Page 30 of Twin Babies for the Silver Fox (Happy Ever Alpha Daddies #3)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Knox

I leave before the sun comes up.

Josie’s still curled on her side, tangled in the blankets, one hand resting over the soft swell of her chest. Her lips are parted slightly, lashes casting shadows on her cheeks. Peaceful. Warm.

Perfect.

I stand in the doorway for longer than I should, trying to memorize the sight. The way her hair fans out across the pillow. The little crease between her brows. That impossibly tender ache in my chest makes it hard to breathe.

I want to stay. Crawl back in and pull her into my arms until the rest of the world doesn’t exist.

But she’s off work for a reason. And I don’t want to wake her.

So I write a quick note, leave it on the nightstand, and slip out the front door into the crisp mountain morning.

The Cold Snap Café is already humming when I get there.

Silver Peak’s early risers buzzing on caffeine and gossip.

The smell of fresh bread and burnt espresso clings to the air like a second skin.

I tug my ball cap low over my forehead and head for the corner, hoping for anonymity and a damn good cup of coffee.

Lily waves from behind the counter, her smile bright enough to melt the frost on the windows. “Morning, Knox. How you doing after last night? Game night was fun, wasn’t it?”

“Hey, Lily.” I nod. “It sure was. Can I get whatever Mason’s made that doesn’t involve cinnamon?”

She laughs. “Black coffee and a sour cream muffin coming right up.”

I’m halfway through the first sip when I hear it.

“Josie is what? Twenty-five?”

“Just about. And he’s got to be at least forty. I mean, really .”

I don’t turn around, but my shoulders lock up. The voices drift from two tables over. A pair of women I vaguely recognize from the town council auxiliary. One of them stirs her latte like it’s personally offended her.

“I’m not saying it’s scandalous. But it’s a little inappropriate, don’t you think?”

“He’s her boss. And her elder,” the other says with a loaded smirk. “That kind of power dynamic? Not exactly romantic.”

A loud clatter of ceramic on wood pulls my attention. Mason sets a plate in front of me harder than necessary, jaw tight.

“Ignore them,” he mutters. “Those two run on judgment and caffeine.”

I manage a grunt of thanks, but the words dig in deeper than I want to admit.

I haven’t thought about the age gap. Not really. Not the way they just laid it out like a warning sign nailed to a tree. Josie’s always felt like an equal, more than that, even. She challenges me. Pushes me. Makes me feel more alive than I have in years.

But now…

Now I can’t stop thinking about the numbers. The difference in years. The difference in lives.

She’s just getting started.

I’m already on my second act.

I’m about to stand, coffee half drunk, appetite long gone, when the bell above the door jingles and in breezes Mayor Willa.

Oh no.

“Knox!” she trills. “Fancy seeing you here. I didn’t get a chance to talk to you one-on-one last night.”

“Mayor.” I nod tightly, hoping she’ll take the hint.

No such luck.

She sidles up to my table, sunglasses perched in her hair, clipboard in one hand. “You know, I’ve been meaning to say, it’s been so nice seeing what you have been doing online for the town. You and your NFL background have made people notice Silver Peak.”

My jaw ticks. “That wasn’t exactly me.”

“Mm, right,” she continues, clearly missing or ignoring the strain in my voice. “Tourism is booming, you know. What amazing PR. Better than we ever could have paid for.”

I blink. “PR?”

“Oh, don’t bristle,” she says, like we’re old friends sharing a joke. “Silver Peak will thank you when we’re all doing well out of this.”

I stare at her for a beat too long, pulse thudding behind my eyes.

Damn Jace.

Damn Eli and Jude.

Damn the Internet.

But Willa’s already sashaying off toward the counter, waving to Lily and placing her usual complicated order.

I scrape my chair back and leave a twenty on the table, the muffin untouched.

As I step outside into the cold morning air, the bite of it sobers me. Makes me think harder than I want to. The whispers. The assumptions. The way people see us when they think we’re not looking.

She deserves better than this.

Better than being talked about like a naive fool.

Better than being reduced to a girl caught up with an older, complicated man.

She deserves someone who fits into her world, not someone who makes it more complicated just by walking through it.

But when I picture walking away?

That’s worse.

Way worse.

So I shove my hands in my pockets, heart heavy and uncertain, and head toward the only place that makes sense anymore.

The Marrow is quiet when I get there, the front door still locked, a thin sheen of frost clinging to the windows like lace. I fish out my keys, planning to head straight to the kitchen and bury myself in prep work, anything to shut my brain up for a while.

But as I round the corner by the service hallway, I stop short.

Dee’s standing near the back door, one hand cradling a cup of something steaming. Nova’s in front of her, one arm braced on the wall, the other gently brushing a lock of hair from her cheek.

They’re laughing at something, low, warm, and then Nova leans in.

And kisses her.

Not a quick, casual peck. But a real kiss. Slow. Sure. Like she means it. Like they’ve been waiting a long time to get to this moment.

I freeze, more from surprise than anything else. I didn’t know this was coming, not by a long shot. Nova really is a dark horse.

Dee pulls back first, but she doesn’t go far. Her eyes are soft, her usual edge smoothed down to something almost… shy. It’s the most vulnerable I’ve ever seen her.

They exchange a few more hushed words I can’t hear, then Dee heads out the back door, coffee still in hand, her mouth tugged into the kind of smile that sticks around even after it's gone.

Nova watches her leave, then exhales like she’s been holding her breath for weeks.

When she finally turns, she sees me in the hallway.

She doesn’t jump or flinch. Just lifts a brow like she’s daring me to say something.

I raise my hands in surrender. “None of my business.”

She grabs a towel from the prep table and starts wiping down the already clean counter. “Damn right it’s not.”

There’s no heat in her voice, though. Only a quiet kind of satisfaction.

Still, I can’t help myself. “So, you and Dee?”

Nova shrugs, avoiding eye contact. “It’s nothing. We’ve been hanging out. It’s not a big deal.”

“Sure.” I nod, pretending to buy it. “Totally casual.”

She side-eyes me, mouth twitching. “Fine. Maybe it’s something. But don’t go making a thing out of it, okay? It’s early.”

I nod again, more slowly this time. “She makes you smile. That’s not nothing.”

Nova goes still for a beat. Then, softly, “Yeah. She does.”

And just like that, she slips past me into the pantry, conversation over.

But the whole exchange leaves something rattling around in my chest.

That look on Nova’s face, the hope, the nerves, the wonder of it all, it’s the same feeling I had when I looked at Josie this morning, curled up in bed like she belonged there.

I sink into one of the stools by the prep counter and pull out my phone.

My fingers hover over the screen.

I miss you already.

Delete.

I did NOT want to leave you this morning.

Delete.

Tell me to stop thinking about the way your skin felt under my hands, because I can’t.

Delete.

Tell me this isn’t real.

Delete.

I stare at the blinking cursor for a while longer, heart pounding, thumb itching to hit send on something, anything, but I can’t. Because those harsh words from the cafe are still ringing through my mind.

“Josie is what? Twenty-five?”

“Just about. And he’s got to be at least forty. I mean, really.”

“I’m not saying it’s scandalous. Just… it’s a little inappropriate, don’t you think?”

“He’s her boss. And her elder. That kind of power dynamic? Not exactly romantic.”

This isn’t like me at all.

I really don’t know what to do for the best.

And I do not like not knowing what to do.