Page 75 of Twins for the Mountain Daddies

But they’re not listening. They’re back to looking through the evidence that Hank has gathered. I hear one of them say the word “fiancé” and I’m done. I stand and walk to my room, forcing myself to keep it together until I’m out of sight.

The door clicks shut behind me, and I lean against it, breathing hard. The room is just as I left it, my half-packed suitcase open on the floor. I stare at it for a moment, then start shoving clothes in, not caring about the mess, not caring about anything except getting out of here.

I can still hear them talking in the living room, low voices that I can’t quite make out. Maybe it’s better that way. I don’t want to know how little they think of me now.

I zip up the suitcase with a vicious yank, then grab my other bags, dragging them out with more force than necessary. They’re all standing there when I reappear, looking like a jury that’s already made up its mind.

"You want me gone?" I say, my voice loud and brittle in the quiet cabin. "Fine. I’m gone. But one of you is driving me down, or I’m taking one of your trucks and doing it myself."

Wyatt steps forward. "Ivy, wait," he says, but I shake my head, cutting him off.

"No," I snap. "I’m not waiting around for you to decide if I’m worth it. I’m done."

Holt looks like he needs to speak but the words don’t come. Maybe they never will.

"Give me the keys," I demand, holding out my hand. It’s shaking, but I ignore it. I ignore everything except the need to get out of here before I break completely.

Hank finally moves, reaching into his pocket and tossing me the keys. I catch them, barely, and turn without another word, leaving them all behind.

It’s not until I’m outside, the cold biting through my clothes, that I realize I’m crying.

“Wait!” Wyatt calls from the porch.

I turn, hope blooming in my chest. He takes a few steps toward me, hesitates, and then says, “I’ll take you.”

The words hit me like a slap, the meaning behind them sinking in so fast that it feels like my world’s been pulled out from under me.

“I’ll take you,” he repeats, but his voice is too quiet now, too unsure.

And that’s it. That’s the moment my heart splinters.

Chapter 36

Ivy

Wyatt pulls up to the mechanic’s garage, and I’m out of the truck before he can say a damn word. Not that I’m mad at him—I’m not. But I can’t handle another awkward conversation, another disappointment, another blow to my heart. It’s too fragile.

“Hey, City Girl, wait a sec,” Wyatt calls as I fling open the door.

I pretend I don’t hear him. This is the best strategy I’ve come up with in fifteen minutes of silent brooding—get out fast, keep my head down, and avoid any more drama.

I make a beeline for the back of the truck and start pulling at my suitcases. Wyatt’s there in a flash, his big hands taking over, treating me as the helpless damsel. “Seriously, I got it,” he says with that easygoing smile that makes my stomach flip. It looks strained. That makes two of us.

“Thanks,” I mumble, grabbing the handle of one suitcase.

He looks like he’s about to say something else, but I cut him off with a quick, “See ya.” It’s better this way. No goodbyes. No chance for him to see just how messed up I feel.

I wheel my suitcases toward the garage, feeling his eyes on me the whole time. My heart’s pounding, and I tell myself it’sbecause of the awkwardness, not because of Wyatt or Holt or Hank, or the way they’ve gotten under my skin over the last few months.

I just need to get inside, get my car, and get the hell out of here.

Mason looks up from under the hood of a truck as I roll in. He wipes his hands on a rag, giving me a friendly smile. “Hey there, Ivy. Didn’t expect to see you so soon.”

“Hi, Mason,” I say, trying to sound casual, like I’m not about to have a total meltdown. “I came to see if my car’s ready.”

He nods, tossing the rag onto a workbench.

“Almost. Couple more days and it will be good as new.”

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