Page 26 of Eco-Activist’s Mountain Men (Mountain Men Reverse Harem #4)

Luna

I watch Southpaw as he casually gets up from his comfortable, curled-up position on my bed, gives me a supercilious stare for a moment, yawns unnecessarily loudly, and then stretches—first his front legs, then his back legs—before settling himself back down on his other side and closing his eyes again.

Seems clear to me that this particular wolf knows only too well he’s onto a good thing here at the logging camp. Not only does he have a whole selection of warm, comfortable beds to sleep on, but he also gets two meals a day, quite literally handed to him on a plate.

“Yeah, right, you scraggy mutt,” I sneer at him.

“Typical bourgeoisie, living off the sweat of the workers, but never actually lifting a claw to do any of the manual work yourself.” But Southpaw just ignores me, choosing not to dignify me with a response, it seems. “Well, your time will come, don’t you worry,” I mutter, half under my breath.

In return, I get what I can only describe as a snigger.

I turn my back to the moth-eaten animal, brushing my damp hair with a hairbrush that, thankfully, some previous occupant had left behind. I loosen my towel and step into my freshly washed panties.

Thank God I’d had that spare pair in my backpack.

I’ve made do with oversized borrowed T-shirts, socks, and hoodies from the guys.

Their pants were all ridiculous on me, so I’ve stuck to my combats, and it’s the same with their boxers—though frankly I didn’t really fancy going around in hand-me-down underwear anyway.

Of course, none of the men are even close to my shoe size.

That means I’m limited to just my hiking boots for outside.

For inside, I’ve borrowed a pair of Toby’s old slippers that I can just about shuffle around in without tripping ass-over-tits everywhere, if I’m careful.

Thankfully, it’s all on one floor, because I don’t think I’d risk stairs in them.

For me, bras are not an issue, even though I only have the one I was wearing when I arrived.

I’m not over-blessed in the boobs department, so it simply doesn’t really matter too much if I go without for a few days.

Except, of course, for the looks on the men’s faces if I’m out in just my T-shirt and it rains.

That’s simple to deal with, though. I just stare right back until they blush and look away.

Well… all except Toby. He just widens his grin and gives me one of his lascivious winks, the pervert. Not that I mind, if I’m truly honest.

And that’s kinda the problem.

It’s a problem I’ve been putting off for too long, but this morning I’m going to face it head-on.

I can’t wait any longer. I have Luke hating my guts and wishing me elsewhere.

I’ve got Eric in love with me. I’ve slept with the brothers Jack and Toby, and it changed my life.

To cap it all, I have the leader of the eco-activist group I pledged my support to asking me to repeat my mission in a few days’ time, so he can come along with his film crew in his helicopter and film it.

The cell phones are still off, and the local radio station is saying they’re not expecting all the towers back up for at least another week, if not longer.

This means I can’t talk to Kill Climate Change’s leader, Tim.

It also means I can’t WhatsApp any of my friends to talk things through and ask for advice.

Honestly, I’ve never felt so alone in my life.

But that’s not true either—because if I’m really honest, I’d say I’ve never felt so loved, welcomed, and supported in my life.

Even Luke, in his way, has been nothing but helpful.

It was he who rescued me the first time, in the storm.

It was he who washed my wounds and bandaged my sprained ankle.

It was he who went out to search for my backpack and got me back my phone and my wallet.

He even made me my crutch, though I don’t really need it anymore, thank Christ. Of course, it was he who—with Jack—went up the mountain to look for me and carried me in his arms, all the way back down again after I’d hit my head and knocked myself out.

So no, not alone. Just… confused.

So… the big question. How do I feel about everything?

No hiding. No lying. I need to have a grown-up conversation with myself, so I can work out what to do.

Well… how do I feel?

First things first. Kill Climate Change. How do I feel about that, now I’ve been here just a little short of two weeks, sleeping with the enemy, as it were?

Well, in truth, I now see things vastly differently than before I came here.

My understanding has evolved. If I’m honest, I’ve completely changed my mind on some things, and on others…

well, let’s just say I’m now seeing shades of gray where previously I could only distinguish black or white.

Most importantly, I no longer consider McKenzie Forestry Services to be “the enemy.” In fact, quite the opposite.

I consider ethical, law-abiding forestry companies like them to be part of the hard-working backbone of American industry that has made America what it is today.

In fact, if there were more companies like this, the world would be better off.

The number of young trees they plant each year is just amazing.

The pride they take in carefully harvesting timber only from replaceable resources, and the effort they make to help people like Eric from Oregon State University to identify, manage, and protect endangered species…

It’s impressive. It should be applauded, not vilified.

So, if that’s the case, can I, in all conscience, continue to play an active part in Tim’s plan to discredit them through our banner campaign in about a week’s time?

