Page 25 of Twins for the Mountain Daddies

"Lastly," Wyatt continues, "we can tease Hank only so much. He looks like he might actually go grizzly on us if we push him too far."

"Agreed. Hank's scary when he's broody.”

"All right then," Holt says and I feel the beginnings of a wild night tugging at the edges of my sanity. "Who's first?"

Chapter 11

Wyatt

Itip the bottle back, letting the burn of the whiskey slide down my throat. Beside me, Ivy does the same, a smile tugging at her lips that promises she's game for whatever this night throws her way. I'm grateful for that. I’ve been dying to get my hands on this girl.

"All right," Holt says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, "let’s start off easy. Ivy, I dare you to speak in a ridiculous accent for the next three rounds.”

Ivy arches a brow but doesn’t hesitate. She taps a finger against her chin, then launches into an exaggerated Cockney drawl. "You blokes ready for a bit of fun then, are ya?"

Holt lets out a bark of laughter and I nearly choke on the whiskey. “Jesus. That’s the worst thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Oi,” she shoots back, sticking her nose in the air. “You lot wouldn’t know posh if it slapped you across the face.”

I snort, tipping my bottle toward her. “Oi, watch it,” I tease, grinning. She sticks her tongue out at me, her eyes bright with amusement.

"Bloody hell," Holt drawls, shaking his head. "That’s awful. Painful, even."

Ivy gasps, clutching at her chest like he just mortally wounded her. “How dare you, mate? This is top-tier British, innit?”

Wyatt chuckles, shaking his head. "Oh yeah, pure Shakespeare."

Holt leans back against the couch, lips twitching. "More like a drunk tourist in a London pub."

Ivy narrows her eyes, but the corners of her mouth fight against a smile. "Fine, you ungrateful sods. Next dare, and it better be a good one."

She’s good at this, I think—maybe even a natural. The fake accent brings out a playful side of her. I’ve seen her guarded, wary. But this? This is the Ivy I want more of.

When it’s finally Ivy’s turn, she taps a finger against her lips, pretending to think. “All right, Holt. I dare you to give Wyatt your best pick-up lines—the cheesier, the better.”

Holt’s eyebrows shoot up and he chokes on a laugh. “Oh, you are evil.”

I chuckle, shaking my head. "Not happening."

Ivy grins, leaning in like she’s just set the perfect trap. "Oh, it’s happening. And you better commit, Holt. Get him all flustered and flattered."

Holt sighs, rolling his shoulders like he’s prepping for battle. "Fine. But if I’m doing this, I’m going all in."

"That’s the spirit," Ivy says, settling back with a smug little smirk.

Holt stretches his arms over his head like he’s preparing for battle, then cracks his knuckles. “All right, Wyatt, brace yourself. This is gonna be life-changing.”

I raise an eyebrow, taking a slow sip from the bottle. “Can’t wait.”

Ivy smirks, tucking her legs beneath her. “Make it good, Holt. I want to see Wyatt swoon.”

Holt clears his throat, then turns to me, dropping his voice to a low and sultry tone. “Are you French? Because Eiffel for you.”

I stare at him. “Jesus Christ.”

Ivy cackles, clutching her stomach. “That’s terrible.”

Holt grins, undeterred. He shifts closer, resting an elbow on his knee, eyes locked on mine like I’m the only person in the room. “Are you a magician? Because whenever I look at you, everyone else disappears.”

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