Page 77 of Twins for Three Bad Boys

“Do I?” Rex asks lightly.

Evan nods. “Yeah. Like Fern.”

Somehow, I manage to take in a breath without choking on it.

“Evan,” I say, my voice a little too high, “buddy… please don’t repeat everything everyone says.”

Evan frowns. “Why not?”

Because I can’t cope with the idea of Wayne hearing that Rex calls me darlin’. Or how much I like it. My brain is already full of Wayne and Fletcher. I’m not supposed to be the kind of girl who… collects men in this way.

But I don’t say any of that.

Instead, I crouch down and smooth Evan’s hood spikes as if it’ll fix all my problems. “Well, because… you know. Some words are grown-up words.”

I’m relieved when Evan accepts this explanation immediately. “Okay,” he says, then points along the river bank. “We have to go that way. The dinosaurs ran away.”

Rex gestures grandly. “Lead the way, captain.”

Evan takes off like he’s been promoted, stick sword swinging, Bolt lumbering after him in a slow jog, obviously deeply invested in the adventure.

“So,” Rex says after a beat, “you like it here?”

I hesitate, because the truth is complicated.

I like the trees. The fog. The way the café is so warm. The way Sandra looks at me as if she’s already decided I’m worth something.

I like Evan.

But I don’t know where I fit yet. I don’t know if this town is really safe or just a prettier version of temporary.

“I think so,” I say honestly. “It’s… nice.”

Rex nods. “Nice is a good start.”

I glance at him. “You like it?”

His smile turns lopsided. “I keep comin’ back, don’t I?”

We reach a bend in the river where the water widens and the sunlight flickers on the surface like broken glass. Evan is now throwing pebbles and narrating a full dinosaur rescue operation, with Bolt as his official “guard.”

Rex stops near me, hands in his pockets again, and I stop too, because it feels natural. Like we’re standing in the right place.

He looks down at me, and the world narrows—that’s the only way I can describe it. Everything else goes soft around the edges, the river, the trees, Evan’s distant shouting, until it’s just me and Rex and this ridiculous tension humming between us as a power line.

His gaze drifts to my mouth.

My breath catches.

It happens so fast it’s probably a reflex.

My body knows something before my brain can stop it.

I should think about Wayne.

I should think about Fletcher.

I should think about literally anything except how Rex smells of clean cotton and cold air in a way I didn’t know I needed.