Page 25 of Eco-Activist’s Mountain Men (Mountain Men Reverse Harem #4)

They must hear my footsteps, because both Luna and Southpaw glance up at the same time. Luna’s face lights with a genuine smile—one of those rare smiles that reaches the eyes. My chest tightens.

“Hi, Eric,” she says warmly. “Been out murdering trees, I hear.”

I freeze. Whatever confidence her smile gave me vanishes in an instant.

“We were thinning,” I say quickly. “It… uh… encourages growth and prevents the spread of disease.”

As soon as the words leave my mouth, I cringe internally. I sound like I’m giving one of my driest lectures in one of my driest seminars.

Her laugh bubbles out—bright, musical, unforced.

“I’m so sorry, Eric. I was only teasing.”

“Oh. Right.” Relief floods me, and I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. My pulse steadies. For a second, I’d half expected her to launch into another fight—like the shouting match she’d had with Luke in the kitchen. We all remembered how that ended.

She pats the bench beside her. “Come join me. I’m bored. I could use some company.”

“Sure.” I don’t need to be asked twice. I cross the yard and take the spot next to her, suddenly very aware of the memory that flashes through me in Technicolor—the taste of her lips, the warmth of her body, the way her skin had felt against mine that night.

My heart lurches, and I force myself to focus.

“You’re way too easy to wind up, Eric,” she says, her grin playful but kind. “I don’t mind about the trees.”

I nod mutely, still trying to get my libido back under control.

“But that’s part of your charm, I guess… your vulnerability.” Her gaze lingers, softer now. “And you are very charming, Eric.”

Her smile hits me again, straight from the eyes, and I’m helpless against it.

“Funny thing is,” she continues, “a few weeks ago I would’ve minded. Before I ended up stuck out here with you guys, I mean. I’d have called you a tree murderer and lectured you about how logging was destroying the planet.”

“I see.”

She turns to me, her small hand settling gently on my arm. The warmth of her touch nearly short-circuits my brain.

“But now…” She trails off, her thumb absently brushing my sleeve.

“Now what?”

“Now… oh, I don’t know.” She exhales, looking out across the yard. “Everything’s turned upside down. You guys—you’ve all challenged the way I see the world. Made me realize I was way too simplistic. Too black-and-white. But the world isn’t like that, is it? Not at all.”

I nod. If there’s one thing I know, it’s that nothing in life is simple.

“I know I’ve avoided you since that night,” she adds suddenly. “That was me hiding.”

I blink. “Hiding?”

“Yes. From you.” She looks at me straight on, and I see the flicker of guilt in her eyes.

“Not because I didn’t like you. Because I was confused.

I am confused. Honestly, I don’t know what’s happening to me.

I’m falling for all of you while rewriting everything I used to believe.

I don’t know if I’m coming or going anymore.

” She shakes her head. “I feel so… up in the air. And I don’t know how to come back down. ”

I slide my hand over hers and give a gentle squeeze. “I think I understand. Believe it or not, I’ve been going through something similar.”

Her brows lift. “Really? How so?”

“Well… all these years I’ve buried myself in study.

And yes, I’ve done well. My thesis will get published in a decent journal, and on paper, I’ll have ‘made it.’ One of the faces that fits in academia.

But lately I keep asking myself—do I really want that life?

Or is there something more? Something that actually matters. That’s why I came here.”

“I see.” She tilts her head, squinting against the sunlight. A breeze drifts over, lifting strands of her pink hair until it frames her face in a halo of gold. For a moment, she looks unearthly, like some kind of woodland spirit.

“Isn’t it funny,” she murmurs, “how you can look at someone else—someone you think you’ve got pegged—and assume they’ve got everything figured out. But when you get closer, you find out they’re just like you. Wrestling with the same doubts.”

Her fingers toy absently with my arm, and my skin tingles beneath her touch.

I smile. “Yeah. I always thought you were completely sure of yourself. Like nothing ever fazed you.”

She looks startled. “Really? You thought that?”

“Totally. I mean, look at what you did—coming out here, climbing that walkway to hang your banner. That must’ve taken a lot of commitment.”

Her mouth quirks into a wry smile. “Then yes, I must’ve been absolutely certain. But now…”

Another breeze sweeps across the yard, cooler this time, carrying the faint metallic smell of rain.

“What now?” I ask.

“Now… I’m not so sure. Or maybe I’m more sure—just in a different way.” She laughs softly. “I’m sure the answers are more complicated than I ever wanted to admit. But I’m less sure what the right thing actually is. Does that make sense?”

“Totally. Life’s complicated. The Earth’s ecosystem is complicated. Climate change is complicated. Anyone who claims they’ve got it all figured out is… well, probably delusional.”

She laughs, bright and unguarded. “You mean like the members of Kill Climate Change?”

I chuckle back. “Well… maybe.”

She swats my arm lightly. “Naughty boy, Eric. But yeah—that’s the same conclusion I’ve been coming to. Trouble is, that’s where all my friends are. Very soon I’ll have to decide what I want… but not now.”

The first drops of rain spatter against my skin. Luna tilts her face skyward, squinting at the gray clouds.

“It’s starting to rain,” she says.

I nod, pulse thudding in my ears. “Want to come to my room? We can keep talking there.”

We lie together on her bed, side by side.

The warmth of her body pressed against mine feels strangely comforting, like something I’ve been missing without realizing it.

