Page 16 of Twin Babies for the Silver Fox (Happy Ever Alpha Daddies #3)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Josie

I can still feel him.

Even now, the following morning.

Not in some poetic, metaphorical way. No. I mean literally. My thighs ache, there’s a brush burn on my lower back from that damn fancy hot tub of his, and my lips still tingle just thinking about his mouth.

Someone help me.

Knox Knightly is a menace. A delicious, tattooed, growly menace who turned me into a puddle with just his voice and his wicked smile.

I bite my lip to keep from grinning like a complete lunatic as I shove a croissant into my mouth and climb into Maya’s Jeep. I’m still floating somewhere between the stars and his hot tub, all wrapped up in post orgasmic afterglow.

My best friend gives me a long, sideways look, sunglasses perched dramatically on her head, Starbucks in hand like she’s already fueled up for a day of chaos.

“You’re glowing,” she announces immediately. “Like, just got laid , sex halo, main character in a romcom level glowing. Spill it, Dawson.”

I almost choke on flaky pastry. “Can we pick up Gracie before you start the third degree?”

Maya smirks like the devil herself, but lets it go. For now.

We swing by Stella’s Market to pick up Gracie, who’s staying in the apartment above while she helps out in the kitchen. She climbs into the back seat with her usual quiet smile and a Tupperware container in hand.

“I brought blueberry scones,” she says, voice shy but proud.

Maya twists in her seat, eyes gleaming. “Girl, are you trying to make me propose? Because this is how it happens.”

Gracie flushes bright pink. “I didn’t know what to bring.”

I grin and glance at Maya. “Gracie, this is Maya, my best friend, chaos incarnate, and the reason I now own three pairs of impractical shoes. Maya, meet Gracie from culinary school. She’s helping out in the kitchen.”

Maya offers her a warm smile and a dramatic little wave. “Pleasure. Any friend of Josie’s who brings baked goods is a friend of mine.”

Gracie flushes pink but smiles back. “Nice to meet you.”

“Girl, same,” Maya says, already unwrapping a scone like she’s found religion. “These smell amazing. If Josie doesn’t lock you down as a roomie, I might steal you.”

We all laugh, and just like that, it feels easy.

We drive down Main Street, and Silver Peak is already shaking off winter like it’s waking up from a long nap.

Pastel banners flap in shop windows, little white lights are still strung along the lampposts, and there’s this muddy, slushy, hopeful energy in the air that makes it feel like something good’s coming.

We land at Cold Snap Café. It smells like cinnamon and espresso, and the garden wall in the back is already dotted with little purple blooms.

I claim our usual corner table while Maya orders her matcha with extra everything, and Gracie nervously triple checks the milk options before settling on oat. By the time we’re all seated, Maya leans in like a lioness ready to pounce.

“So. Knox.”

I groan and bury my face in my arms. “Can we not?”

Gracie blinks. “Knox? As in, our boss Knox?”

I can’t believe she hasn’t heard the whispers yet. I suppose the video has died down a little, and no one knows that anything has happened. But I’m sure the staff at The Marrow must suspect.

But by the look on Gracie’s face, she doesn’t have a clue.

“That’s the one,” Maya says, waggling her eyebrows like she’s narrating a steamy novella. “But Josie finally had her big bad wolf moment, and by the look of her, the man huffed, puffed, and blew her house down.”

My face heats like someone lit a fire under my skin. “You’re the one who dared me to let loose at karaoke night.”

“I was thinking a sloppy make-out or maybe a one-night stand. Not full-on ‘hot chef with a tragic backstory’ territory.”

“He’s not like that,” I say, maybe a little too fast.

Gracie gives me a soft smile, her eyes full of quiet kindness. “Do you like him?”

I pause.

Because yeah. I do. Not just the sex, which was mind-melting, but the way he looks at me. Like I’m not just something to pass the time. Like he sees me. Like he gets that part of me I try to keep buried, the one that wants more, even when I tell myself I don’t deserve it.

“I think I do,” I say, voice barely above a whisper.

Maya leans back with a low whistle. “Well damn. Maybe I need to hit up karaoke night again.”

I laugh, the kind that bubbles up and makes my ribs ache. Somehow, with them, everything feels normal. Even when my whole world’s been flipped upside down.

“So,” I say, shifting gears before Maya can start asking about tattoos and orgasms, “you mentioned something about the Spring Melt Market, right? That’s what we’re here to talk about.”

Maya perks up like I just handed her a double shot of espresso with an extra side of validation.

“Yes! I’m sketching designs for a capsule collection.

