Page 35 of Entangled with a Mountain Man

But as Harper and Hazel's laughter float through my mind, a small voice in the back of my mind whispers, Are you sure about that?

8

A PUBLIC DECLARATION

EVERETT

The cool autumn air nips at my face as I step out of the truck, the girls bouncing out behind me. Their excitement is infectious, matching the vibrant energy of Silver Ridge on a Friday afternoon.

The air is crisp with the faint scent of cinnamon and freshly baked bread wafting from the open windows of Millie's Diner.

Main Street's alive with activity. Locals stroll the wooden sidewalks, their laughter mingling with the jingle of the bell above Garrison's General Store as customers come and go against the backdrop of the majestic, snow-capped mountains in the distance.

God, I love this place.

"Dad, come on!" Hazel tugs at my hand, her eyes fixed on Millie's Diner.

It's been a good week—the team's on board, and the girls have been angels at school. Hell, even I'm in a decent mood. I'm not sure what's gotten into them, but I'm not about to question it.

"Daddy, come on!" Harper tugs at my sleeve, her eyes wide with anticipation.

I let her pull me along, Harper trailing close behind. It's been a good week—hell, a great week. The team's back together. Scepter gave us a little breathing room as we get everything in order. And the girls? Not a single call from the school. It's almost too good to be true.

As we push through the diner's door, the familiar scent of grilled onions and coffee hits me. Sam Thompson looks up from behind the counter, giving me a nod.

"Evening, Everett. Girls giving you trouble?"

I shake my head, a rare smile tugging at my lips. "Not this week, Sam. Seems like they've turned over a new leaf."

"Well, if it ain't the Logan clan," Betty calls from behind the counter, her smile as warm as ever. "Your usual booth's open, sugar."

The girls are already sliding into our usual booth, chattering away. I settle in across from them, watching as Betty brings over our usual order without needing to ask.

"Cheeseburgers, fries, and milkshakes for my favorite twins," she says with a wink. "And a black coffee for their handsome daddy."

As Betty heads off, I turn my attention to the girls. They're chattering away, their voices overlapping in a way only twins can manage.

"...and then Miss Kenzie showed us how to make friendship bracelets," Hazel says, her hands flying as she talks.

Harper nods enthusiastically. "Yeah, and she said we could make some for you, Daddy!"

I raise an eyebrow. "That so?"

It's all I've heard all week—Kenzie this, Kenzie that. Part of me wonders if she's the reason for their good behavior lately. But I push the thought aside. No use in questioning a good thing.

But it’s better to enjoy the peace while it lasts.

Then Hazel launches into a detailed account of their art project.

"And then," she says, her hands flying as she speaks, "Miss Johnson said mine was the best in the class!"

Harper rolls her eyes. "She said everyone's was the best, Hazel."

I smile, taking a sip of my coffee. "That so? What'd you draw, peanut?"

Harper pipes up, her voice softer but no less enthusiastic. "It was a family portrait, Dad. Hazel drew all of us and even included?—"

She stops abruptly, sharing a look with Hazel that doesn't escape my notice. I raise an eyebrow. "Included who?"

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