Page 102 of Twins for the Mountain Daddies

They kiss me in greeting before peeling off to their separate corners to wash up, change, and whatever else they need to do.

I take the moment of quiet to stretch out my fingers, flexing the soreness away, and glance down at the lumpy, misshapen baby hat in my lap. It’s…well, it’s ugly. But Itried, and that’s what matters.

A year ago, if you’d told me I’d be here—knitting, of all things, in a cabin, in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by three men who’ve somehow becomemypeople—I would have laughed you right out of the room. Back then, my world was cameras and contracts, my face plastered on tabloids, my life dissected for public consumption.

Now?

Now, I’m starting over.Reallystarting over.

I canceled my contract with the network. No more reality TV. No more pretending. No more letting someone else dictate the story of my life.

Of course, my family didn’t take that well. At all. I expected anger and guilt trips. But Idid notexpect them to try and sue me for “loss of wages”. As if my existence—mywork—was their paycheck. The audacity would almost be impressive if it weren’t so disgusting.

It stung. I won’t pretend it didn’t. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that walking away doesn’t always mean losing. Sometimes, it means winning in a way no one else understands.

And here? This life?

This ismine.So, I’m making it mine. I like this quiet life we’re building, but I need some creature comforts.

I paid to have the internet upgraded up here, which was a small fortune but completely worth it. Because once it’s up and running, I’ll be starting online courses. I want to get a business degree, something real and useful. I want to help Hank and Wyatt run their companies. Maybe I’ll even start my own.

I still miss some of my city comforts. I won’t lie about that. But I’ve learned to appreciate the simple things. The quiet. Theway the air smells fresher here. This place—this life—feelsrealin a way nothing ever did before.

And these men?

They’re home.

The three of them aren’t gone long, and before I know it, they’re crowding me again.

“Whatcha got there, sweetheart?” Wyatt asks, plopping down next to me on the couch and nudging my knee with his own.

“A disaster,” I deadpan, holding up the uneven, misshapen attempt at a baby beanie. “I think I accidentally made a hat for a lopsided watermelon.”

Holt snorts, leaning over to inspect it. “Not bad for a beginner.”

I narrow my eyes. “That was dangerously close to an insult.”

Hank, of course, just stands there, arms crossed, watching me with that unreadable expression of his. I’ve learned that means he’s thinking. Hard. Which is usually followed by him saying something either incredibly profound or infuriatingly blunt.

I brace myself. But I’m pleasantly surprised.

He jerks his chin toward the door. “Come on. I want to show you something.”

I glance between him and the half-finished beanie, then at the other two, who don’t seem at all surprised. That’s enough to make me curious. I set my mess of yarn aside and push up off the couch—with help, because let me tell you, being six months pregnant with twins is no picnic. “This better not be a trick to make me help you chop wood.”

Hank doesn’t even crack a smile. He just grabs his keys and heads for the door.

Wyatt grins as he nudges me forward. “Trust me, you’ll like this.”

Outside, Hank’s new truck is parked in the drive—a proper one with a full cab. No more bench seat. This one is all tricked out and comes with a full backseat so there’s plenty of room for car seats.

They’ve all started making changes for me. Small but noticeable changes. It’s…I don’t know how to put it into words. These men have shown me what it’s like to truly be loved.

A rush of emotions swells in me.

I don’t say anything as I climb in—with help, again. The drive is quiet, the hum of the engine blending with the sound of the wind through the trees as we bump down the dirt road, deeper onto their property. Hank reaches over to rest his hand on my thigh, and I weave my fingers through his. He smiles and brings our hands to his lips before returning them to my lap.

We don’t head down the mountain like I expect. Instead, we drive further into the boys’ property. Since the snow has melted and it’s safe for me to be out and about with them, I’ve learned they actually own a nice chunk of land up here.

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