Page 87 of Twins for the Mountain Daddies

“It’s okay Lily. I told you I don’t blame you. Just don’t go telling the rest of the mountain. I don’t need the paparazzi finding me here.”

Lily laughs, squeezing me once before letting go. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

Mason nods, his usual gruffness softening just a fraction. “Be careful on those roads. Snow’s comin’ in again soon.”

Holt claps him on the shoulder. “We’ll be fine. Just gotta make sure this one doesn’t try to make a run for it.” He jerks a thumb in my direction, and I roll my eyes.

“Please,” I scoff. “If I was running, you’d never catch me.”

Wyatt chuckles, looping an arm around my waist. “That so? Pretty sure we already did.”

I elbow him, but it’s half-hearted. He’s not wrong.

With a few more goodbyes, we head back to grab our things. Wyatt slings on his coat while Holt stuffs blankets back into the closet. I lace up my boots, the heaviness growing the closer we get to leaving.

The truck’s already warming up outside, steam curling up from the hood into the cold air. I pause at the doorway, glancing back at Mason and Lily one last time. They look like they belonghere, like this cabin is more than just four walls—like it’s home. I wonder if I’ll ever feel that way about a place again.

Wyatt tugs my hand, snapping me out of it. “C’mon, City Girl. Let’s get you and the cubs fed.”

I huff a laugh, shaking my head as Wyatt helps me up into the truck. “Cubs?”

He grins, shutting the door behind me before climbing in on the driver’s side. “What? They’re mountain babies. Gotta call ‘em something.”

Holt hauls himself into the passenger seat, rubbing his hands together for warmth. “Could be worse. He could’ve gone with Possum and Squirrel.”

Wyatt snaps his fingers like that’s the best idea he’s ever heard. “Damn. Why didn’t I think of that?”

I groan, dropping my head against the seat. “Absolutely not. They are not being named after woodland pests.”

Wyatt just smirks, throwing the truck into gear. “We’ll see.”

There’s a fresh layer of white over everything, just a dusting of dry snow. The road ahead looks slick, but Wyatt handles it like second nature, his hands sure and steady on the wheel.

Wyatt reaches around me to fiddle with the radio. “So, where’re we takin’ her, Hotshot?”

“Somewhere fancy,” Holt says, nudging me with his shoulder. “Might even have cloth napkins.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m overwhelmed.”

Holt glances at me again, his smile softening. “What are you in the mood for, CG?”

“I desperately want waffles for some reason.”

“Her first craving!”

Wyatt smacks the steering wheel like this is the most important news he’s ever heard. “Hell yeah! Waffles it is.”

Holt chuckles, shaking his head. “First craving and it’s waffles. Could’ve been worse.”

“Could’ve been pickles and ice cream,” Wyatt agrees.

I scrunch my nose. “That’s not a real thing.”

Wyatt winks. “Give it time, City Girl.”

I groan, already regretting bringing it up, but Holt just grins and pulls out his phone. “There’s a diner about twenty minutes out. Place does a mean stack of waffles.”

Wyatt nods, tapping his fingers against the wheel. “Perfect. Waffles for the cubs, coffee for me, and a damn minute to breathe before we deal with Hank.”

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