Put like that, the answer is clear. I cannot do it. Not with a clear conscience.

That means letting Tim down. Letting the whole team down.

Well… is that such a bad thing?

I mean, look at Randy, and how he left me stuck in Portland to continue the mission on my own—because of his hamster, for fuck’s sake.

As for Tim… he hasn’t shown a moment’s concern for my welfare after the “storm of the century,” which he must have known was hitting right about the time I was on that walkway, trying to secure the banner.

He knew Randy had cried off and hadn’t warned me in advance.

Oh no—he’d waited to tell me that piece of news afterward, hadn’t he?

So, no. I don’t think I need to beat myself up about disloyalty.

Okay. Good. That’s one thing settled.

I feel a huge sense of relief, as a psychological weight that I must have been carrying for quite a while suddenly lifts off my shoulders. I realize just how tense I’ve been. Just how much stress I’ve been carrying around because of this upcoming banner event I’d been roped—hahaha—into.

It feels good to have made the decision not to go ahead with it.

And that means I can now tell the guys, too.

Including Luke.

Hopefully, that will go some way toward helping him see I’m not the complete asshole he seems to have me down as.

Maybe.

He’s not the type to be easily swayed. Actually, that’s something I admire about the man, albeit grudgingly. He might be a complete asshole with his whole “I know better than you” attitude, but at least he’s honest about his opinions. At least he cares about the world.

Not to mention those muscles… and the size of his hands.

I can’t help wondering about the size of his…

you-know-what. I bet it’s huge. I wonder what it would feel like.

I’m only small. Would he be too big for me?

Despite what men think, size really isn’t the most important thing.

But with a man like that, a girl cannot help herself from wondering what it would be like…

No. I mustn’t allow myself to get distracted.

I still have a bigger problem to face.

All these men around me. Somehow, I seem to have managed to sleep with three out of the four of them, and now I’m starting to have erotic thoughts about the fourth.

This is very worrying. Am I a slut?

I’ve never thought of myself that way. I mean, sure, I’ve had several sexual partners before now—maybe a dozen, all told. But looking back, I was never what I would describe as easy. I was never the girl that others would nod to behind her back and point out as being some kind of good-time girl.

So, what’s got into me?

The only thing I can think of is the refreshing contrast I’ve been experiencing between these hulking mountain men up here and the soft, flabby college kids and activists I’ve been mingling with previously.

It’s like chalk and cheese. Sure, I’m happy not to eat meat, and I’ll even try to remember someone’s pronoun preferences if that’s what makes them happy.

But honestly, when it comes to choosing a lover, give me a real man any day.

Even Eric, in his own way. He’s genuine.

He’s a true academic, actually breaking new ground with his studies.

Sensitive, awkward, a little too earnest sometimes—but at least he’s doing something useful.

He’s not just shouting about what other people are doing.

He cares, even if he doesn’t always know how to show it.

So… do I actually love these mountain men?

Or is it just lust?

Or perhaps some kind of rebound—after spending so much time surrounded by soy boys on campus and the armchair warriors of Kill Climate Change?

I don’t think so.

I think it’s me finally finding what I really want. I’m learning. I’m maturing. I’m proactively choosing. No one is forcing me.

I want to make love to these guys.

All of them.

Jack, with his authority and leadership, shoulders responsibility even when it breaks him.

Toby, with that endless grin, all mischief and charm on the surface, but underneath—when you see past the bravado—something softer, steadier, and surprisingly tender.

Luke, wary and hard to reach, but when he moves, when he acts, it’s with a kind of power that leaves no doubt he means every single thing he does.

And Eric—sweet, sensitive Eric—who sees me like no one else has ever seen me. Who trembles at the edges of passion but still dives in anyway.

A girl can’t always get what she wants when she wants it.

But at least I know what I want. And right now, the mature thing to do—the right thing to do—is to go find Luke, thank him for rescuing me—twice—and reassure him that I won’t be involving myself in any activities that might harm his precious McKenzie Forestry Services.

“Hey, Lazy Bones.” I call across to the wolf, who opens one laconic eye in response to my voice. “Wanna come find Luke with me?”

And just like that, Southpaw’s on his feet, tongue lolling out, tail wagging, two bright eyes fixed on mine. Good. Finally, the damned animal might actually prove useful.

“Come on then, you useless great lump, find Luke for me. Where’s Luke?”

Southpaw lets out a whine and scratches at the door.

“Wanna go out, huh? Well, yes, I agree—he certainly isn’t in here. Okay, okay, learn some fucking patience, I’m getting it, aren’t I?”

I push myself off the bed, wincing only slightly as my almost-recovered ankle takes the strain, and turn the door handle.

“Go on then, you ugly mutt. You lead, I’ll follow.”