Page 39 of Twin Babies for the Silver Fox (Happy Ever Alpha Daddies #3)

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Josie

I don’t sleep.

Not really.

I lie in bed, curled around the ache in my stomach, watching shadows crawl across the ceiling as the sky turns from charcoal to steel to the soft, bruised blue of morning.

The world starts to stir outside my window, birds, trucks, the low hum of life going on, and I feel like I’m suspended in time. Numb. Heavy.

Empty and full at the same time.

I keep going over it. The look on his face. The way he flinched like I’d stabbed him. The way his voice turned cold, suspicious, cruel.

“How do you even know?”

The words keep echoing, over and over, no matter how hard I try to shut them out.

By the time the sun rises, I know I can’t stay in this bed. I can’t stay in this house. I can’t stay in this.

I’m still wrapped in a blanket on the couch, hands cradling a mug of cold tea I never drank, when my phone buzzes.

I almost ignore it.

But something makes me glance down.

Chef Adela Vaughn – Missed Call

My heart stutters.

Adela?

She was my mentor back in culinary school. Tough as nails, brilliant, intimidating in the best way. She taught me how to butcher a chicken in under three minutes and how to swear in three languages. I haven’t heard from her in over a year.

A second later, a voicemail comes through. Then a text.

Hey, Josie. Call me back when you can. Got something I want to run by you. Exciting stuff.

I blink.

Then I call her back before I can talk myself out of it.

She picks up on the second ring. “Dawson.”

That voice hits like a welcome jolt of caffeine.

“Chef Vaughn,” I rasp.

“You sound like shit.”

“Appreciate that.”

“You still cooking?”

A pause. “I’m trying.”

“Well,” she says, “you might want to stop trying and start packing. I’m opening a place in Denver.

High-end, seasonal, hyper local, all the pretentious farm-to-table buzzwords people eat up.

But the food’s going to be real. Simple, honest. The kind that punches you in the gut and leaves you crying in your wine. ”

Despite myself, I almost laugh. “Sounds like your style.”

“Damn right it is. I need someone who can run the lunch menu. Someone who doesn’t flinch under pressure. Someone who knows how to make food taste like a story, not a Pinterest post. You want to come and check the place out? See if it’s something you’d be interested in?”

I blink.

Stare at the wall like it might help me process what’s happening.

She’s offering me a job.

In Denver.

A real job.

The kind of opportunity I used to dream about before I moved to Silver Peak. Before I fell into Knox’s orbit. Before I started building this quiet, small town life that felt like it could maybe, someday, be enough.

But that dream?

It died last night.

And this... this is something else.

This is a door.

A way forward.

I press the phone tighter to my ear.

“Yes,” I whisper. Then louder. Stronger. “Yes, I want to see the place for sure.”

“Good. I’ll send you the deets.”

She hangs up before I can say thank you.

I sit there, phone clutched in my lap, the silence pressing in again.

But it’s different now.

The ache is still there, deep and heavy, but now I feel something else underneath it.

Direction.

Resolve.

I might be leaving Silver Peak.

I might be walking away from the restaurant, from the quiet rhythm of mountain life, from the man who wrecked me.

But I’m not walking away from myself.

I’m choosing me.

And this time, I won’t look back.

Dinner is meatloaf and mashed potatoes—the kind of comfort food Mom makes when she’s trying to keep everyone grounded.

I don’t taste any of it.

My nerves sit coiled beneath my ribs, tighter than the too firm smile I’ve been wearing since I walked in the door. Mom’s chattering about someone’s engagement, someone I barely know, and Dee’s pushing peas around her plate like she’s carving crop circles into her dinner.

I wait until after the meal. Until plates are cleared and forks have stopped scraping, and silence has started to settle in.

Then I say it.

“I’m going to Denver.”

Mom glances up from the dish towel she’s folding, brow furrowed. “What do you mean, you’re going to Denver?”

Dee’s fork stops mid-air.

“I got a call this morning. Chef Adela Vaughn offered me a spot on her team at the new place she’s opening. She wants me to come see the restaurant, see if I want to work there.”

I try to keep my voice calm. Measured. But the tremor slips through anyway.

Mom’s face crumples, her voice soft with disbelief. “But Josie, sweetheart. You’ve just settled back in. What about the Inn? What about your job?”

“I know,” I cut in gently. “This came out of nowhere. But it’s a real opportunity, Mom.”

The truth is, I haven’t told her everything yet.

Not because I’m hiding it. At least, not exactly.

I don’t want to upset her. She worries so easily, carries things too deeply.

And I’m barely holding it together myself.

I needed space to breathe first, to figure out what any of this even means before I bring it to her.

I always do.

But as she opens her mouth like she’s about to say more, I keep going, before I lose my nerve.

“And before you ask, no, this isn’t just about work. I haven’t said anything because I wasn’t ready yet. There’s a lot going on, and I needed time to figure it out for myself before I brought it to you. I’m not trying to shut you out, Mom. I just needed space.”

Across the table, Dee suddenly shoves her chair back, the legs scraping hard against the floor.

“Are you kidding me?” she mutters under her breath.

Mom looks at her, startled. “Dee?”

“I’m not hungry,” Dee says quickly, already on her feet. “I’ll help with dishes later.”

