Page 114 of Mountain Daddy (Mountain Men #2)

Luther

Bobby is watching Kendra walk away.

I reach out and bump his arm with the corner of my tray.

His gaze snaps forward, meeting mine. “Oh, hey, Rocky.” He glances back toward Kendra. “Who’s that?”

“That’s an ass beating,” I reply dryly.

Next to me, Joe laughs. “That’s my Kenny.” Then he pats me on the back. “Uncle Rocky here is a little overprotective.”

Jessie coughs through a laugh, and I nearly gag. “Please don’t call me that.”

Joe pats me again, then moves over to get his fries.

Bobby is still looking between us, seeming way too perceptive.

I bump him with my tray again.

Finally through the line, I follow the other three to the last four spots available in the center of one of the long tables.

Joe and Kendra went around to the far side, Joe choosing the seat across from Jessie. Which leaves me to sit across from Kendra.

She still has her sunglasses on, and her head is tilted down, like she’s trying to decide what to eat first.

I noticed—because I can’t stop myself from noticing everything she does—that she didn’t grab lemon wedges or the little paper cups of tartar sauce. So I grabbed extra.

I set my tray down, then take my seat.

She doesn’t look up.

I clear my throat. “You forgot these.” I pick up one of the cups of sauce and set it on her tray. Then I do the same with two lemon wedges.

“Oh yeah, can’t forget that,” Joe comments a second before he shoves fish into his mouth.

Kendra lifts her head.

I see my reflection in her lenses. But then she reaches up and takes her glasses off.

I inhale.

I hold my breath.

And her eyes meet mine for the first time in weeks.

My Kendra Doll.

She’s so perfect.

She’s… not mine anymore.

“Thank you.” Her soft words glide past me.

She doesn’t mean it.

She’s not thankful to me. For me.

I nod anyway. “You’re welcome.”

Kendra breaks eye contact, picking up the lemon wedge and squeezing it.

Then she jumps.

“Shit,” she hisses, dropping the lemon and holding the back of her hand up to her face.

“What’d you do?” Joe turns to her.

“Nothing.” She has one eye closed as she reaches for the napkin dispenser in the center of the table. “Just a bit of lemon juice in my eye.”

Joe makes a face. “There’s a restroom in the back. Need help washing it out?”

I’m already placing my hands on the table, ready to stand.

Kendra shakes her head as she pushes back her chair. “No, you guys eat.”

She doesn’t look at me, just gets up and walks away, food untouched.

My stomach twists.

The reasonable part of my brain knows that this particular incident wasn’t my fault.

But the part of my brain that hates me for letting her go is shouting at me for being such a fuckup.

I gave her that lemon.

Hand selected the wedges that looked the most perfect.

The lemon juice in her eyes is just as much my fault as the sadness blanketing her shoulders.