Super flirty, mountain girl chic. Think linen jumpsuits, soft wrap skirts, maybe some floral embroidery.

If it turns out half as cute as it is in my head, I might finally launch that fashion line I keep talking about. ”

Gracie lights up. “You design? I’d love to see!”

Maya winks and reaches for her bag. “I always have them with me.”

She flips it open, spreading the sketchbook between our lattes and scones.

The pages are filled with flowing silhouettes, soft fabrics that seem to move even though they’re just pencil lines, and little swatches of color notes scrawled in the margins.

There are embroidered mountain wildflowers climbing up a halter dress, a wrap skirt with delicate lace trim, and a cropped jacket that looks like something out of a fairytale.

“Oh wow,” Gracie murmurs, gently turning a page. “These are beautiful.”

“They really are,” I say, meaning it. “Like, these look like something you’d see in an actual boutique.”

Maya shrugs like she’s playing it cool, but I catch the little flicker of pride behind her eyes. “I’ve got ideas. Just need to make them real.”

“You’ve always had ideas,” I say, sipping my latte. “You’ve been designing since middle school. Remember when you tried to make me wear a crop top to a middle school dance?”

“It was visionary ,” Maya declares, flipping her hair dramatically. “You just didn’t have the confidence to rock it yet.”

“I was fourteen!”

“And now look at you.” She winks. “Sleeping with hot chefs and glowing like a glazed donut. We love to see it.”

I cover my face again, laughing so hard I nearly snort. Gracie giggles quietly beside me, and for a second, it feels like the three of us have been doing this for years. Like we’re old friends on the edge of something new.

We fall into that easy rhythm, the kind that only happens when the vibes are right and the coffee is hot. Gracie is sketching tiny flowers in the corner of a napkin while Maya starts plotting color palettes like her life depends on it.

I’m halfway through my second latte when Maya suddenly sits up straighter, eyes gleaming like she’s had another revelation.

“Okay,” she says, pointing a finger at both of us. “Hear me out. We’re clearly in the zone. Creative juices flowing, good vibes all around.”

I narrow my eyes. “This feels like a setup.”

“It is ,” she says unapologetically. “I say we ride the momentum and go get a real drink. Something bubbly. Something celebratory. Because, A, Josie finally got laid and lived to tell the tale. B, Gracie brought scones and officially passed the vibe check. And C, I might actually do the damn thing and launch this line.”

Gracie blinks. “Right now?”

“Yes, right now,” Maya says, already pulling out her phone. “Let’s go day drink like classy, confident women with good taste and better gossip.”

I laugh, shaking my head. “You mean let’s go get wine drunk at noon like slightly unhinged small town girls with poor impulse control.”

“Tomato, tomato,” Maya says, already standing. “Let’s hit Aspen Brew. They do rosé flights and cheese boards. Plus, they have a patio with space heaters. It’s practically fate.”

I guess that’s it then.

Let’s go day drink.

By the time we make it to Maya’s apartment, I’m buzzing. It’s technically Maya’s boutique, but we’re above it, and she insists on calling it her “loft.”

And not just from the wine.

Everything feels like so much right now. The job. The kitchen. The man.

I can’t stop thinking about all of it.

What the hell is wrong with me?

Maya tops off our glasses, her eyes glittering like she’s two sips away from pulling the truth right out of me. She’s already a glass ahead, maybe two.

“You’ve been making that noise for ten straight minutes,” she says, flopping onto the velvet settee. “Spill it, sugarplum.”

“I don’t know what this is,” I blurt, wine loosening the words I’ve been holding back all day. “With me and Knox.”

Gracie, curled up in a fuzzy blanket on the other end of the couch, tilts her head. Her voice is soft, careful. “So there really might be something?”

“I don’t know,” I sigh, scrunching my nose. “I shouldn’t have feelings , but maybe I do.”

Maya’s grin stretches like a cat in the sun. “ Feelings ?! Oh, babe. You caught feelings?”

I toss a pillow at her. “Don’t look so smug. I don’t know what this is. He’s older. Broody. Suspiciously good in bed. And sometimes, when he looks at me it’s like he thinks I’m some kind of miracle. But other times, it’s like he’s already halfway out the door.”

“Men,” Maya mutters, swirling her glass. “Walking red flags with great arms.”

Gracie’s voice is tentative. “How old is he?”

“Forty,” I admit, and then quickly add, “And yes, I know . Age gap. Boss. Chaos. But he’s different. He opens up to me. Tells me things I don’t think he’s told anyone.”

Maya raises a brow. “Like what?”

I hesitate. “Like being in the NFL. Got hurt. Career-ending kind of hurt. Before he started cooking.”

