Page 96 of Twins for the Mountain Daddies

I glare at the radio like he can see me through it. “Ain’t your business.”

Mason chuckles, but there’s no real humor in it. “Uh-huh. I’ll radio if I hear anything else.”

I don’t answer. Instead, I toss the radio onto the table and start pacing. Again. I’m going to wear a groove in the floor at this rate.

I’ve been avoiding Ivy for days, letting my own damn pride keep me from facing what I did, from owning up to the way I pushed her away. The more time I’ve had to sit with it, the more I’ve realized how much of an asshole I’ve been. I was wrong. Very, very wrong.

And now, I might’ve wasted all that time just to lose her for good. Her mother may succeed in dragging her back to that world she was so desperate to get away from.

I run a hand through my hair, over my beard, back through my hair again. I’ve never been good with words. Never been good with feelings, either. But I have to figure out how to fix this. How to make her see that I was an idiot and that I want her here.

I want her. The babies. All of it.

I want the kind of life I never thought I could have—the kind with a family, with love, with more than just an empty cabin and a cat that mildly tolerates me.

When I hear Wyatt’s truck coming up the drive, my heart jumps up to my throat and sits there, nearly choking me. The engine cuts off, and a second later, the door swings open. Wyatt’s voice carries through the cold air, warm and full of so much damn joy.

“C’mon, City Girl,” he says, laughter in his voice. “Let me love on you before you go passin’ out on me.”

Ivy’s laugh is soft, tired, but real. “You’ve been loving on me all day, Wyatt.”

“Yeah, well, you and the cubs deserve it. Not every day a man gets to see his babies for the first time.”

I close my eyes, swallowing hard.

They heard the heartbeats.

I should’ve been there.

The front door creaks open, and I force myself to turn, to look. Wyatt’s got Ivy wrapped up in his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of her head like he can’t help himself. They make it look so easy. It guts me.

Because that should be me, too.

Wyatt clocks me standing there, and his grin dims just a little. “Hey, Hank.” His voice is still easy, still warm, but a little less soft.

Ivy stiffens, just for a second, before she pulls away from Wyatt and sets her coat on the hook. “Hey.” She won’t look at me.

I don’t blame her.

I clear my throat, feeling like my own damn body is too tight, too heavy. “How’d it go?”

She hesitates, like she’s not sure she wants to answer. But then Wyatt—always the talker—jumps in. “Good, man. Real good. Heard both heartbeats, and those little beans are growing like weeds.” He wraps an arm around Ivy’s shoulders, squeezing her to his side. “Doctor said she’s healthy, babies are healthy,everything’s lookin’ great,” Wyatt crows, holding up a grainy sonogram picture like it’s a winning lottery ticket.

I force a smile, though it feels like my face might crack. “Congrats.”

Ivy’s eyes meet mine for a second, and I swear I see something there—hurt, maybe, or disappointment. But it’s gone before I can figure it out, and she’s looking at Wyatt again, laughing at one of his dumb jokes.

Wyatt pins the sonogram to the fridge with a magnet shaped like a bear, and my heart stutters. I want to tell Ivy how sorry I am, how wrong I was, how much I want her here with me.

But the words stick in my throat, and all that comes out is, “Ivy, can we talk?”

She hesitates, then shakes her head. “I can’t right now, Hank.”

I can’t blame her. I wouldn’t want to talk to me either. But it still feels like a kick in the ribs.

Wyatt stretches, rolling his shoulders. “I’m gonna grab a shower, change into clothes that don’t smell like a damn toilet.” He presses a kiss to Ivy’s temple before heading toward the bathroom.

Then it’s just me and Ivy, standing there in the kitchen. She watches him go, and for a split second, her eyes flick to mine then away again. The silence is thick enough to choke on. She’s staring at the sonogram, and I’m staring at her, and I can’t take it anymore.

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