Page 30 of Twins for the Mountain Daddies

And then she screams, not a sound of fear, but one of pure, unbridled ecstasy. It rips through me, tearing down every last bit of restraint I have left. My body tenses, every muscle coiled tight as a drum.

"Fuck," I grunt, the word barely more than a breath as I come undone. Heat erupts from me, coating my skin, sticky and hot. I shudder, each pulse like a shot of electricity, grounding me back to this solitary room, to the cold reality that isn't her.

"Can't let this happen again," I whisper to the empty space, knowing I'm lying to myself. But for now, for tonight, I'll pretend that I mean it.

Chapter 13

Ivy

Aknock jolts me from sleep. I blink into the dim light of morning, my heart a beat behind my awareness. I pull the covers tighter around me, the chill of the room seeping through me. Another knock, firm but not urgent.

What the hell time is it?

"Morning, Ivy," Wyatt's voice carries through the wood, deep and steady. "Road's clear. We can check on your car now."

A strange mix of relief and dread coils in my stomach. Relief because being stranded was never the plan. Because now I can get my car, get back to…what, exactly? My old life? The one I ran from?

And dread because the moment those roads opened up, so did the door to everything I’d been avoiding. The cameras. The headlines. The world that chewed me up and spit me out.

I swallow hard, forcing my hands to stay steady as I pull on my clothes. Maybe I’m not ready to leave just yet.

"Give me a minute," I call out, untangling myself from the sheets. My feet hit the cold floor, and I shiver as I stand.

I dig through my bags, shoving aside silk blouses, tailored trousers, designer sweaters that suddenly feel like they belong tosomeone else. Nothing feels right. Nothing fits the version of me that’s been waking up in this cabin.

I hesitate, fingers brushing over a slinky dress. What the hell was I thinking? The idea of strutting into town in outfits curated for paparazzi shots makes my skin itch. But then I think about the cameras—the ones that always seem to find me, even when I don’t want to be found. About the way people pick apart every outfit, every choice, every perceived misstep.

My chest tightens. It doesn’t matter if I’m in the mountains or the city—eyes are always watching.

So, I do what I always do. I armor up.

The mirror catches my image as I dress. A fitted cream turtleneck sweater hugs my curves, paired with black leggings. I slip into fur-lined boots, laces snug against my ankles. The aviator jacket goes over, taupe and plush. I'm dressed to move, but still…me. Or at least, the version of me the world expects to see.

Stepping into the kitchen, I find Wyatt. He leans against the counter, casual as ever in flannel and worn-in jeans. His eyes flick over me, a pause in his easy charm.

"You look..." He trails off, a half-smile playing on his lips.

"Out of place?" I venture, tugging at the jacket's edge.

"Like you're about to hike a runway, not a mountain." There's a teasing note in his tone, but it’s not unkind.

I laugh, short and a bit too loud. "That bad, huh?"

"Not bad, just..." He tilts his head, considering. "Different."

Different. Not a city skyline, but a mountain range. Not high heels, but boots meant for snow. I'm here, aren't I? Trying.

Holt turns from the counter, his smile wide and bright as the winter sun.

"Thought you might need this," he says, pressing a steaming travel cup into my hands. The scent of strong coffee pulls me closer to wakefulness. Before I can thank him, he leans in, hislips brushing mine with a practiced ease that leaves an echo of warmth lingering on my skin.

"Good luck in town," he murmurs, and then he's gone, leaving me with a caffeinated buzz and a whole lot of confusion.

"Let's go see about that car," Wyatt says, and I nod, following him out into the crisp morning air, where the world is wide and waiting.

Wyatt's truck growls to life as I approach, its engine breaking the mountain’s silence. I climb inside, tucking the coffee between my knees. He glances at me while shifting gears, the truck lurching forward down the winding road.

We're silent as trees blur past us, the world shedding its coat of white as we descend. It feels like leaving another life behind, one where time doesn't press quite so heavily. One where there aren’t eyes following me everywhere I go. One where I don’t have to play a part that’s never fit right.

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