’t look long enough to climb stairs.”
“I’ll carry him.” I shrug.
The mountain man’s eyebrows shoot to the moon as he points an accusing finger at Reggie. “He’s got to weigh at least fifty pounds.”
“Sixty-five, actually, but my vet friend, Avery, just put us on alow-calorie feed even though I think Reggie is beautiful just the way he is.”
“For fuck’s sake,” Wyatt growls and jams a hand through the top of his hair. “You aren’t going to be able to carry him up those stairs when you’re pregnant, Trista.”
“Well, I’m not pregnant yet.” I scoff, my chin cocking up to meet his as he looms over me with his giant mountain-man stature.
He pauses for a second as his eyes rove over my face. His voice is deep and husky when he replies, “Yet.”
Goose bumps erupt over my flesh as one of the tiniest words in the English language just had a massive impact on my not-so-tiny body. I realize we’re not doing this pregnancy thing the old-fashioned way, but it’s been a while since I’ve been laid, and with that one little word, my traitorous mind wandered to a reality where we did it the old-fashioned way.And I liked that thought.
I swallow slowly, desperate to get control of myself. I glance down at our chests, which are nearly brushing each other. When did we get so close? His scent of pine trees, woodchips, and hay is intoxicating.
Wyatt’s eyes flick down to my lips as I wonder what the hell are we actually arguing about? I want to be pregnant. And I suppose he’s right…I shouldn’t be lifting sixty-plus pounds once I have a baby growing inside me. I guess Reginald’s sleeping quarters never came up in all our lawyer negotiating.
And why is he looking at me like that? And why does my body feel the way it feels right now? I’m hot and agitated having him so close to me and telling me what to do.I like it, and I loathe it. I like to loathe it! Gasp! This is the sweet-and-psycho bit that Everly warned me about.
The voices of men outside force us to pull away from each other just as they walk into the barn with armloads of my stuff.
“Trista, these are my brothers Calder and Luke.” Wyatt’s voice is strained as he avoids eye contact with me. Oh, he’s mad mad.
The two giant men in flannel stop talking and gape at me for a moment. The heavily tattooed one with devilish eyes tips his chin up and says, “What’s up, MB?”
Wyatt glowers at his brother. “Calder…”
The slightly smaller one (although none of them are small, honestly…I’m in a barn full of flannelled giants) with floppy blond hair laughs boyishly, clearly enjoying the tension between his two brothers.
“What’s MB mean?” I ask curiously.
“Don’t ask,” another voice echoes from behind them.
Calder and Luke spread apart to reveal what I can only assume to be another brother. “Wait…there are four of you? I thought there were only three.”
“This is my eldest brother, Max,” Wyatt explains with a wave of his hand. “He’s Everly’s dad. He lives in Boulder, not here on the mountain.”
My brows lift knowingly as I come face-to-face with the man who raised the girl with bigger balls than me. “Didn’t want to join in on theSeven Brides for Seven Brothersremake up here?”
Max stares blankly at me, clearly not as up-to-date on his classic musicals as he should be. Honestly, I love that film, even if it is highly problematic. It’s about a bunch of bros who look like the retro Brawny paper towel man dressed in skintight buckskin and tassels. They sing and dance when they’re not busy kidnapping young women and trapping them up on their mountain with an avalanche until they develop Stockholm syndrome and fall in love with them.
It’s a cinematic masterpiece.
I stare slack-jawed at the men blessing me with all their beautiful hides and feel thankful I am up here of my own free will. If not for work, then for the beautiful views.
Wyatt is the thicker of the four, pulling off that “I work hard, but I still like to eat” look. Calder, the one with all the ink, definitely looks like he clocks some serious time at the gym. And Luke, the smaller but not-small brother, is still fit but not nearly as bulky as his brothers. Hell, even Max, the non-flannel-wearing one, looks like he’d stretch some plaid if given the chance.
“You want this stuff upstairs, I assume?” Luke asks and makes a move toward the steps.
“Yes, but just leave it at the bottom here. I can carry it up.”
I hear a low rumble from Wyatt, and my eyes fly wide. Seriously…I’m not pregnant yet. I can carry as much as I want to carry until we dothis insemination, I pee on a stick, and we make this arrangement official.
I move to take the stuff out of Luke’s hands, and he shakes his head and offers me a sweet smile. “I got it, MB. Give us an hour, and we’ll knock out that whole van.”
