Page 61 of Twins for the Mountain Daddies

Wyatt’s already out, handling something on the property. That man never stops. None of us do. Even snowed in, there’s always work to be done. More, even.

The sound of a door opening makes me glance over. I’m hoping for Ivy, but I’m sorely disappointed when a big, gruff bear-man exits his room. His hair’s an absolute mess. And, despite knowing Ivy is still somewhere in this house, he’s only wearing a pair of gray boxer briefs.

She didn’t come to bed last night. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what happened.

I throw the eggs into the pan with a sizzle that cuts through the silence. It should bother me. I know it should. Hank’s mybest friend, my cousin, my damn brother in every sense that counts. And Ivy… Well, she’s not just some random girl I picked up at a bar, or someone I’d fuck once and forget about. No, she’s different.

I mean, I’ve shared before. I’ve had my fun. A one-night thing, no strings attached. It was just bodies and release. Hell, I don’t even bother with names half the time. But this isn’t that. She isn’t that.

Ivy isn’t just another face to pass the time with. No, I can’t shake this feeling that she’s…mine. But not just mine.

I don’t care that she’s with Wyatt and Hank, too. Seeing her lost in pleasure, drowning in it, makes my pulse quicken. There’s something almost…intimate about sharing her with the people who matter most to me. We’re not just sharing her body; it’s so much deeper than that.

Shit. When the hell did I get all mushy and serious?

I shake my head, cracking another egg into the bowl. Focus. Keep it together, Holt.

“Morning,” Hank says, his voice too casual. I glance at him, and his eyes flicker toward me before dropping to the ground like he’s trying to avoid the obvious tension.

"Morning," I quip back, cracking another egg. "You sleep well?"

He grunts and heads straight for the coffee. Classic Hank—acting like he doesn’t care when it’s written all over him. He’s trying to play it cool, but I’m not buying it. Not for a second.

No, he wants her just as badly as I do. It’s crazy how much I want her. And it’s even crazier how much I want him to want her too.

Fucking hell.

Hank grabs a plate and sits down, not meeting my eyes. Yeah, I’m not letting him get away with this shit.

I lean against the counter, flipping the eggs. “So, you finally gave in, huh?”

He looks over, gray eyes sharp. “To what?”

I snort. “Don’t play dumb.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Holt.”

“Really? Because my girl didn’t come to bed last night. And I heard some pretty interesting sounds coming from your room.”

Hank takes a slow sip of coffee, pretending like he’s not affected. He is. And it’s driving him insane.

I let the silence stretch, waiting him out.

“Not a big deal,” he mutters eventually.

I laugh. “Right. Not a big deal.”

Hank watches me like he’s waiting for me to lose my shit.

“You mad?” he finally asks.

“Why would I be?” I slide the eggs onto a plate. “Wyatt and I have been trying to tempt you for weeks.”

I’m flipping the eggs onto the plate, trying to distract myself. This whole situation has got me all twisted up. Then finally—finally!—the door creaks open, and there she is. My Ivy.

“Morning,” she says, voice a little off, without the usual playful tone she always carries.

“Morning,” I reply, but my voice sounds different too, a little tight, a little unsure.

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