Page 70 of Twins for the Mountain Daddies

I look at Wyatt, and he takes his turn, knocking more gently but with the same desperation. “Come on, City Girl. Let us in. We just want to talk.”

I press my ear to the door, hoping to hear something, anything that means she’s listening. All I hear is the muffled bassline of her playlist, some angry pop star screaming about betrayal.

“Ivy, please,” I call, my voice cracking like I’m some twelve-year-old boy. “Don’t do this.Please, baby. Please. Just open the door. We just want to talk to you. I’m not going anywhere until I see your face.”

The music stops. Silence. My heart is beating so hard I’m sure she can hear it through the door. Then, footsteps. A pause. The click of the lock.

She opens the door just wide enough for me to see her eyes, wide and whiskey-brown, rimmed with red like she’s been crying.

“Can we come in?” I ask, trying to keep the pleading out of my voice and failing miserably.

She hesitates, then pulls the door open the rest of the way. I’m relieved, but when I see the half-packed suitcase on the bed, my stomach drops.

“Seriously?” Wyatt says, stepping inside. “You were really going to just leave?”

Ivy crosses her arms defensively. “What was I supposed to do? Stick around while you all try to figure out who knocked me up? Figure out who Ibaby-trapped?”

“Nobody thinks that, sweetheart.” Wyatt says.

Ivy shoots him a look that could freeze a wildfire in its tracks. He flinches just a little, but then he shrugs, looking sheepish.

“Okay, okay,” he starts, holding up both hands in mock surrender. “Hank said that, but he didn’tmeanit. What he said was horrible, and I know he’s sorry.”

“We’re not going anywhere,” I say, moving closer to her. “And neither are you.”

She looks at me, then at Wyatt, her lip trembling. “You don’t have to do this. I know it’s a lot. I know I’m a lot.”

Wyatt shakes his head, his voice softening. “Don’t you get it? We want you to be a lot. We like you that way.”

Ivy sits on the edge of the bed, her shoulders slumping. She looks so small and defeated, and I hate that we’ve made her feel like this.

I kneel in front of her, taking her hands. “We’re scared, too. I’m scared shitless. But I’m more scared of losing you than I am of being a dad.”

Wyatt sits next to her, wrapping an arm around her waist. “We’ll figure it out. All of it. Together. Whatever ‘it’ is, okay?”

She looks between us, her eyes glassy. “What if it’s too complicated? What if you change your minds?”

I tighten my grip on her hands. “We won’t. We’re not those kinds of guys.”

Her chin quivers, and I can see the exact moment she starts to believe us. Her shoulders relax, and she leans into Wyatt, resting her head on his shoulder.

“At least stay the night. We can talk things through in the morning. Please, baby.”

“Okay,” she whispers. “Okay.”

I take the suitcase and toss it in the corner, where it belongs. “You know you’re stuck with us, right?”

A small smile tugs at her lips.

Wyatt kisses the top of her head, and I wrap my arms around her, holding on because if I let go, she might disappear.

“Thank God,” I breathe, feeling some of the tension leave my body. I’ll never admit it, but my eyes might be a little glassy, too.

She wipes her eyes with the back of her hand, and I feel like I can finally breathe again.

“Come on,” Wyatt says, standing and pulling her up with him. “Let’s get some sleep. We’ve got a long nine months ahead of us.”

Ivy laughs, and it’s the best sound in the world. I know we’re not out of the woods yet, but at least we’re headed in the right direction. Together.

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