She walks out without another word.

Mom watches her go, confused, then turns to me with a crease between her brows. “Did something happen between you two?”

I offer a tight smile. “Just... a long week.”

She doesn’t press, thank God.

Once she’s distracted cleaning up, I slip down the hall and find Dee pacing in the laundry room, arms folded so tight they might snap.

“You’re just leaving ?” she says as soon as I walk in, voice low and biting. “No warning, no heads up, just... ‘Hey everyone, I’m peacing out for Denver’?”

“I didn’t plan this, Dee. The offer came this morning. And I don’t know if I’m definitely going.”

“But you already said yes?”

“I said I’d go see it. That’s all. I just… I need a break from here.”

Dee glares at me, then scrubs a hand through her curls like she’s trying to shake the thoughts loose. “What are you even thinking, Josie? After everything that’s happened, now’s when you decide to run?”

“I’m not running,” I snap, harsher than I mean to. “I’m trying to move forward. That’s not the same thing.”

Her jaw clenches.

I take a breath. Then another. My throat feels like it’s closing, but I push the words out anyway.

“You weren’t there, Dee. You didn’t see his face when I told him.”

Her eyes soften a fraction. “You told Knox?”

I press a hand to my stomach, not even thinking. “Yeah.”

Dee swallows hard. “What did he say?”

I laugh, but it’s a hollow, broken sound. “He asked me how I even knew. Like I made it up. Like I was trying to trap him or something. Then he got cold. Suspicious. Distant.” My voice cracks. “He looked at me like I was some stranger on the sidewalk asking for money.”

Dee steps closer, eyes shining now. “Josie.”

“I don’t want to be anywhere near that kind of pain again. I can’t just go back to pretending everything’s fine. I feel like I’m unraveling every time I walk past The Marrow, every time I see his truck, every time someone asks if I’m okay and I have to lie through my teeth.”

“I get it,” she whispers.

“No, you don’t.” I swipe angrily at my cheek. “I was falling for him. And I know I never said it out loud, but I did. And he didn’t even trust me. Not for a second. He looked at me like I was the problem. Like I was the mistake.”

Dee pulls me into a hug, tighter than before. Fierce. Protective. Her voice is thick with emotion when she says, “You are not a mistake.”

I nod against her shoulder. “I need to go see what else is out there. I need to remember who I was before all of this. Before him.”

She leans back, searches my face. “You think this job will do that?”

“I don’t know. But I think not going would feel worse.”

She lets out a breath. Nods. “Okay. But you’re not doing this alone. You hear me?”

“I hear you.”

“I’ll come and help with the baby.”

“ Babies… ”

Dee blinks.

“Wait, what?”

I hesitate, but the truth’s already out there, shimmering in the air between us like heat off pavement.

“It’s twins,” I whisper. “I found out at the ultrasound.”

She just stares at me, like she didn’t hear me right.

Then her hand flies up to her mouth, and her eyes fill so fast I barely see it happen.

“Oh wow.”

“Yeah,” I say, with a wobbly half laugh that turns into a sob. “I know.”

She sinks against the dryer like her knees gave out.

“Twins?” she says again, voice cracking.

I nod, swallowing hard. “Two heartbeats. Two tiny, little peanuts on the screen. I didn’t even know what I was looking at at first. Then the nurse pointed it out and I…” I trail off, blinking against the sting behind my eyes.

Dee’s already crying.

Big, silent tears slide down her cheeks as she shakes her head, like her heart can’t hold all of it at once.

“I was already freaking out,” she chokes out. “At the idea of you doing this alone. But now... Josie, twins? That’s not just hard, that’s impossible. That’s double everything. Double the diapers, double the feedings, double the nights without sleep?—”

“I know,” I say quietly. “Believe me, I know.”

She leans forward, elbows on her knees, her curls falling around her face like a curtain.

“You’re gonna have two tiny humans depending on you, and the man who should be stepping the hell up looked at you like you were the problem?

I swear, if I see him in town, I’m gonna run him over with his own truck. ”

That actually pulls a real laugh out of me. Wet and short, but real.

She wipes her face with her sleeve, then stands abruptly. “Okay. I’m in.”

I blink. “In?”

She nods, already starting to pace again, full Dee mode now. “If you go to Denver, I’m coming with you. I’ll figure it out. Find a transfer or take some time off or whatever. But you are not doing this alone. Not when he bailed. Not when it’s twins.”

“Dee—”

“No.” Her voice goes firm, shaking a little. “You’re my sister. You think I’m gonna let you move to a new city, pregnant with twins, and figure it out by yourself? You think I could sleep at night knowing that?”

My throat tightens. “But what about Nova?”

Her eyes flicker for just a moment. “My nieces or nephews need me right now.”

I open my mouth to argue. To tell her she doesn’t have to do this. That she has a life here, a job, a person, one who makes her light up in that quiet, rare way Dee doesn’t show with just anyone.

But she cuts me off before I can even start.

“This isn’t up for debate,” she says, fierce and final. “You’re not some charity case, Josie. This isn’t pity. This is us. You and me. Like it’s always been.”

And just like that, the ground under my feet doesn’t feel quite so shaky.