Page 83 of Twins for the Mountain Daddies

“You guys don’t know what you’re getting into,” I say, my voice trembling. “I don’t even know what I’m getting into.”

Holt’s hand covers mine, stopping my nervous fidgeting. “We know enough, Ivy. And we’ll figure out the rest together.”

The sincerity in his voice makes my heart ache, and I feel that dizzying rush again, the one that makes me want to laugh and cry and hold on to them forever. They’re willing to take this leap with me, and I realize I’m willing to take it too.

Wyatt sits on my other side, stretching his arm along the back of the couch, his fingers toying with the ends of my hair. “You really think we don’t know what we’re getting into?”

I huff out a laugh, shaking my head. “I thinkIdon’t know what I’m getting into.” My hand drifts to my stomach, fingers brushing over the fabric of my sweater. “I still can’t wrap my head around any of this. You two. The babies. Staying.”

Holt’s eyes darken. “But do youwantto stay?”

It’s such a simple question, but it twists something deep inside me. Do I?

I’ve spent so long thinking I had to leave and go back to my “real” life at some point. But I don’twantto. I love it here.

I swallow hard. “I want…” I trail off, exhaling slowly. “I love it here.”

Holt moves before I even finish speaking, dropping to his knees between my legs and pressing his forehead to my stomach. His breath is warm through my many layers, his voice rough when he speaks. “That’s all we needed to hear, baby.”

Wyatt’s hand settles on top of mine, pressing it firmer against my stomach. “And if you ever get scared again, you tell us. We’re not letting you go, Ivy.”

The words hit me harder than I expected, something fragile and terrified inside me breaking apart under the weight of their certainty. I press a shaky hand to Wyatt’s jaw, tilting his face up so I can look at him. “You really mean that?”

His lips curve into a smirk, but his eyes are serious. “You’re stuck with us now, City Girl.”

Holt presses a kiss to my stomach, then another. “All three of you.”

I laugh, breathless and overwhelmed, as Holt shifts up, capturing my lips in a kiss that feels like a promise. Wyatt’s hand slides up my back, grounding me between them.

We sit in a comfortable silence, the kind that doesn’t need to be filled with words. I don’t remember the last time I felt this happy. Maybe never. There’s still plenty to figure out: Hank, my contract with the reality show, where we’re going to live. But we don’t have to figure it all out right this second.

The sound of the door opening breaks the peace, and Lily bursts in, her cheeks red from the cold. “You’re still here!” she exclaims, looking genuinely thrilled.

“Still here,” I confirm, smiling at her.

Mason follows her in, shaking snow from his jacket. “Roads are getting pretty slick. You might want to spend the night.”

“Spend the night?” Holt echoes, glancing at me.

I nod, feeling a warmth spread through me that has nothing to do with the fire Mason just stoked. “We’d love to. As long as you don’t mind. I don’t want to impose any further. You’ve already done so much for me tonight.”

“It’s not an imposition. You’ll stay. Guest room only has a full, though.” Mason says, grabbing a beer from the fridge and handing one to Holt and another to Wyatt. “One of you might have to sleep on the couch.”

Holt takes the beer with a shake of his head. “I don’t want her out of my sight. I’ll take the floor. As long as I’m next to Ivy, I don’t care where it is.”

I feel my cheeks heat up, partly from embarrassment but mostly from the way his words make my heart do that wild, happy dance again. How did I get so lucky? I thought I’d lost them.

Wyatt stretches, looking every bit the satisfied cat. “Guess that means I get the bed.” He winks at me, and I can’t help but laugh.

“I should call and cancel the car,” I say, pulling out my phone.

Holt’s hand covers mine, and I look up to see him watching me with those intense gray eyes. “You sure?”

I nod, taking a deep breath. “I’m sure.”

I make the call, my fingers trembling a little. It feels monumental, like I’m officially choosing this life with them. Wyatt fiddles with Mason’s radio, the old thing crackling before he gets a clear line.

“Hank, you copy?”

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