Page 90 of Twins for the Mountain Daddies

“God, yes,” Holt groans, thrusting harder. He pushes deeper, and I feel him pulse inside me, painting my walls with his release.

Wyatt’s mouth crashes against mine, and I taste his moan as he comes too. I collapse against Holt, my body spent and shaking, and I wonder how I ever thought I could go back to anything else.

Eventually, the world starts to come back into focus. My heart is still racing, and I can feel Holt’s pulse thudding against my chest. Wyatt’s breath is warm in my hair, and I don’t want to move. I don’t want this to end.

“Still with us, City Girl?” Holt asks, his voice a lazy drawl.

“Barely,” I manage, my lips curving into a tired smile.

Wyatt’s fingers trace patterns on my back. “She’s gonna be trouble, Holt.”

“Always is,” Holt says, his hand sliding up to cup my cheek. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

I close my eyes, letting their voices wash over me. I don’t know how long this will last, but for now, I’m not going to question it. I’m just going to hold on and hope.

Chapter 42

Wyatt

As much as I know Ivy wants to, we can’t avoid heading back to the cabin forever. Believe me, if I thought we could hole up out here stuffing her full of waffles and our cocks and pretending the outside world didn’t exist, I’d do it in a heartbeat.

So, back we go.

“So, City Girl,” Holt says, nudging her shoulder. “You gonna make us guess baby names, or are you going with something real Hollywood like Apple or...Kale?”

Her lips twitch, and I jump in. “Kale Walker-Hart. Sounds like he’d be a linebacker.”

“Or a salad,” Holt says.

That does it. She smiles, dimples and all, and my heart does a little flip. I’m a goner.

“Maybe we should focus on who the father is before we start naming them,” she says, but there’s a softness to her voice.

I sling an arm around her. “Nah. We decided we don’t care about that part, remember?”

“Just gonna share everything,” Holt says, his eyes meeting mine over her head. “Like we always have.”

Ivy sighs, but it’s more content than worried. “You two are something else.”

“Something great, you mean.”

When we pull up, the cabin’s dark. Hank’s truck is parked out front, and I feel a knot in my stomach. We haven’t talked to him since that brief conversation last night. I know he’s not gonna be thrilled with the news of Ivy’s return. But maybe he’s cooled off by now.

Ivy’s smile fades, and she hugs her coat tighter. “Maybe I should wait outside.”

I shake my head. “No way. We’re in this together, remember?”

Holt grabs her hand. “Yeah, CG. We’re not letting you out of our sight.”

The smell of sweat and alcohol punches me in the face the second I open the door. Hank’s slumped in the armchair by the fire, a half-empty bottle dangling from his fingers.

“‘Bout time you three showed up,” he slurs, voice rougher than usual. “Where the hell you been?”

I glance at Holt, who stiffens beside me. Ivy doesn’t say a damn thing. Doesn’t even look at Hank. She just exhales through her nose, adjusts her coat, and heads straight for the bedroom like he doesn’t exist.

Hank watches her go, jaw ticking. “That’s it? No explanation? No?—”

I cut him off. “What do you wanna hear, Hank? That we ran off to Vegas and got hitched? That we spent the night braiding each other’s hair and sharing our feelings?” I snort. “You didn’t wanna see her, so we gave you space. Now we’re back.”

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