Gracie blinks. “Wait. NFL? As in... famous?”

“Yeah. He played for Seattle. Big deal, apparently.”

Maya leans forward, intrigued. “Yeah, I do know he’s a footballer, but I don’t know too much about him.”

Gracie’s already pulling out her phone, her fingers lightning fast. “Knox Knightly. Okay, let’s see…”

“No, Gracie, don’t.” My stomach knots instantly.

Too late.

Gracie’s eyes widen as she scrolls. “Oh. Oh wow.”

Maya leans in, peering over her shoulder. “Oh damn . Hello abs. Yep, there’s the game day glare. What’s the damage?”

Gracie doesn’t look up. “Article from five years ago, bar fight. DUI rumors. Another about him being ‘uncoachable.’ And… wait. Oh.”

My throat goes dry. “What now ?”

She turns the screen toward me. “He used to date that influencer model, Savannah Monroe? Does that name mean anything?”

I blink. “Nah, I don’t really know anything about influencers.”

Gracie’s voice is gentle. “Josie, she gave an interview. Said he was ‘controlling,’ ‘unfaithful,’ ‘dangerous when drinking.’ And there’s a video. Paparazzi footage. He’s yelling in the street, looks... unhinged.”

My heart twists so hard I can’t breathe. “He said he doesn’t drink anymore.”

“People say a lot of things,” Maya says carefully. “I’m not saying he’s lying. But babe, that’s heavy.”

I stare down at my wineglass, the warm buzz fading fast. Suddenly, it tastes bitter. “It was five years ago, right? People can change.”

“Sure,” Maya agrees. “But you do need to be careful. Do you see any of that in him?”

“I guess he can be a little hard to read at times,” I admit. “A little possessive, perhaps? I don’t know.”

They both stare at me.

“Have I been an idiot?”

“Hey.” Maya’s voice cuts in, firm but kind. “No way. You’re not an idiot. You might need to figure out a bit more who he is.”

Gracie nods, eyes wide with concern. “And also, if he’s been famous, then people are going to be interested in him. People might become seriously interested in you, too.”

I shut my eyes, trying to hold back the flood rising in my chest. “Yeah, I don’t like that idea. I don’t want to be the center of attention.”

Maya slides closer, grabbing my hand and squeezing it. “There’s no guarantee this will happen, but you do need to figure out if you want to be mixed up with him.”

A tear slips down my cheek as I laugh. “Yeah, you’re right. I do like him, but I don’t know if this town is a place someone like him will want forever. I’m sure he has plans to move on eventually. I don’t want to end up heartbroken.”

“Then maybe you need to pull back until you know for sure that he’s going to stick around?” Maya says. “I don’t want to see you get your heart broken.”

Gracie reaches over and gently places her hand over mine, her brows pulled together in worry. “This makes me more worried about you, Josie. You were never like this in Chicago.”

That’s because I didn’t care enough about anyone in Chicago.

I nod, chewing on my bottom lip. “Yeah. I think I’m just scared.

Not because of the job or gossip or whatever.

But because I don’t know what this is to him.

He doesn’t talk about feelings, not really.

And if he usually dates women like that ,” I gesture vaguely toward Gracie’s phone, “then maybe I’m only a blip.

A fling. Someone he’ll forget about once the novelty wears off. ”

Maya doesn’t let go of my hand. “Then draw your line, babe. You don’t have to figure everything out right now, but you can protect yourself. If this doesn’t feel solid, you step back until it does.”

Gracie agrees, “And just because it’s complicated doesn’t mean you’ve done anything wrong. You followed your heart. That’s not stupid. It’s brave.”

I take a shaky breath, their words circling around me like a life raft.

“I think I need to pull back,” I say finally. “Not because I regret it, but because I cannot deal with a heartbreak right now. Not from my boss.”

Maya nods like she’s already ready to throw the first punch. “Good. Draw the line. If he’s worth it, he’ll step up. If not? His loss. We’ll drink wine and slash tires.”

Gracie stifles a laugh. “We’re not slashing tires.”

“Fine. We’ll bake aggressively and talk trash. Same thing.”

I smile, even though it’s small. “Thanks, both of you. I just… I need space to figure out what’s real. I can’t keep falling for someone who might already be walking away.”

Maya lifts her glass. “To pulling back before the spiral.”

Gracie clinks hers gently. “And to knowing your worth.”

We drink. And even though it still hurts, even though I know I’m not quite done with him, not really, I feel the tiniest flicker of strength settle in my chest.

Because maybe I’m not his type.

But I’m not just anyone either.