Page 77 of Twins for the Mountain Daddies

“Dad!” Lily protests, but she’s smiling, and I can’t help but smile back.

“Are you sure?” I ask, my voice small and uncertain.

“Positive,” Mason says, giving me a reassuring nod.

“Okay,” I agree, feeling both relieved and anxious about spending another night in town. At least it’s not at the cabin. “Thank you.”

Lily beams at me, her enthusiasm almost enough to make me forget the heartache that's still bubbling up inside. I try to smile back, but I’m not sure it works. Everything in me aches—the weight of the last few hours, the sting of Hank’s words, and that hollow feeling that I can’t shake.

"Come on," Lily says, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "It’ll be fun! You’ll like it.”

“Do you need a hand with your stuff?” Mason asks, nodding to my bags.

“I’ve got it,” I say, pulling the suitcase along with a little more force than necessary. I don’t want to burden anyone, not when I already feel like I’m dragging my feet through molasses.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Lily and I can at least get one or two bags each. You’ve got…quite a few.”

“I did overpack a little.” I shrug sheepishly.

Lily links her arm through mine as we walk, chattering on about something, anything, to fill the silence. I let her words wash over me, grateful for the noise, the normalcy, even if it’s a far cry from the storm in my head.

This time tomorrow I’ll be back to the real world. And then I’m finding a way out of that life for good.

Chapter 37

Holt

Hank is stomping around like a fucking bear with a sore paw, and I’m about ready to lose it. Wyatt’s still gone…Ivy’s still gone.

So, Hank’s mood is pissing me right the fuck off. He had no right to do that to her. So, she had a past she was running from. Why the fuck else would someone who looks like her and dresses like her be trying to rent a cabin all the way out in the middle of nowhere?

I remember when she first showed up, looking like a beachgoer lost in a sea of flannel and denim. She was dressed in designer clothes from head to toe and looked like a fish so far out of water that she may as well have been trying to swim in space.

It was obvious she was trying to escape something. I got it from the start, so why can’t Hank see it? I’m ready to shake some sense into him, but I know better than to poke a bear.

Instead, I watch him sulk and think about the videos he found. The ones he downloaded in town, like some kind of fucking PI. I saw them. Photos, too. They don’t paint a pretty picture, no. But, not once in the months Ivy’s been here have I ever seen her act anything like that.

Even when we played that drinking game she never acted like that.

I know what she’s supposed to be. A ditzy, scandalous party girl. I saw the headlines, the gossip. But that’s not her. Not the real her. We had no idea who she was, so she had no part to play. Those videos are just that. I know because I’ve seen the real Ivy. I’m in love with the real Ivy. She’s the mother of my child—well, maybe Wyatt’s, but who cares? I love her. I love her, and Hank’s ruining everything.

Hank makes another pass through the cabin, his boots heavy on the floorboards. My jaw clenches so hard I’m surprised I don’t crack a tooth. He’s pushing her away. I can’t stand it. I can’t stand him. I can’t stand the thought of losing her. I’m going to make him admit he’s making a mistake, even if I have to beat it out of him.

“You’re an asshole,” I tell him. “You know that, right?”

Hank just grunts like a fucking caveman and keeps right on with the pacing. I step closer, a fire building in my chest. My hands are itching to grab him by the collar and make him look me in the eye, but I keep it together. Barely.

“You don’t get it, do you, Hank?” I push out the words through gritted teeth, keeping my voice low but dangerous. “You’re not just pushing Ivy away. You’re fucking up everything.”

Hank stops mid-step, turning slowly to face me. His eyes are stormy, anger flashing, but there’s something else behind it—regret? Maybe even guilt. But it doesn’t matter. It’s too late for him to fix it now.

“You think I’m just gonna let her go?” I take another step forward, making sure my voice cuts through the tension like a blade. “You think you’re gonna drive her off and I’m just gonna nod along? Hell no, Hank. You messed up. Big time.”

His jaw tightens, and for a second, I think he’s going to lash out, but instead, he shoves a hand through his hair, letting out a frustrated growl. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen,” he mutters, his voice tight, rough. “But it’s not just about her past. It’s about trust.”

“Trust?” I repeat, almost laughing. “You think she’s gonna trust you after you just ripped into her like that? You think you’re helping her? All you did was confirm every damn thing she’s been running from.”

He doesn’t answer right away, just glances away, like he’s trying to process the words, but I can see it in his eyes—he’s not seeing it. Not really.

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