Page 86 of Twins for the Mountain Daddies

But even then, even in the haze of whiskey and regret, I can’t get her out of my head.

Ivy.

Chapter 41

Ivy

Wyatt’s arm is slung over my hip, and he’s snoring like a chainsaw. I can feel the vibration through his chest, and it’s a miracle I’ve gotten any sleep at all, considering. Holt is starfished on the floor, one arm still reaching for me. I smile at the two of them, all rumpled and peaceful. I don’t want to wake them, but I can’t help it.

I have to pee and I have no idea where the bathroom is.

So, I reach over and poke Wyatt in the ribs.

“Mornin’, City Girl,” he mumbles, eyes still closed. “Goin’ somewhere?”

“The bathroom. Hopefully.”

Holt stirs on the floor, a sleepy grin spreading across his face. “She’s still here? Damn. Thought we scared her off.”

“Not yet,” I say, trying to keep my voice light. “But there’s still time.”

Wyatt stretches, his arm tightening around me. “Don’t suppose you want to go back to your cabin this mornin’, huh?”

I bite my lip, not wanting to admit how right he is. I’m not ready to go back, not yet. “It’s so early,” I say instead. “And I’m starving.”

Holt sits up, rubbing a hand through his messy hair. “Guess we’ll have to take you on that date after all.”

“Thought I’d have to beg,” I tease, even though the idea of spending more time with them makes my heart do funny little flips.

Wyatt grins and finally opens his eyes, all warm brown and mischief. “We can arrange that if you want.”

He smirks, voice still thick with sleep. “C’mon, City Girl. Let’s find you that bathroom before you start threatening me with bodily harm.”

He hauls himself up, stretching with a satisfied groan before offering me a hand. I take it, letting him pull me up from the too-small bed. The cabin is still warm from the fire Mason must’ve stoked in the early hours, the scent of burning wood mixing with the faint aroma of coffee.

Wyatt keeps a hand on my lower back as he steers me through the dim space, his touch easy and familiar. “This place is a maze,” I murmur. “How do you even find your way around?”

“Mountain man instincts,” he teases. “That, or I just know where Mason keeps the shitter.”

I stifle a laugh as he nudges open a door, revealing a small but clean bathroom. “Your throne awaits, princess.”

I roll my eyes but step inside, grateful for the privacy. When I return, Wyatt is leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching me, cataloging every little move.

“Mason and Lily are up,” he says. “Figure we oughta say our goodbyes before we head out.”

I nod, my stomach twisting—not with regret, but with something else. A reluctance to step back into the mess waiting for me up the mountain. Wyatt must see it on my face because he tugs me in close, pressing a lingering kiss to my forehead.

“C’mon, let’s go break the bad news.”

Mason and Lily are already moving around the kitchen, Lily pouring coffee while Mason rifles through a cabinet. They look up when we enter, and Lily beams. “Morning,” she chirps. “Hope you all got some sleep.”

I glance over my shoulder at Wyatt, who’s rubbing a hand over his face like he’s still half-asleep, and Holt, who’s finally dragged himself off the floor. “Some,” I say with a grin.

Mason snorts. “Guess that means you’re headin’ back soon?”

Wyatt sighs, resting his hands on his hips. “Yeah. Figured we’d make our way up before the roads get worse again.”

Lily steps forward, wrapping me in a quick hug before I can process it. “I really am sorry. I didn’t mean?—”

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