Page 119 of Mountain Daddy (Mountain Men #2)

Kendra

A form swims into view beyond my phone.

I lift my eyes from my screen and watch as Luther lowers into the chair across from me.

I’m in the farthest corner of the farthest tent, sitting mostly in shadows, in the hopes that no one would find me.

Luther sets something on the table between us. “Didn’t want you to lose these.”

Glancing down, I see my sunglasses.

I drag them closer to me. “Thank you.”

“What are you reading?”

His question is its own reminder.

That he listened.

That I told him things.

“A book about a vampire.” I set my phone down next to my glasses.

“Does he sparkle?”

The edge of my mouth tries to pull up, knowing Ashley has to be the reason he’d ask that. But I don’t have it in me to smile. “He doesn’t. But he can smell his fated mate from across the city.”

And he would never dump her.

Not for anything.

Not fucking ever.

“You like it?”

I lift a shoulder. “So far.”

We look at each other, and it’s so uncomfortable because it’s all so wrong.

We shouldn’t be sitting across the table from each other.

We should be sitting on the same side.

We should be part of the same team.

This… distance. It doesn’t feel natural.

And the wrongness of it makes me so sad.

Luther breaks the silence. “I brought an antler for Buddy.”

My lips part. But my throat closes.

He brought something for Buddy?

My Buddy?

“What?” I can only manage a whisper.

“It’s in the bed of my truck. I found it. Thought he might like it.”

My shoulders drop.

Just… release.

I try to ask why, but no sound comes out.

And I feel so frustrated with the whole thing. With all of it. That my eyes fill with emotion.

I blink. Fast.

Luther’s features go tight, and he leans forward, putting his arms on the table. “Fuck, Ba?—”

“Don’t,” I breathe.

I’ve never been the one to command him.

But he listens.

And I press my lips together.

He brought Buddy an antler.

Because he thought he might like it.

A tear breaks free, leaving a trail of sorrow down my cheek.

Luther’s voice is low. Pained. “Do you want to talk?”

I shake my head.

And I shake my head a second time when it looks like he might ask me again. “I don’t want to talk to you. I can’t.” Another tear and then another. “Not yet.”

I discreetly brush at my cheeks with my fingertips.

“I’m sorry,” Luther whispers, and fuck, it hurts.

“Please stop,” I whisper back.

He nods.

And I lower my gaze to the table, fingertips catching more tears as they fall.

“I can drive Joe home if you want to leave.” His tone is gentle but resigned. “Or if you want me to go… Whatever you want.”

Whatever I want.

It’s never been about what I want.

That’s not how my life is.

But in this… since I have a choice. I tell him the truth. “I want to leave.”

“Okay.” He slides his arms off the table.

Holding my glasses and phone, I stand.

Luther rises across from me. “I’ll tell him you aren’t feeling well.”

A sad puff of breath escapes me.

Not feeling well.

I look up and meet his eyes.

And I remind myself that this is us now.

He’s not mine.

I’m not his.

I’m not anyone’s.

I take a step back. “Bye, Rocky.”

Then I turn and leave.