Page 51 of Twin Babies for the Silver Fox (Happy Ever Alpha Daddies #3)

JOSIE

Summit Ridge Overlook is more beautiful than I have ever seen it before, the sun lazily sinking behind the mountains like it knows something big’s about to happen and wants a front row seat.

Fairy lights twinkle overhead. Wildflowers burst from mason jars and teacups on every surface. It smells like pine, cake, and fresh air, and beneath that, electric.

“Okay,” Maya says, adjusting the neckline of my dress for the eighth time. “You’ve got something old, those earrings from your mom. Something new, your dress. Something borrowed, Gracie’s clutch. And something blue… Dee’s eyeliner. On you. Accidentally. Sorry.”

Dee shrugs unapologetically. “Consider it a blessing from your cranky fairy godmother.”

I laugh, a little too breathy, a little too nervous. “How are my ankles? Do I look like I waddled here?”

“You look like a goddess who survived twin birth and still managed to make a grown man cry during rehearsal dinner speeches,” Maya says firmly, fluffing my veil like she’s trying to intimidate it. “Now get out there and marry your hot chef.”

A loud record scratch startles us all.

“Showtime!” Jude calls gleefully from their DJ booth…

which is actually just the Timberline Inn’s buffet table turned sideways and topped with a laptop, a mixing board, and a light-up sign that says DJ JUDE JUICY BEATS.

“Walk slow and dramatic! Think Oscar acceptance speech meets indie movie trailer!”

Eli, crouched beside them with a DSLR and a gimbal, gives me a thumbs up. “This is going to be so aesthetic.”

“Please don’t fall,” Dee murmurs, looping her arm through mine.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

We step out into the clearing, and the town collectively awes. Someone actually gasps. Pretty sure it’s Mayor Willa, who’s dabbing at her eyes with a lace hanky and whispering to Dale about seating logistics. Dale, naturally, just grunts and says something about the forecast.

I focus on one thing: Knox.

He’s waiting at the end of the aisle with the twins strapped to his chest in matching cream colored slings. They’re both somehow asleep, even as Tuck trots down the aisle ahead of me with the rings tied to his collar, pausing to sniff Gracie and pee near a daisy arrangement.

But all I can see is Knox.

Knox, in a tux that fits him like a sin. Knox, with our children bundled against his chest like the world’s most chaotic wedding accessory. Knox, smiling like I’m the only thing that exists.

My chest tightens, then expands so fast it hurts. This man, this gorgeous, stubborn, steady man, is my home. My heart. The father of my babies. And somehow, he’s still looking at me like I’m magic.

For one wild second, I almost forget to walk.

Jace shouts, “Atta boy!” like it’s a touchdown.

Knox is smiling like he’s never smiled before.

My legs should be shaking, but they’re not. Instead, I float.

When I reach him, he reaches for my hands, thumb brushing over my knuckles like he needs to memorize the moment.

The noise behind me fades. My breath catches.

That single warm touch hits harder than any speech or song.

Like he’s anchoring me to this exact second, grounding us both in the quiet truth of it all.

I feel it in my bones, in the part of me that still can’t believe someone like him loves all of me.

And just like that, the nerves are gone.

There’s only this.

Only him.

Only us.

“Hey,” he says. “You look freaking gorgeous.”

I bite my lip. “You look like you somehow made tuxedos illegal levels of hot.”

Mayor Willa claps her hands twice. “People of Silver Peak! We are gathered here to witness the joining of two beloved community members in holy matrimony?—”

“Knox Knightly!” someone yells from the back. “Don’t screw it up!”

“Thanks, Lily!” Knox calls back without missing a beat. Mason shakes his head next to her and mutters, “She’s had three sangrias.”

Willa presses on. “Now, the vows.”

Knox turns to me, breath catching. “Josie Dawson, you walked into my restaurant like a wildfire I didn’t see coming.

You’ve burned down every plan I had, and I’ve never been more grateful.

I love your laugh, your ambition, your chaos.

I promise to love you when we’re out of diapers, when the kitchen’s a mess, when the twins are screaming, when you accidentally use salt instead of sugar again… ”

“That was one time,” I mutter as the crowd chuckles.

“… and every moment after. I promise to show up. Every day. Always.”

My eyes blur. My fingers tighten in his.

I clear my throat, voice thick. “Knox Knightly, I thought my dreams were too big, too silly. But you didn’t just believe in them.

You built a kitchen and handed me the keys.

You gave me space, and love, and twins, and Tuck.

” I glance at the dog, who’s currently chewing a stick and ignoring everyone.

