Page 13 of Eco-Activist’s Mountain Men (Mountain Men Reverse Harem #4)

Toby

I honestly don't remember ever having so much fun in this dump.

It's not like I hate the place, or anything. In fact, I enjoy my job. The guys are team players who work hard and watch each other’s backs, and I get to work with my older brother. All in all, I guess I’m pretty lucky.

But it is a dump. I mean… we’re miles from anywhere. Totally isolated. I’m not saying it’s quiet, but put it this way—if a moth clears its throat, that’s big news for a week. Aside from tree harvesting, nothing ever happens.

Sure, sometimes we manage a Friday night down in Rushville, but that’s a two-hour drive each way, and when you finally get there, you still ain’t exactly in Vegas.

Three lousy bars to pick from, each selling equally lousy beer, each with just one pool table, and all of them with a single TV that seems permanently tuned to reruns of Cheers.

There's nothing wrong with that program in principle. But once you've seen it, you've seen it. The class divide between him and his dad, and the rivalry between him and his brother… well, it kinda palls after the five thousandth showing. If I never had to see Dr. Frasier Crane’s face again, I’d die a happy man. My advice is, if you wanna get on with your children in later years, don’t send them to a swanky school that'll teach 'em to be different from you. And what's wrong with scrambled eggs?

As for women up here… let’s just say I’ve seen more attractive horses and leave it at that. Out in these hills, rumor has it there’s more interbreeding between second cousins than I care to imagine.

So yeah—Luna’s a surprise. A very pleasant one.

For starters, she brings color to this place. Everything here is brown or gray. Brown floors, brown walls, gray roofs. Brown uniforms. Gray safety gear. Even the damn trucks are painted brown—company branding, apparently.

Then in walks Luna. Blue eyes, bright pink hair, and a smile that—on the rare occasion she lets it loose—could light up the whole damn universe.

At first, I thought she was attractive but dumb. I mean, anyone who buys into that eco-activist crap has to be halfway stupid, right?

Turns out, she’s not dumb—just misled. Full of propaganda, like most people her age. But she’s got a brain, and more importantly, she actually uses it. What’s more, when she realizes she’s wrong? She admits it.

That takes guts. Strength of character, even.

But what I like most about her is the energy. That spark. She’s got this fierce zest for life that radiates in all directions. Yeah, she’s sexy as hell—but it’s more than that.

She challenges me. Pushes back. Doesn’t just giggle at my jokes and roll over like most girls I’ve known. Actually, come to think of it, she doesn’t laugh at my jokes at all.

Instead, she fires back. Makes me think. Forces me to dig deeper.

And her humor? Dark as a collapsed mine shaft, but sharp. Really sharp. Witty too, though usually at someone else’s expense. Poor old Luke’s been her favorite target—she’s had her claws in him more than once.

It’s not just me warming to her, either.

Eric is obviously head over heels in love.

Poor guy wears it like a neon sign. I don’t think he’s too experienced with women—he’s mooning around like a teenager with a crush on his teacher.

Sweet, really. Luna doesn’t seem to mind.

To her credit, she hasn’t abused her power over him either.

Luke, on the other hand, loves to argue with her. Says he doesn’t trust her, but I’ve caught him eyeing her thighs when he thought no one was looking. Hypocrite.

And my brother Jack? Man, poor old Jack can’t take his eyes off her. He’s always mentioning her, even when we’re in the middle of talking shop. She’s clearly on his mind. Funny, really—I’d never have pictured the two of them together. Jack and Luna… now there’s a thought.

Even Southpaw has a soft spot for her. Wherever she goes, he follows.

Mopes around, trailing a few feet behind, and when she sits down, he plunks himself right there too, practically guarding her.

Strange, since he usually ignores visitors.

And it’s not like she encourages him—quite the opposite, actually.

Me? I know she likes me. I can tell from the way she laughs at my jokes, the way her eyes flick toward me when she thinks I’m not looking.

But if I’m going to get anywhere with her, I need to make a move.

And I already have the perfect plan.

"Hey, Princess Hopalong, how are you this morning?"

I step into the kitchen and find Luna already there, sitting at the table, munching on toast and sipping coffee. Southpaw is stretched out by her feet, and that crutch Luke carved for her is leaning against the table leg like a faithful guard.

"Fuck off, Toby."

I flash her my wickedest grin—the one that usually makes girls melt—but she doesn’t even flinch. Hmm. Rocky start. Still, faint heart never won fair lady. Time for round two.

"How’s the toast and… wait a second. Is that butter on your toast, young lady?"

