Page 133 of Mountain Daddy (Mountain Men #2)

Kendra

I nod against Luther, my mouth pressed against his shoulder.

“Tell me, Baby.” His lips brush against my neck with every word.

And I shouldn’t go there.

I shouldn’t let myself pretend it’s like it was before.

But it’s Luther.

And he’s here.

And I like doing what he tells me to do.

“I hear you, Daddy.” I whisper it so quietly.

Barely more than a puff of air.

But I feel Luther harden against me.

His muscles. His body. His… It’s all hard.

One hand slides up my spine to cradle the back of my head. “That’s my good girl.” He holds me to him. “My perfect girl.”

My.

Everything isn’t just okay. Not after one night.

But I never stopped caring for Luther.

Never stopped…

I swallow.

“You have to go.” I flex my fingers against his back once, then drag my hand around to his side.

Luther pulls back enough to look down at me. “Go back to sleep, then text me when you wake up.”

I roll my lips together and nod.

The hand on the back of my head moves to the side of my neck. Then he holds me still as he leans in and presses his lips to my forehead.

My stomach clenches, and I narrow my eyes on him.

He pauses as he pulls back. “What?”

“That’s playing dirty.”

His eyes move to my forehead. Then he leans in and kisses it again, his lips lingering longer this time.

His exhale dances through my hair, then he rolls away from me and out of bed.

I watch him. His body.

Luther’s muscles bulge as he crosses the room. His abs contract as he bends to pick up his clothes.

I continue to watch as his large hands work their way through his shirt buttons.

And I feel envious that he looks so damn handsome moments after waking up.

Fully dressed, I expect him to put his ear to the door or to ask me to step out and see where my dad’s at. But he strides back across the room.

He pauses beside my dresser, reaching a hand out to run his finger across the plant he gave me.

I stay quiet. Until he steps over to my window and unlocks it.

I sit up. “What are you doing?”

“Avoiding Joe.” He removes the screen and sets it on the floor. “I’ll put that back in the next time I stay over.” He turns his head, eyes meeting mine. “Tonight.”

I swallow. Feeling like I should tell him he can’t. But knowing I want him to.

“Lock this after me, okay?”

“Okay. But…” I glance toward the door. “You can just wait in here for him to leave. So you don’t have to…climb out.” I gesture to the window.

Luther stays where he is, his tongue dragging over his teeth. “Don’t tempt me, Baby. I haven’t earned your sweetness yet.”

Heat fills my belly. “That’s not what I meant.”

It’s not what I meant.

But also…

Luther reaches for the window. “Plus, I parked in the street like a dumbass. There’s no way he wouldn’t see my truck. I’ll be smarter next time.” He slides the window up and sticks his head out, looking toward the back deck. “Don’t forget to lock this.”

Then he climbs through the opening and drops to the ground on the other side.

Luther slides the window shut from the outside, holding my gaze for an extra beat, before he steps back.

Then the loud, scratchy shouting starts.

Scrambling out of bed, I hurry to the window in time to see Buddy streaking across the lawn after Luther, screaming his furry little head off.

Luther backs away, with his finger to his lips, trying to shush the wild animal.

Buddy doesn’t shush. And the noise is so loud in the silence of the morning.

Luther turns and runs, disappearing around the side of the house just as I hear my dad shout Buddy’s name.

I shove the window open again and stick my head out just in time to see Buddy disappear into the woods.

I fight my laugh but not my smile as I turn my head toward the back deck where Dad is still standing, yelling for his grand-fox.

He spots me. “You hear that fool?”

This time I do laugh. “I think we got ourselves a guard dog.”

Dad shakes his head. “What good is chasing off bears if he gives me a heart attack while he does it?”

I snicker. “It was pretty loud.”

Dad presses his hand to his chest. “I’m just glad I’d already taken my morning bathroom break.”

“Um, ew.” I make a face. “I’m going back to bed. But maybe throw Buddy a burger for a job well done.”

He nods.

Having planted the idea in Dad’s mind, I pull my head back into the house and shut and lock the window.

If Dad gets distracted looking for a treat for Buddy, then maybe he won’t try to investigate what Buddy was really chasing.

It ain’t no bear.

I crawl back into bed and place my head on the pillow Luther used, thinking about him telling me he’d be back tonight.

I want him to come back.

I want to see him.

My poor, broken heart wants to forgive him.

And my body wants his attention.

But I know I need to be careful.

I can’t just lose myself in the comfort of him. We need to talk.