Page 159 of Mountain Men Heroes
Taking His Mountain Bride
One
Sawyer
Istepped into the Rusty Nail for the first time in three years.
The scent of cold, frothy ale and perfectly grilled burgers from my grill hit my senses and it felt like coming home. Sometimes I have a hard time remembering why I stay away and let someone else operate the one thing that gives me joy in this life.
Mac, the second born of the Becker clan and my brother, swung up from a chair and wrapped a big arm around my neck. “‘Bout time, brother. You’ve been gone too fucking long.”
“I hear ya,” I said gruffly, giving him a one-arm hug.
This time around I wasn’t too sure I’d be making the trip home upright or in a body bag, so to hear his voice brought home a lot of feelings.
Only a few people know what I do besides owning a bar on the side of Wild Ridge Mountain. He’s one of them. Just the way it had to be.
Wearing a smirk, Dyson, our younger brother, elbowed his way past Mac and we repeated the warm greeting.
Damn, it felt good to be home.
Dyson paused and did a scan of the room before heading to a round table in the corner of the bar. Eeli, our childhood friend, pushed to the front and led the pack of us.
I locked a hand over Mac’s shoulder and gave a tight squeeze. “Feels good to be home. Finally.” At the table, we shifted chairs around so none of us had our backs facing the rest of the room.
Military blood ran deep in our veins making some habits never-dying.
I took in the room in a quick glance, running a hand over the scruff along my jaw. Now that I was home maybe I’d grow it out a little. It would be a change. But looking around, not much else had changed which is what I liked. Still the dark polished wood paneling and pristine black leather seats.
Through an arched doorway, I could see the game room in the back with the worn-out pool tables. Looked like some new flat screens were the only change. I’d have to speak with the woman I left in charge about the tables.
“Hot damn! I heard rumors you were back in Wild Ridge!” Birdie, the woman I left in charge of running the place, hurried over to the table. Her thick lashes batting twenty miles an hour.
She threw her arms around the closest one of us to her and I cringed for my friend. She octopused herself around Eeli as if he was her long, lost husband.
Eeli sat rigid in her embrace. Poor man. I couldn’t blame him. He wasn’t big on public displays of affection under the best of circumstances.
And Birdie Holt was far from the best of circumstances. She had a good twenty years on all of us, but that had never stopped her from trying to get one or the other or all of us in her bed. She liked the thought of snagging a Becker by any means. That said, the woman knew two things that served me and well—how to grill a burger and manage money. She was honest too. That wasn’t something to bulk at on the worst of days.
Her skinny frame didn’t do a thing for me. I preferred a woman with some soft curves and meat that could handle my heavy weight.
None of us had ever been tempted to go there with her, not even as randy teenage boys with our raging hormones and constant hardons.
Even now I found my lip curling as her bony hands wrapped themselves around Dyson’s biceps, holding on for dear life as she batted her eyelashes up at him. Dyson quickly pushed her off on Mac, and Mac passed her to me like we were playing a warped game of hot potato.
She reached around my neck and I warred with myself not to growl my irritation right in her face. The pushy woman with the over-styled, over-dyed red hair and pink lipstick on her teeth drew my ire to the surface. A lesser of a man would throw her aside and toss her as far as he could throw her, but I valued her abilities to run this place while I was away. But that didn't mean we wouldn’t be having a good heart-to-heart about her behavior. I wanted people to feel comfortable coming here, not harassed.
I swallowed back the irritation causing the vein in my neck to bulge.
“Birdie, do you mind if we go ahead and order? I’ve been dreaming about our burgers since the second I hit the mountainside.”
“Me too. The hungry part. I’ve wanted one since I woke up.” Mac, ever the diplomat, offered her a grin I’m sure Birdie found charming, though to me all those teeth flashing made him look more like a used car salesman.
But it worked. Birdie hopped out of my arms to get our orders. In no time at all, our table was piled high with hot wings, nachos, bacon cheeseburgers with fries, and a round of ice-cold beers.
“Weird how good the food is here given you hired a person I never see eat.” Mac dragged three French fries through the puddle of ketchup on his plate and shoved them in his mouth. “Picky as she is about her food, I can’t imagine Birdie ever tastes it herself.”
I grunted in response, too busy shoveling food into my own mouth to give any more of my attention to my manager.