She leans her head on my shoulder in a companionable way, and for a moment, I let myself believe this could be the start of something real. Something lasting.

“How are you feeling?” she asks softly.

“In truth? I ache like hell after holding that goddamned chainsaw all afternoon. Jeez, it weighs a ton.”

She chuckles. “I took a massage course back in college. Just an evening class, but it was really good. Fancy a massage?”

I glance at her, my pulse quickening. “I’d love one, Luna… if you’re sure?”

I’m excited—nervous too—but mostly excited. Already tingling at the thought of her hands on my bare skin. God, I just hope I don’t embarrass myself by reacting too much.

“Of course I’m sure,” she says brightly. “It’ll be fun.” She bounces off the bed, suddenly full of energy. “Okay! We need towels and oil. Towels are in the bathroom—you get those. Grab three.”

By the time I return, she’s already rummaging through her things. I step inside—and freeze.

She’s down to her underwear.

She catches my look and smiles mischievously. “Didn’t want to get oil on my clothes,” she says. “And I found this—Johnson’s Baby Oil. Says it’s gentle and soothing for your baby’s sensitive skin.” She gives me a wink. “Perfect.”

Then she tilts her head, teasing. “Come on, baby. Get your clothes off.”

“What, here?”

“Yes, of course, here.”

“What… everything?”

She grins. “Yes, everything. I can’t exactly massage you through your clothes, can I? And anyway, I won’t be seeing anything I haven’t already seen before.” She pats the bed. “Come on, give me those towels. Now, strip.”

I do as I’m told, while she strips back the sheets and lays the largest towel across the undersheet.

“Okay, lie on your tummy. I’m starting with your back.”

Once she’s positioned me, she dribbles baby oil into her palm, rubs her hands together, and then smooths them firmly up my spine, spreading outward across my shoulders before sliding back down. Her touch is warm, confident, and practiced.

She focuses first on my left side, long sweeping strokes up my back to my neck, then plunging down across my hip, thigh, calf, and finally the sole of my foot. Over and over, until every knot loosens. Then she shifts to my right side, repeating the rhythm, coaxing the ache from my muscles.

Slowly, my back and shoulders begin to melt under her clever hands. The ache dissolves into something hazy, floaty, almost hypnotic. Every stroke carries more meaning than the last. I drift, weightless, into a warm haze.

At some point, I must have fallen asleep.

The next thing I know, there’s a gentle weight pressing on me—not uncomfortable, just… present. I blink an eye open.

“Shh,” comes Luna’s whisper, soft and close. “It’s only me.”

She’s lying on top of me now, warm and naked, her cheek resting against my shoulder. One arm drapes across my side. She traces my eyebrow with her fingertip, memorizing me by touch.

“Do you love me?” she whispers.

“Huh?”

“I said, Do you love me?”

The question stuns me. I pause, trying to answer honestly.

“I… I think so. I’m not sure. I know I care about you.

A lot. I think about you constantly, and I want you—that part goes without saying.

But even beyond that, it’s still early days.

I guess I’d say I love what I already know about you.

I want to know more. I want to see if we’re…

compatible.” I swallow. “What about you? Do you… Love me?”

She exhales slowly, her fingers twisting strands of my hair as if she’s nervous.

“Well?” I prompt.

“Yes,” she says finally. “I love you.”

My heart leaps. For one reckless, dizzy moment, I start to imagine a future—her by my side, the rest of my life finally making sense.

Then she adds quietly, “But it’s more complicated than that.”

Of course it is. For me, things never stay simple.

“Why? Why can’t it just be simple?”

“Because…” She falters.

“Luna?”

“It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s kind of the opposite.” She lifts her head, searching my eyes. “The problem is… you’re not the only one I love.”

My stomach sinks. “What do you mean?”

She hesitates. Then: “Let me ask you something. If you really love me… could you share me? Or would it have to be exclusive?”

The question knocks the wind out of me. “I… I don’t know.”

“Honest answer.”

“Yeah. I mean—I’ve never really thought about it. Never had to. I guess it depends on the situation. On how it works. Is that… is that what you want?”

She sighs. “Honestly, Eric? I’m confused as hell. I thought I knew who I was. But lately… I don’t know anymore.”

Then she giggles softly and rolls herself more fully onto me.

“But let’s forget about all that,” she whispers. “While I’ve got you here, I might as well make good use of you.”

Her hand slides lower, and my body responds instantly.

“Well, well,” she murmurs. “What have we got here, big boy?”

She giggles again, then kisses me—slow, sensual, lingering. Her mouth tastes faintly of peppermint and something sweeter, something entirely her.

I cup her hip, pulling her closer, and she shifts until our bodies align. Skin on skin.

We don’t speak. We don’t need to. Her eyes stay open, searching mine, and I let her see everything: my hunger, my uncertainty, my hope.

She moves against me gently, confidently, and I match her rhythm.

It’s not frantic, not cinematic. It’s careful.

Intimate. Like we’re discovering something fragile together, and neither of us dares to break it.

My heart races—not just from arousal but from this raw closeness, this unfiltered connection. It almost overwhelms me.

She laces her fingers with mine and presses her forehead to mine. “You’re so sweet, Eric,” she whispers.

I close my eyes and let everything else fall away. Her breath, her touch, the slow warmth building between us—it’s enough.

And in that moment, it doesn’t matter that she’s confused.

It doesn’t matter that she loves others, too.

All that matters is that right now, she’s here. And so am I.