“I promise to love you when you burn the garlic, when the babies won’t sleep, when your back aches, when the quiet gets too loud. I promise to be your home, always.”

There are tears. Everywhere.

Gracie’s sobbing into Bea’s shawl. Maya’s fanning herself dramatically. Nova has her arm around Dee, who’s pretending not to lean into it. Jude hits a button, and soft instrumental music swells.

“By the power vested in me by a two-day online course and overwhelming community pressure,” Willa says, “I now pronounce you husband and wife. Knox, you may kiss your bride!”

He does.

And it’s not a polite, chaste kiss. It’s claiming .

Knox cups my face with both hands like I’m something rare and breakable, but kisses me like he’s been waiting years, like every second until now has been a buildup, and this is the moment that finally makes sense of all of it.

His mouth finds mine, warm and hungry, and I melt into him with a soft, startled sound that’s swallowed between us.

He tastes like champagne and adrenaline, like love so fierce it could burn down the whole damn mountain. His thumbs stroke my cheeks, grounding me, even as his lips part mine and his tongue sweeps in slowly, making my knees tremble beneath layers of tulle and lace.

Someone whoops. Someone gasps.

Someone, probably Lily, yells, “Okay, get it!” but I barely hear them.

All I feel is Knox. His mouth slanting over mine again, deeper now, like he’s imprinting this moment into both of us. His fingers slip into my hair, and mine slide up his chest, gripping the lapels of his tux like they’re the only thing keeping me upright.

The twins are squished between us in their slings, warm and oblivious. Tuck barks once, indignant at being ignored. None of it registers.

He kisses me like I’m his whole world.

And I kiss him back like I’m never letting him go.

When we finally break apart, just enough to breathe, he’s still got that look in his eyes, like I’ve completely ruined him and he couldn’t be happier about it. His forehead presses to mine, our breaths tangled, our hands still linked like we’ll unravel without them.

The crowd erupts.

Jace whoops and hollers. Mayor Willa throws flower petals she definitely brought herself. Dale yells, “About time!” over the chaos. Jude drops a beat so hard it shakes the wildflowers.

Tuck barks. One of the twins lets out a sleepy wail. And me?

I kiss my husband again, both of us laughing as Eli captures it in a perfect frame.

It’s loud. It’s messy. It’s magic.

It’s mine.

By the time we get home, my feet hurt, my cheeks ache from smiling, and my heart is still somewhere on that overlook, spinning in circles with the fairy lights.

The house smells like vanilla and baby powder. My phone bleeps with a message from Mom.

Twins are sleeping (miracle). Do NOT come get them tonight unless someone is actively on fire. You deserve one night of bliss. Love, Mom.

Knox reads it, then lifts an eyebrow. “You think we should test the ‘actively on fire’ clause?”

I kick off my shoes and groan. “At this point, even if I was on fire, I’d just lie down and let it burn.”

“Sexy.”

He says it with a smirk, but his eyes are soft when he steps behind me, hands finding my waist. “You looked like a dream today.”

“I felt like a dream. Then I tripped over Tuck’s leash and almost face planted into Bea.”

He kisses the back of my neck. “Still the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

I turn in his arms and slide mine around his shoulders. “You’re just saying that because I vowed to love you even when you burn the garlic.”

“That part made me cry.”

“You were crying!”

His hands are warm on my back. “Marrying you was the best decision I’ve ever made. And I’ve made some stupid ones.”

“Like letting Silver Peak become a clown show for a while?”

He leans in, nose brushing mine. “Like not kissing you the second you walked into my kitchen.”

My breath catches, and for one electric second, the entire world tilts on its axis.

Then I grab his shirt and pull him down to me.

The kiss hits hard, hot, and urgent, and full of everything we’ve been holding back all day. The speeches, the dancing, the toasts and cake, and camera flashes, none of it felt real until now.

Until this.

Until him.

Knox groans against my mouth like he’s been waiting hours for this exact moment, and maybe he has. Maybe we both have. Because the second his lips crash into mine, it’s chaos in the best way. Hands everywhere, mouths hungry, breath caught somewhere between laughter and something deeper, wilder.

He backs me into the wall, one hand sliding to my thigh, hitching my leg around his waist like we don’t have anything left to prove, like this is just who we are now. Married. Reckless. Stupidly in love.

The impact is gentle, but everything inside me jolts. My breath catches, not from surprise, but from relief. Like I’ve been holding something in all day, and finally get to let it out.

His hands are sure, his body solid against mine, and something in me melts. Not the soft, romantic kind of melting. The kind that’s all heat and ache and surrender, like my bones are gone and I don’t even care.