The Alpha's Castaway Mate: Mummy, Is He Our Daddy?
I said, laughing already.
“This should be good,” Roman muttered next to me.
Music started playing—from where, I still don’t know—and suddenly the twins were dancing like their lives depended on it. Silly, exaggerated moves. Arm flails, foot stomps, dramatic head tilts. Little Ruby was clearly giving it more flair, but Rhett had determination.
“This is hilarious,” I said, barely holding my phone steady as I filmed.
“I think Little Ruby dances more,” Helen whispered.
Rhett caught that, mid-spin. “Oh, you think so?” He switched his footwork on the spot. “Check this out!” he shouted, breaking into something that looked like breakdancing—if breakdancing had been invented by a hyper six-year-old w
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