She eyes me warily. "Well, what of it?"

"And… if I’m not mistaken, that’s milk in your coffee, right?"

She sighs like I’m dragging her through some grand inquisition. "Look, I got tired of dry toast and black coffee, okay? Is it my fault you Neanderthals don’t stock oat milk?"

I lift my hands in mock surrender. "No, no, of course not. In fact, good for you. What’s the point in beating yourself up over a little butter or milk? No one’s going to blame you for that, are they?"

She pauses, tilting her head at me like she’s weighing whether to trust me. Finally, she shrugs and—miracle of miracles—smiles.

"Thanks. No, no one’s going to blame me for that."

"So why not go all the way and enjoy a nice bowl of Cheerios, eh?"

She hesitates, caught between temptation and principle. Her posture is tense, but her eyes betray her.

"I’m having one," I coax. "Just a small bowl, just to keep me company. I promise not to tell anyone. Scout’s honor."

Her shoulders drop as she giggles. "Go on, then. Honestly, I love Cheerios. I eat them all the time. Not eating them has been torture this past week!"

"Bloody hell, Luna. The things you do for the cause."

We both crack up, and I grab two bowls from the cupboard. A few minutes later, we’ve finished, and I discreetly wash up both bowls, hiding all evidence of Luna’s shameful fall from Vegan High Priestess to Ordinary Cereal-Loving Mortal.

Once the dishes are stacked, I ease the conversation toward the real reason I wanted her alone.

"Say, Luna," I start, leaning casually against the counter. "You must be bored out of your mind by now. And your wrist’s better, and that ankle’s healing fast. I was thinking… would you like a tour around the estate this morning? I’ve got the day off, and I could show you some of our conservation work.

You might actually find it interesting. You’ll see how we tag rare species, how we manage the growth, and even some of the saplings we’ve been planting. What do you say?"

Her brows rise. "But I thought all the tracks were closed because of the storm damage."

"They were," I admit. "But Luke, Jack, and I have been working hard to clear them. The back track up into the forest wasn’t hit as badly anyway. I thought we’d take the ATV—you know, the quad bike. That thing can get anywhere."

She still looks uncertain, so I add lightly, "Promise I’ll bring you back the second your ankle starts to hurt."

"Really promise?"

"Of course, Scout's honor." I snap into a ridiculous scout salute.

That earns me another grin. "Fine. Give me… twenty minutes to get ready."

"Sure thing, Princess. Take your time."

"And my name’s Luna."

"Anything you say, Princess Luna."

She rolls her eyes, grabs her crutch, and stomps toward the hallway. Southpaw yawns, scratches, then pads after her with slow dignity. As he passes, the animal shoots me a glance—half warning, half cynical smirk.

It’s like he knows exactly what I’m planning.

Our Honda FourTrax quad bike is by far the most fun vehicle in the fleet.

It’s an ATV—All Terrain Vehicle—and it’ll go anywhere, no matter how steep, wet, or slippery the ground.

Basically, it’s a dirt bike with four wheels.

It steers like a motorcycle but has the stability of a truck, with racks front and back and a trailer hitch for hauling gear.

The massive knobby tires and high suspension will take you pretty much wherever you want to go.

While Luna’s inside getting ready, I back the FourTrax out of the barn, fill the tank, grab two helmets, and ride it around to the front yard so she doesn’t have far to hobble.

When she opens the door and sees me sitting on it, I can practically feel her hesitation.

“Don’t worry, it’s perfectly safe,” I call out.

“Yeah, it might be. What about you ?”

I laugh. “Me? Oh, I’m as safe as houses. Promise I’ll go real slow, no racing.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

“Well… okay then, I guess. How do I get on?”

“I’ve thought about that—what with your ankle and all. Hand me your crutch first.”

She passes it over, and I slide it under the elastic netting on the hood, snug and secure. “Good. Now give me your hand.”

She places her hand in mine, expecting me to help her climb up. Instead, I scoop her up in one smooth motion and set her down on the ATV, straddling the fuel tank like a startled doll, but facing backwards, not forwards. Just my little joke. I grin widely.

“Hey! What the f?—”

"Oops, sorry. Let's try that again. I pick her up, spin her deftly in my arms, and unceremoniously plonk her back down again onto the quad seat, only this time she's facing forward, her protest cut off by the sheer speed of my maneuver.

“There we go. All comfy? Good. Now put this on.” I hand her the smaller helmet. She glares at me like she’s promising vengeance, but she still puts it on.

Good girl.