Page 117 of Mountain Daddy (Mountain Men #2)

Kendra

I reach for Dad’s tray, stacking it on my empty one.

“You don’t have to do that,” Dad says, even as he drops his napkin on the tray.

“It’s fine, I want to stretch my legs.” I smile over at Jessie as I reach for her tray too. They’re both on their second beer. “Want another drink while I’m up?”

She rolls her neck out as she pushes back from the table. “I should stand for a bit too. Joe, you want another?”

Dad shrugs and reclines in the uncomfortable folding chair. “Won’t say no.”

Jessie asks Luther if he wants another lemonade, and while he’s answering her, I stack his tray with the rest and stand.

The cute firefighter is still here, leaning against a wall, talking with a group of people about our age. And I consider going over there. But I’d only be doing it in an effort to make Luther jealous.

And making him jealous is childish.

It wouldn’t accomplish anything.

And it wouldn’t work.

Because he’d have to still want me.

I blow out a breath as I cut through the tables.

The music has gotten louder, and the tables are half empty now that some of the people have left and some have moved to the dance floor.

Stopping at the trash cans, I sort out the garbage, then set the trays in the provided wash bin.

Jessie is in line at the bar, and a glance across the station shows that my dad and Luther are no longer alone.

Four women.

Four women, appropriate in age, have taken up the empty seats around them.

The chairs Jessie and I were sitting in are still open, but I watch the woman next to Luther lean into him, reaching for his arm.

I look away.

Hopefully Dad will see my sunglasses and grab them before it’s time to leave. But even if I lose them, it will still be better than going back to that table.